Do Not Dismiss the Pleasures of a Garden! - August 2024 Bird Report

Probably because Canada Geese in Britain are descended from introduced stock, and therefore not considered native, they are neglected by many of the birdwatching fraternity. From an artists point of view, however, they are subjects of inherent beauty, providing elegant shape and form combined with crisp and contrasting plumage tones, all of which lure the eye and draw attention. But enough eulogy. This species is common enough in the manicured countryside, but less so where salt-water dominates, such as Loch Ryan. A party of six at the Wig, on the 9th, thus provided me with a pleasant distraction. Feral Greylags are thought of in similar fashion to their black and white counterparts, just mentioned. After breeding they too congregate in flocks. There are usually a few birds to be seen in the vicinity of Loch Connell. A closely knit gaggle of 82 here, on the 18th, was typical of such post-breeding dispersal. Meanwhile, if it is Mute Swans that you seek then the sea-loch just over the hill from Connell can heartily be recommended. The numbers of swans here steadily increased as the month progressed, rising to a peak of 90 on the 29th.

Mallard are one of several species that are more common at the southern end of Loch Ryan than about the Wig, to the north. So although I may never see many here when bay watching, I am usually assured of some on the freshwater at Connell, should I ever be in need of a ‘fix’ of this species. A count at this inland site on the 11th resulted in a respectable 45 being entered into my logbook, the majority of which were males in eclipse plumage. Amongst them was a female type Shoveler, which presumably was the same bird I saw there the following week, on the 18th. Loch Connell is also a site favoured by Teal, especially during the winter months: I was content with the 11 birds present on the 18th.

Naturally enough sea-faring ducks are more at home on the saline water of Loch Ryan. I saw four Common Scoters on the 14th and five on the 28th. Eiders were of course seen daily, with a peak count of 258 on the 21st. Less abundant were Red-breasted Mergansers: a reasonable tally was 80 at the Wig, on the 20th.

Not unexpected, but nevertheless somewhat scarce on my local patch, were two Coots at Loch Connell on the 11th and 18th. The same site held a Great Crested Grebe and a Little Grebe (alias Dabchick) on the 25th. The larger of these two species of grebe I recorded frequently about the Wig, with a high of 12 birds on the 8th. Here also I logged three separate individuals of Red-throated Diver, on the 15th, 16th and 17th.

I would have expected to log at least a couple of Black-tailed Godwits this month but there were none. I did, however, record singleton Bar-tailed Godwits at the Scar on the 17th and 23rd. Numbers of Curlews at the Wig peaked at 65 on the 31st, whereas the highest count of Dunlins (11) came from the same location, on the 8th, when the first Golden Plover of the season also happened to be recorded. The highest counts of the latter species came on the 26th and 29th, with a rather poor showing of just 10 birds. A party of 12 Knot paused briefly at the Scar on the 20th. Loch Connell held 18 Lapwings on the 11th; a singleton observed in the Wig Fields on the 29th was an unusual record. Oystercatchers steadily increased in numbers about the Wig, peaking at 128 on the 31st. Numbers of Redshanks here were considerably fewer, with five being the largest flock I encountered, on the 8th. The passage of Ringed Plovers seemed to be almost constant, with a peak count of 52 being registered on the 28th. There were few juveniles amidst their ranks. Just one Ruff was logged, at the Scar on the 24th. Sightings of Sanderlings were spread across the month, with eight being the highest tally on the 12th. A wisp of five Snipes were at Loch Connell on the 11th and 18th. Back on the strand line, under the constant ebb and flow of the tide, the seaweed seemed to be ever shifting by the bulldozing activities of Turnstones forever in search of crustaceans and other tasty morsels. A flock of 24 birds was the largest I encountered, on the 31st. Many of those I saw still wore resplendent summer dress rich in orange, brown, black and white.

So far this year Black-headed Gulls have been noticeably sparse on my patch; to see plus 100 of them was thus something of a relief, on the 10th. Mediterranean Gulls are always scarce birds on my doorstep, so to record them on five days this month was a delight: an adult on the Wig Fields, on the 6th, followed by a first-winter bird on the 9th, 10th and 17th, and another adult at this same location, on the 23rd. Sandwich Terns were observed on five days, beginning with 10 (4 juveniles) at the Scar on the 1st and concluding with 14, also here, on the 31st.

Although Gannets were observed most days they were generally few in number, with 17 being the highest count on the 31st. Immature birds were noted on two occasions: a third year bird on the 19th and another of probably the same age class on the 28th. Cormorants stood in sentinel-like fashion at a few favoured locations, making assessment of their numbers relatively straightforward. 39 were present at the Scar on the 28th. The same sites were also used by Shags, with the pier at Cairnryan being particularly favoured. 31 gathered here on the 8th.

A Great White Egret was a nice find in a bay to the north of the beach at Kirkcolm (on the 8th), where ready comparison could be made with it and an accompanying Grey Heron. On the same day I saw a Little Egret energetically chasing fry in the shallows at the Scar; a few days later (the 11th) a bird was at Loch Connell, and at the end of the month one at the Wig; I like to think that it was the same bird on all three occasions, roaming in search of food, but without any distinguishing marks or features they could just as easily have been separate birds.

