When I moved across the Waveney from Suffolk to Norfolk a couple of years ago I did an unusual thing for me: I started to keep a birdlist. Most birders love a good list, but for some reason that’s never been my way. But I started to list for all species of birds seen (and heard) in and around our place, and last weekend I hit 99.
This was a pair of grey wagtails passing through. I was drawn to them by the clear, sweet call, and my eye was filled by a brief moment of yellow. Grey wagtail indeed – these birds are a wondrous clear yellow below, and they don’t deserve a monochrome name. The yellow-tummed wagtail, that’d be much better.
They hung around for a few days before moving on, so there’s no arguing about the identification: leaving me ready to raise my bat in triumph when I gather in just one more bird. There have been some whoopees along the way, including a flight of five cranes and an adult male hen harrier. But I fear bird 100 will be something I should have recorded months back – a common gull, say, or a redpoll – but just overlooked. Never mind — perhaps it will be an osprey, which is probably top of the wish-list.
It’s just a bit of fun, this list, but it has a serious meaning: and that is biodiversity. Just think of it: 99 species of bird – each evolved over countless ages for its own special purposes, each unique, each one as separate from all the others as we humans are separate from blue whales and rats and orang-utans – have all found something useful, even important in our small patch of Norfolk marsh.
Simon. Fantastic you’re back available to read. Have stopped buying saturday Times as sadly you no longer feature. Great I can now read your words on wildlife, sport and the rest… again. Have been reading your stuff since you wrote Luangwa Times way back whenever that was. Look forward to reading your book early October.
Thanks very much for that. I’m doing sports stuff on the ESPN website now. Books should be available any day now.
99 already! Well done; all birders (even bad ones) tend towards list keeping…. I am up to 76 for my Norfolk garden, my really big whoopee moment, and one I had been waiting 17 years for, was last year’s 2 Red Kites. They had kept me waiting all this time then they suddenly appeared while I was gardening while gazing skywards. What’s more, they didn’t simply fly over but did some synchronised acrobatics befor gliding off to the South as if to say “we thought we’d make it a bit more special having kept you waiting so long….”
I had a visit from red kites myself last year, making it a red letter day.
We moved to a garden flat in Bristol, overlooking the Avon Gorge, a year ago (200 yards from Brunel’s great bridge). We are now up to 30 birds, which is way down on you Simon- BUT, we have seen peregrines relaxing on the garden fence, and we have had a wonderful charm of goldfinches all summer.
Incidentally, we did get to over 100 in a few days in Kenya recently. You started us on this ‘trainspotting’ type of activity, Simon, so you can be blamed- but it is harmless and it does tend to keep you on the lookout.
Incidentally, while in Lewa (Kenya), and preparing for a sundowner while watching lots of crested cranes coming in to roost, we saw something no-one can remember ever seeing previously- A leopard and a lion in the same tree. That was special. My i-phone photo did not do the encounter justice, so it did cause my wife, Liz, to go out and buy a very good camera. Somehow, I don’t think it will take such a picture, but it might get some better ones of lilac-crested rollers!
Keep up the writing Simon- the new book has been ordered!
Bob Reeves
Thanks for kind words Bob and bring on your half century! You co-existence tree is something I’ve never even heard of and deeply envy. Hope you enjoy the book.
There was nothing quite like settling down in my favourite Swansea cafe to read your Times article. Always a simple and important message in there, and always gave me food for thought. Cleaning out my cupboards recently, I found an article you wrote on Cantona many years ago ….you were at OT for a game against Coventry. You captured what he meant to the team wonderfully.
By the way, our Red Kites are paying a visit to my home in Port Talbot on a regular basis now also. It’s a joy to see one floating about on his own before heading back west.
One beef with you on a previous article on the wonderful Kestrel – there’s a buzzard on the mountain behind me who can hover as good as any Kestrel! No erratic flapping, just unparallelled use of the wind. It’s a joy to watch….the Buzzard is the master (when he fancies it).
Finally, a mate up the valley told me a Goshawk cleaned out two Sparrowhawks nests earlier this year. Was wondering if anyone