A Hobby seen hunting over the Wig Fields was a most pleasant discovery on the 25th. Alas, I never saw it (or another) again. Similarly, I feasted my eyes upon a Merlin that came in low over the sea, on the 20th, then proceeded purposefully over the Wig Fields and beyond, towards Connell Hill. It was my first of the season; let’s hope it will not be the last!

Now to the Hirrundines and lookalikes. Thankfully there were more House Martins to gaze upon this month than last. In the sky above Loch Connell I counted the most, 106 in all, on the 18th; I also thought that the 76 swirling birds above the Wig Fields on the 30th was a respectable gathering. It was at the aforementioned freshwater loch that accounted for my sightings of Sand Martins this month. Over 40 birds mingled with 82 of their white-rumped cousins, on the 25th, making for a confusion of martins until I had gauged the numbers of each species present. To compound the task a solitary Swift and a couple of Swallows cavorted amongst them. The latter species was also widespread elsewhere, and my highest count was of 64 sunning themselves on the roof of my house, on the 30th.

I saw a male Blackcap in my garden on the 8th and another on the 29th. Also in the garden, but on the 26th, were two Chiffchaffs. There was a Whitethroat at the Wig on the 8th and other singletons elsewhere on the 11th and 18th. Most of the Willow Warblers I observed were in my garden, with two on the 9th, one on the 10th and two on the 19th; an additional two were encountered down Fisher Lane on the 31st.

To round things up: there is typically an appreciable increase in the number of Linnets visiting the area during August. Some years there is a gradual build up, other times sudden, almost overnight. On the 8th the Wig Fields harboured 35 birds, on the 12th there were some 100, and come the 30th I counted over 250. By comparison there were few Meadow Pipits to be seen on passage: in fact, just one on the 20th and another on the 31st. Undoubtedly I missed many … perhaps a great many! Nuthatches are relatively quiet at this time of year, as perhaps suggested by my only record - a singleton, on the 11th. Robins, too, pass by in silence through the summer, though begin to make their presence known again in late August when they burst forth in song, advertising themselves and their claim to territory. Early in the month I saw barely a handful of spotty juveniles on my travels: at the month’s close (31st) I heard ten adults in full song. A lone Skylark (on the 8th) was the only one of its species that I entered into my logbook the entire month long; however, like meadow pipit, I am guessing that many went undetected. A pleasant sighting was that of a Wheatear at the Wig, also on the 8th; but I was even more surprised to see a spotty juvenile near the Scar on the 20th - surely, a bird bred locally. A further two birds were in the same vicinity on the 31st.

Leaving the best ’til last, as it is said, my garden was host to an extraordinary occurrence in the early morning of the 20th. Gazing through a house window I noticed a Great Spotted Woodpecker (an uncommon but not unexpected visitor) in the Eucalyptus tree, a Spotted Flycatcher (exceedingly rare visitor to my garden) perched in a fruit tree, and a Wryneck (a garden first!) down on the paving. Awesome! They were present momentarily, then they were gone.

Signs of Autumn are in the Offing - July 2024 Bird Report

July shares similarities with the preceding month, being a quiet time on the birding front. Usually it is towards the month’s end that hints of autumn are suggested by an increase in the number of passage species that typify this turning point in the calendar: birds such as Arctic Skua and Black-tailed Godwits being examples of such.

Greylag Geese seen during the summer are generally birds that have descended from feral stock. Family groups begin to congregate so that come the month’s end sizeable flocks may be seen. Loch Connell is a good location at which to monitor this build up: the peak count here was 153 on the 28th. Numbers of Mute Swans on Loch Ryan show a similar increase as the month progresses; the highest count logged was 42 on the 24th and 25th.

The first returning Teals were four at Loch Connell on the 7th, increasing to eight birds on the 21st. I had just one record of Common Scoters moving through the area when a flock of 24 were observed on the sea-loch on the 10th. Numbers of ‘black’ Eiders (males in full eclipse plumage appear entirely dark when seen at any distance) steadily increased, rising to a peak of 262 on the 8th; a female with three large ducklings was at the Wig on the 5th and, possibly the same birds (ducklings have grown and fledged, now sporting proper juvenile plumage) on the 23rd. Red-breasted Mergansers tended to be in small, scattered flocks, but a raft of 62 birds was on, or near, the beach at Kirkcolm on the 29th.

I saw very few Great Crested Grebes in Wig Bay during the course of the month: my highest counts being just three on the 7th and four on the 14th. As expected I saw no Little Grebes on the sea-loch but one was at Loch Connell on the 21st, and two there on the 28th. A singleton Red-throated Diver at the Wig on the 26th was my only record of this species.

The wader population visiting my local patch tends to climb towards the month’s end when non-breeding adults and failed breeders start to make their way through on passage. There was a Bar-tailed Godwit at the Scar on the 29th, a Black-tailed Godwit at Loch Connell the day before (28th) along with five Snipes. The number of Curlews in the general vicinity varied from day to day, with 25 of them being my largest count at the Wig, on the 6th. Records of Dunlin were scattered across the month, with the first (four birds) at the Scar on the 10th and the biggest flock of them (32) on the 29th. All were adults. I did not record any Redshank until the 28th, when there four at the Wig, with two the following day. Ringed Plovers are one of the commonest waders to be encountered in the local area. My efforts to see them this month were, however, shameful. Consequently I logged them on few days, and with a disappointing high of just 26 birds on the 29th. Adult Sanderlings were observed at the Scar on the 11th, 29th and 30th, with six, 10 and eight birds, respectively. My only record of Turnstone was a party of four at the Scar on the 29th.

Gulls are often perceived as being a specialised group within the birdwatching community on account of their general similarities of appearance to one another, and especially within the ranks of their immature plumages. Despite this, it is a relatively easy task to separate large (such as Herring) from small (such as Black-headed). The ‘small’ gulls have been particularly sparse on my patch all month - more so than usual. My highest count of Black-headed Gulls about the Wig was a mere 23 birds on the 6th. I saw few juveniles of this ordinarily common and abundant species.

There are usually a few pairs of Arctic Terns that breed locally but they hardly ever pass by my way. My best chance to see any is therefore to wait until the spring, or autumn, passage is underway, which occasionally brings flights of birds to Loch Ryan. This year autumn seems to have come early, with eight birds at the Scar on the 10th, six on the 11th, 12 on the 12th and two on the 13th. Sightings of Sandwich Terns were almost daily, with high counts of 40 on the 11th and 56 on the 14th and 15th; very few juveniles, however, were noted. Skuas are often associated with movements of terns: knowing this is one thing, catching a glimpse of these parasitic raiders of the sky is often another. I saw a pale morph Arctic Skua passing the Scar on the 16th, then spent a good 15 minutes watching another (also a pale morph) harassing Sandwich Terns in Wig Bay, on the 20th.

Flicking back through may notebook for the current year, I noticed a distinct lack of records for Tysties (alias Black Guillemots). Until evidence should prove otherwise I have to attribute this paucity to a number of factors operating at a local level, including weather conditions affecting visibility across Loch Ryan and issues restricting my field excursions, hence, site coverage. Throughout this July I had only four days of registrations of these small sea-faring birds. Seeing as they are such a common, but local, species I treat this as a poor sign rather than an impending omen of disaster. Gannets, on the other hand, have been regular as clockwork, although their numbers may have been slightly down on previous years’ data: 28 being my largest count, on the 25th.

Birds of prey are generally encountered ad hoc. Any observations of them are thus always useful, if only to indicate their continuing (for the regular species, that is) presence. I heard a Barn Owl calling in the late evening of the 5th and 13th; observed a Buzzard on the 8th and 28th (usually I would expect more sightings); and watched a Peregrine hunting over the Scar, on the 10th.

It has not been a great year on may patch for swallows and martins. Some days it was plain hard work just to enter one bird into the logbook. Vaguely reasonable counts of House Martins were 16 on the 23rd and 30 on the 29th. Swallows also peaked on this last date: a mere 24 birds. Somewhat surprisingly, sightings of Swifts exceeded all expectations, being registered on a mammoth six days spread across the month. Granted, the highest count of birds was only two (on the 15th) but I was well chuffed to have even them. (What does that tell you about the status of this migrant in my neck of the woods!).

July is not the best of months for registering warblers about the village of Kirkcolm. Consequently, I was more than satisfied with a single Sedge Warbler on the 7th, one Willow Warbler in the garden on the 2nd and another two on the 13th; also, a lone Whitethroat on the 2nd, 3rd, 14th and 29th (the first two were in the garden and the last at the Wig).

This leaves us with the odds and sods, as they say - perhaps better referred to as the miscellaneous. First up, Lesser Redpoll: a bird singing in my garden on three consecutive days (4th - 6th) and constituting the my first records of the summer season, no less. Secondly, a Robin on the 29th was my only record on my patch during the whole of the month. Just goes to prove how elusive common birds can be … or how unobservant the recorder is! Thirdly, Spotted Flycatcher: undoubtedly more widespread and common than my records might suggest but always a delight to mine eyes whenever I espy one; in this instance, a pair accompanied by two ‘spotty’ juveniles (the adults are mostly plain), on the 13th, and a couple of birds on the 23rd. We close this month’s blog with Skylark: a lone, single, solitary, songster above the Wig Fields on the 3rd. I know there were more of them earlier in the season but quite where they have all gone I am at a loss!

Quietness Abounds - June 2024 Bird Report

June is perhaps the quietest of months in the birding calendar. It is dominated by those species that breed in habitats available to them, which, on my patch is a diverse range. That said, breeding birds tend to be less conspicuous than at other times of the year: when there are families to raise it pays for them to be as unobtrusive as possible. The consequence of all this secretiveness is that even the so-called common, everyday birds, are not recorded as often as one might hope and certainly not in the numbers that we might otherwise expect.

A meagre 32 species are recorded upon here, reflecting the quietness of the period covered.

A pair of Greylag Geese was present at Loch Connell throughout the month; they had three goslings which, naturally enough, got ever bigger as the days went by. The pair of Mute Swans here (mentioned in a previous posting) abandoned the site, having failed to breed successfully. Being a large and white species, they are hence less easy to miss than say are other smaller birds.  Loch Ryan is thus another good place to look for them, where at this time of year they form non-breeding flocks, which I am able to detect and identify from a considerable distance (eg. from my house to Bishop Burn, a span of five miles as the crow flies). The largest flock I registered was 33 birds at Leffnoll, on the 24th. 

Notable by their general absence have been Shelducks, with a high of just two birds at the Scar, on the 19th.

There were 32 male Mallards, all in eclipse plumage, at Loch Connell on the 30th, and a duck and drake Teal there on the 16th, along with a male Wigeon (probably an early passage bird). Common Scoters are scarce visitors to Loch Ryan in June so the two seen in mid-channel on the 17th and three on the 20th, were welcome entries in the logbook. Also on the sea-loch there is a tradition of a moulting flock of male Eiders: I counted 182 on the 1st, comprising in the main of ‘text book-looking’ black and white birds in winter apparel. The flock rose in size to some 250 birds on the 11th, with a noticeable change in their plumage apparent. Come the 20th I logged 334, the majority of which were now predominantly black in colouration, with flecks, patches and streaks of white present upon closer inspection. There are few female Eiders to be seen on the loch in June: one with four small ducklings was at the Wig on the 2nd and the 7th, with another tending four downy youngsters there on the 12th, and a third bird with three bite-sized offspring, on the 20th. Numbers of Red-breasted Mergansers about the Wig dropped considerably; a male seen displaying vigorously to a female Eider (with ducklings), on the 7th, was an unusual observation. Hormones, eh!

There were two adult Great Crested Grebes in breeding attire at the Wig on the 1st. Red-throated Divers are never common on the sea-loch during the summer so it was nice to log a singleton about the Wig on the 2nd, and another in mid-channel on the 20th. 

A Bar-tailed Godwit at the Scar was my only record of this species. Curlews faired better although they were few in number: my highest count being 16 at the Wig on the 19th. A lone Lapwing was at Loch Connell on the 16th, with another two there on the 30th. Oystercatchers were observed daily about the Wig, with 51 (presumably non-breeders) at the Scar being my highest count on the 10th.

As was to be expected few Common Gulls were logged, with a party of eight in a recently cut silage field being the biggest flock I saw (on the 3rd). There were however many more Herring Gulls but I counted few assemblies of them, apart from the 62 at the Scar on the 29th. Just one Arctic Tern was registered, at the Scar on the 3rd, when there was also a Common Tern present. Four of the latter species were also seen mobbing a crow at the Cairnryan Pier (on the 19th), suggesting that a breeding attempt took place here. Small numbers of Sandwich Terns were regularly noted across the month, with peak counts about the Scar of 12 on the 7th and 22nd.

Viewing conditions over the sea-loch were rarely conducive to detecting Black Guillemots at any great distance. Fortunately a bird was close enough inshore at the Wig, on the 5th and 6th, for the species not to be omitted from this month’s record sheet. Gannets, much like swans, are large birds and hence are generally obvious on or above the water and at distances great and small, though they are easy to lose sight of under conditions of shimmering haze. Adult birds are the norm’ (peak counts of 15 on the 3rd and 19th) but immatures (birds in their second calender year or older) were noted on the 9th (two: 2nd/3rd year), the 17th (one: 3rd/4th year) and one of undetermined age on the 28th. Cormorants roamed widely over Loch Ryan, with 20 being the largest congregation at the Scar, on the 19th. Grey Herons are largely solitary by nature but sometimes they will clan together at rich feeding sites. A party comprising two adults and two juveniles at Loch Connell, on the 2nd, were probably a family unit - perhaps the same birds that bred in one of the Estate woodlands this year.

 Thankfully, Barn Owls have again become regular inhabitants on my local patch, though catching glimpse of them is no simple matter compared to listening out for their raucous screeches in the night. A bird turned up in my garden on the 20th and made for a splendid sight, illumined as it was by artificial light from the house and neighbouring properties and the low glimmer of natural light that frequently pervades any tranquil summer’s evening. Great Spotted Woodpeckers have also become more obvious of late, mostly on account of there having been several wandering, and noisy, juveniles at large, familiarising themselves with their new found surroundings in search of food. One such bird visited my garden on the 14th and 20th, amusing me greatly as it clung to the heavily flower laden stems of Phormium that swayed this way and that in a strong breeze. It searched each bloom diligently, no doubt after the many invertebrates that are attracted by the plants musty scent. 

In spite of a Raven’s large size and loud ‘kronking’ calls this species can be just as elusive as many other smaller birds, but then they also roam over large territories which considerably reduces the probability of them being discovered by a casual birdwatcher; a pair of birds, on the 2nd, was my only record of this still much maligned species. Rock Pipits are generally more common during the winter months on my patch, but failed breeders and/or juveniles disperse to areas outside of their natal zone, which probably accounts for the two birds I saw at the Corsewall Burn outlet on the 19th. Perhaps because colonies of Sand Martins are thinly spread in the Rhins of Galloway the species is not often entered in my notebooks: six birds at Loch Connell, on the 9th, was largest count. 

Warblers in general give the impression of being skulking birds. Certainly, when they are not in song they can be more difficult to detect; but June, as already noted, is a very quiet month. It was thus a pleasant surprise when chance had me glance out of a window in to my garden (on the 15th) and there, no more than six feet away was a most handsome Sedge Warbler flitting and foraging amongst the foliage. These days I rarely get to see this species at such close quarters so it was a delight to relish its warm brown tones and distinctive markings that define it. If I were to see them like that everyday then I guess I would quickly become numb to their splendour (in the same way we folk barely give a second glance to the humble House Sparrow). Thank goodness therefore that such sightings are one in a million - so to speak - and that I am able to convey my enjoyment of the occasion to you, dear reader. Another visitor to the garden was a Siskin, on the 22nd. Actually, there was two of them, with one being a juvenile. There are times when I often hear this species calling - hence, I am aware of their presence in the vicinity - yet I always find it reassuring to learn that another generation of birds is present to, hopefully, continue their future.

Last, but not least, I mention Swifts. From previous postings of this blog you will be aware that this species does not commonly occur on my local patch: at best it is an irregular visitor. Four sightings of singletons over the village this month (on the 4th, 9th, 12th and 27th), though perhaps not unprecedented, was a noteworthy occurrence.

The contents of this article are courtesy of the author, S Grover

Never a Dull Moment - May 2024 Bird Report

The enchanting Pale-bellied Brent Geese that so epitomise the late-autumn and winter period at Wig Bay were, understandably, few in number this month, with the last of 10 birds having been registered on the 6th. A pair of Mute Swans were in residence at Loch Connell on the 12th, the cob bird making threatening gestures towards a solitary Whooper Swan that was also present. Meanwhile on the other side of that loch a delightful, stunning-looking, drake, Garganey had the sense to keep clear of all this posturing and basked in the morning sunshine next to a pair of Teals. At the same site but later in the month (the 26th) I saw a duck Mallard tending her seven recently hatched offspring. On the 4th the silhouette of a Shoveler caught my eye as it raced across the sky heading west.

Numbers of Common Scoters on Loch Ryan steadily declined from 84 birds (on the 3rd) to five (on the 16th). Then, curiously, a sudden fall of 228 appeared in an impressive raft offshore, on the 20th. Eiders peaked at 310 males (along with three females) at the Scar on the 30th. My only observations of Long-tailed Ducks were of two males at the Wig on the 4th, and a male in full breeding dress also there on the 17th. The same site held a drake Tufted Duck on the 5th, with two females at the more usual location of Loch Connell, later the same day. The se-loch, of course, was the expected place to encounter Red-breasted Mergansers, with a high of 88 being logged on the 3rd. After the 7th, numbers of this species fell appreciably (or became more widely dispersed!).

A relatively unusual record (for the time of year, at least) was that of five Great Crested Grebes - all in breeding plumage - at the Wig, on the 19th. Red-throated Divers were seen over much of the month, though their numbers plummeted towards its end, with a peak count of 62 birds on the 21st  reducing to just four on the 24th. A Great Northern Diver, also in breeding attire, was observed here on the 2nd, 6th and 8th. A Pacific Diver, coming out of winter plumage, was an exceptional find in the bay on the 3rd and, just as remarkable, was a White-billed Diver here on the 7th; the latter sighting was however eclipsed by the presence of a second bird on the 21st, which merits a digressional comment herewith, given the circumstances and nature of that encounter: ‘From my house I am able to view the P&O Ferry Port on the other side of Loch Ryan and consequently have been fortunate to snap numerous digital images of vessels docked at night, with all the artificial lights showing as glimmering reflections in the water. The Stena Ferry Port (now located to the north of the first mentioned terminal) is, however, obscured from my view by the presence of the tree-line on the western side of the loch, making any photo of it from my house impossible. The solution I devised was to make a three mile round-trip on foot to a vantage point that I knew had the potential for the task in hand. Thus, I ventured out and made ready as twilight faded into darkness. The stage was set. What I hadn’t anticipated was a rolling, incoming mist (nor the associated pesky midges!), or the evocative song of a White-billed Diver that accompanied it. The mist cleared but the wails of the loon (not so piercing and lower pitched than Great Northern) persisted: eerie, spine-chilling cackles, and memorable on all counts. Wow!’

Back on track … five Bar-tailed Godwits at the Scar on the 31st was my only observation of this species. Sightings of Curlews were spread across the month but with few birds noted, and two being the highest count at the Wig on the 10th. Dunlin were probably more frequently occurring than my five records might suggest, with 14 being the largest flock at the Scar on the 16th. A solitary Grey Plover was the one and only observation of this species at this same site, on the 5th. Just two Lapwings were noted, at Loch Connell on the 12th. Ringed Plovers faired considerably better in both frequency and the number of birds involved: approximately 40 were at the Scar on the 6th. The spring passage of Sanderlings on my patch can be as varied as the weather is predictable; a mixed species flock of birds was encountered at the Wig on the 22nd, including Sanderlings, but later, on the 31st, six were definite records. Just five Turnstones were logged here on the 7th, which summaries that species’ passage. Whimbrels were perhaps the species seen to be waving the flag in support of the wader fraternity this month, even though the largest flock of them was only five strong at the Wig, on the 5th.

There seemed to be an abundance of Herring Gulls about Wig Bay but the same cannot be said for any of their cousins: I noted Common Gulls on only three days, with 14 being the highest count in the adjacent fields, on the 15th, and Lesser Black-backed Gulls on but two occasions, comprising three birds on the 1st and 2nd. Arctic Terns were also scarce, with two on the 9th, one the following day, and another on the 20th. Common Terns faired no better, with three at the Scar on the 6th and two on the 14th. Thankfully, Sandwich Terns were observed most days, including a high of 48 at the Scar on the 4th and a respectable 34 on the 16th.

My only observation of Guillemots - a reflection of their uncommonness on Loch Ryan during May - involved two birds at the Wig on the 5th. Cormorants breed locally and are thus an expected species to see on any day’s birding: 28 was my largest count of them at the Scar, on the 15th. Manx Shearwaters, on the other hand, are scarce on the sea-loch in any season so it was nice to bag four of them, so to speak, on the 1st. Not surprisingly the large size and whiteness of Gannets makes them readily discernible, even to people without field glasses. It was only on days with persistent heavy rain (and poor visibility) that they evaded detection. At other times I saw them patrolling the sky above the loch with eyes fixed on the water below, scanning for a potential meal.

For some people, either through choice or circumstance, birdwatching is a solitary pursuit. Certainly, there can be many advantages in doing so alone, but there are drawbacks also. I like to believe that a shared experience is preferential in many ways, not least because another set of eyes and ears working together towards a single goal can lead to an awareness of additional species which might otherwise be missed during the concentration required, and exercised, by an individual recorder. I know, for example, that a number of species of birds of prey hold territories on my local patch but there are very few days when I actually catch a glimpse of even one of them. The consequence is that my log book remains blank for often days (and sometimes even longer) at a time in this respect. A neighbour recently brought this phenomena home to me when he happened to mention that a Sparrowhawk had become a daily visitor to his bird table; I realised that I myself had not seen this species in quite a while. I flicked through my notebook looking for records of other predatory species, such as Kestrel and Peregrine, and found them also to be lacking. An Osprey, however, was a notable entry on the 5th, as was three hooting Tawny Owls on the evening of the 21st.

A single Cuckoo on the 19th proved to be the month’s only record of this once more common summer visitor. Similarly I had just one observation of Water Rail - a juvenile on the pool at the Corsewall Burn outlet at the bottom of Fisher’s Lane, on the 30th. This species is elusive and probably more common than the general paucity of records suggests. The trio of one off records presented here is completed by a Jay heard calling in the Corsewall Estate gardens on the 15th.

With each year’s passing there seems to be an ever decreasing number of pairs of House Martins and Swallows that occupy Kirkcolm and its surrounds. This of course is related to the problems and hazards the birds face upon return to their breeding grounds as well as in their wintering quarters and along the routes they have to take in order to complete their yearly cyclic journey. These factors obviously affect all migratory species to a lesser or greater extent, but is particularly evident on my patch in the family of ‘Hirundinidae’ (swallows and martins). Please spare a thought for their plight, dear reader, whenever you next see any of these harbingers of spring. Swifts are somewhat similar-looking aerial insectivores but are not in the same family of birds as the aforementioned. They have never been a common entry in my village notebooks: a single bird over my house on the 19th, and two above the Wig Fields on the 31st were all I saw this month.

Walks through the Estate woods and grounds resulted in the usual array of warblers being heard in song, including five Blackcaps on the 16th, 12 Chiffchaffs on the 20th, but only five Willow Warblers on the 15th. A new addition to the log was a Garden Warbler, in full song, also on the 20th, representing my first confirmed record of this species on my local patch during a 15 year tenure! Numbers of singing Sedge Warblers and Whitethroats were significantly down on previous years’ totals, even though the habitats they more regularly occupy do not appear to have changed.

A preponderance of rain during the month kept many a Skylark hidden from my view. A walk on the 15th, however, passing the Wig Fields, revealed at least 10 birds a singing.

I have mentioned before in previous articles that there are numerous so-called common birds that go about their daily lives without much thought ever being given to them by we humans. Such birds are unassuming enough for them to ever warrant our attention. I like to think that that I give equal consideration to any species I happen upon but in truth I know that is not always so. Sometimes a more concerted effort on my part is required/necessary in order to address that inequality: after all, for example, whosoever of us bothers to record every sparrow we encounter? I made a conscious effort on the 20th to in some way remedy that very human deficiency when I followed a route through the Estate woods, recording 28 Blackbirds (14 singing), 20 Chaffinches (18 singing) and 16 Wrens in song. Some so-called common birds are in fact scarce, depending where you happen to be, of course. On my patch, Bullfinch, Greenfinch and Mistle Thrush fall into this category so any observations of these species are eagerly logged by myself; of the first mentioned, one was heard calling in the Estate gardens, on the 1st; of the second - a male singing in my garden, also on the 1st; and of the last mentioned - a bird seen collecting food (presumably to feed its offspring), on the 8th.

And so concludes this month’s offering. Until the next time, continue to appreciate, enjoy, and savour any moments of natural history that present themselves to you.

The contents of this article are courtesy of the author, S Grover.

Encounters of a Hybrid kind - March 2024 Bird Report

In this month’s summary report I mention two hybrids I happened upon: one in particular got me thinking about the few that are ever reported compared with the actual number of birds that are surely at large within the population as a whole; some, no doubt, are very obvious whilst many, I suspect, are more subtle in appearance to human eyes. This was just a thought of mine but one which readers might like to ponder upon themselves.

Firstly, March star birds on my patch. But before we begin, a few words of caution. When we read, or hear about, ‘highlighted species’ in birding magazines, journals, blog postings, and elsewhere, there is a tendency to assume that such references relate only to ‘rarities’. The usage of them in this blog is, however, somewhat broader, to include an emotional response, as well as the more traditional interpretation. Consequently, this month’s highlights include American Wigeon, Red- necked, Slavonian, and Great Crested x Red-necked Grebe hybrid, Long-tailed Duck, Pintail, Tufted Duck hybrid, White-billed Diver and Whooper Swan.

Pale-bellied Brent Geese were present about the Wig throughout the month. Depending on the state of the tides I saw various sized flocks most days. I realised, however, that in order to more properly gauge the wintering population I would have to time my counts to coincide with the high tide, when the largest concentration of birds feeding in the Wig fields could be seen. Approximately 130 birds were consistently recorded across the month, with a high of 150 on the 29th. It is likely that additional birds were also moving through, although occasional sightings of the same two colour-ringed birds (not always easy to pick out, or read the codes on the rings, amongst active flocks) suggest at least some stability within the population at Loch Ryan.

Pink-footed Geese moving northwards were more often heard than seen but Loch Connell is a regular stop off for them and always worth a gander. There were 850 here on the 3rd, reducing to 228 on the 24th. This same site held 10 Whooper Swans on the 10th and a one colour-ringed bird on the 24th. This apparent paucity of swans on my local patch changed a couple of days later, on the 28th, when 248 Whoopers pressed eagerly northwards, low over Loch Ryan; their glistening white shapes could be seen from afar and as they closed in, passing by the Scar, their triumphant bugling calls filled the sullen sky.

Returning Shelducks to the area were few, with a peak count of just nine at the Scar on the 13th. Gadwall are scarce visitors, thus it was a pleasure to see a male at Loch Connell on the 3rd and 31st. I like to think that it was the same individual on both occasions, its grey plumage tones helping to conceal it from me and pass undetected on my in-between visits. The same site was frequented throughout the month by a drake and duck Pintail, which, presumably, were the same couple reported upon in the previous posting of this blog. This duo of uncommon dabbling duck species was further complimented by the addition another, a drake Shoveler, also observed on the last day of the month. More common ‘dabblers’ were also noted at this freshwater loch, including highs of 63 Teal, on the 3rd, and 60 Wigeon, on the 24th, not forgetting an unexpected rarity - an American Wigeon - on this last date. Perhaps the latter species was the same, returning, male observed here last year.

Loch Ryan, not surprisingly, was the place to enjoy flotillas of sea ducks. Common Scoters peaked at 138 on the 13th, and Goldeneyes, 34, on the 19th. A raft of 32 Long-tailed Ducks at the Wig made for a splendid sight, with birds in various states of dress, including several males in full, chocolate brown summer plumage. The popular guide book image of this fellow showing the long central tail feathers held pointing towards the heavens, was occasionally expressed by some courting birds I saw but for the most part their tails were depressed and lying on the water, giving the birds a very different demeanour. Tufted Ducks are typically a freshwater species. I encountered them on all my visits to Loch Connell during the month: 14 was my biggest count, on the 18th; however (and there is always an however!), one of their clan - a female - was not a pure bred bird to my eyes but a hybrid showing characteristics of Scaup parentage. The same site supported 16 Goosanders on the 3rd, steadily reducing in number during the course of the month to six birds on the 31st. This species was also seen on Loch Ryan, with a pair off the beach at Kirkcolm on the 26th. Naturally enough it was this same body of salt-water that was frequented by parties of Red-breasted Mergansers, including the 94 registered on the 19th.

A Little Grebe was a surprise turn up at Wig Bay on the 18th. At the same location a Red-necked Grebe was present on the 26th and 29th. I was fortunate to observe Slavonian Grebes here most days, often from some distances away in the comfort of my home. Down by the shore, however, it was easier to determine that the majority of those I noticed were immaculately turned out adults in full summer dress. Against the light the birds were merely silhouettes but under better viewing conditions the rich red tones of their necks and flanks, and the golden-yellow ear tufts, became plain to see and a joy to behold. Over the hill to the west, Loch Connell had its own delights and a very different surprise in store early in the month: the likes of which I have never seen before. It was a grebe, to be sure … but what I assume was a hybrid: I’m guessing a Great Crested X Red-necked Grebe cross. I confess that the majority of hybrids I ever encounter usually resemble more of one of the species involved with a hint of, or just a few characteristics showing of the other. This particular bird (seen on the 3rd of the month) was a mishmash, split 50/50. The accompanying sketch perhaps shows better these features than could any descriptive narrative.

Sketch and details of the hybrid Grebe

Should any of the British occurring species of Divers be on the hit list of any readers then Loch Ryan is the obvious location to search on my local patch. A winter plumaged Black-throated Diver was present on the13th; a high of four Great Northerns on the 26th; a peak of 21 Red-throats on the 29th, and a magnificent White-billed Diver close to shore at the Wig on the 22nd. 

March has never been the best of months for recording waders; nonetheless, a selection can always be found about the Wig. Few Bar-tailed Godwits were logged, with a maximum of four on the 8th. Curlews were still regular entries, including a peak of 42 on the 11th. Golden Plovers faired considerably better and numerous birds were well on their way to attaining the gorgeous breeding plumage for which the species is renowned. The largest flock noted was 150 plus, at the Scar on the 2nd; another respectable sized flock was 74 at the same location on the 29th. Sightings of Lapwings were restricted to Loch Connell, with a maximum of six birds on the 3rd. Ubiquitous Oystercatchers peaked at 191 in the Wig Fields on the 15th. Redshanks - never the most abundant of waders on my patch - were observed on just four occasions: a mere three at the Wig being my highest tally. No large flocks of Ringed Plovers were encountered but there was at least 20 at the Scar on the 15th. The seemingly prolonged wet weather that persisted through the month raised the water level at Loch Connell, resulting in extensive flooding of an adjacent area of marsh. This provided favourable conditions for several species, and is undoubtedly the reason why I was able to spy five Snipes here on the 24th.

Kittiwakes are irregular visitors to Loch Ryan: there occurrence is often associated with storm systems over the Atlantic, pushing birds closer to land than might otherwise happen. It is likely that this accounted for the 22 birds passing the Scar on the 15th. During the winter period Lesser Black-backed Gulls are not especially common in the vicinity of my home, as perhaps evidenced by just a single bird observed over the Wig on thee 20th, and two at Loch Connell on the 31st.

Whereas passerines, such as Chiffchaffs, might mark the arrival of Spring in wooded areas, for me it is Sandwich Terns that herald this same change in season along the coast of Loch Ryan. I saw two on the 28th and eight the following day. Razorbills also return to local breeding grounds at this time of year so it was not unexpected to spy a party of six on the 19th and seven on the 26th. The reappearance of Gannets, too, (after a winter absence) is also a sure sign of burgeoning Spring. Two birds over the sea-loch on the 10th were the first arrivals I noticed, rising to eight on the 29th.

A spring time Sandwich Tern

A pair of Herons that roost within the estate woods became more vocal, and conspicuous, as the month progressed. They were no doubt eager to enforce the nuptial duties ahead of them. A lone Little Egret frequented the Wig on the 1st and 24th, and small gatherings of Cormorants at the Scar became a regular feature during the month, with 17 there on the 29th. A number of them were particularly striking looking, with heads predominantly white and a short black crest forming a ridge along their crowns. Presumably these birds were older with both age, and one hopes, experience in their favour.

Rooks and Jackdaws don’t always generate a lot of interest or enthusiasm amongst the birdwatching fraternity. I have to admit, however, to having been fascinated by their behaviour and antics after witnessing a garrulous bunch in my neighbours garden. I watched them desperately cling onto suspended bird feeders in order to extract a morsel or two of food. This they did in the manner of any self respecting garden Blue Tit and House Sparrow might. They may not have been quite as dextrous or expert at it as smaller birds but their ingenuity and stubbornness in the face of adversity enabled them to conquer the challenge. Those quarrelsome birds on the ground below readily took advantage of the food that rained down upon them by the hammering blows struck by the raiders above. It made me chuckle and ponder: which were the smarter birds, those suspended on the front-line offensive or those in the rear-guard, below? Both tactics paid dividends, so I guess it matters not.

I heard my first, Spring, Chiffchaffs (two birds) in song on the 19th; a Greenfinch (still quite a rarity in my neighbourhood) in song on the 6th; my first Wheatear of the year at the Wig, on the 29th; and two Linnets (having been absent for most of the winter) on the 31st.

The contents of this article are courtesy of the author, S Grover.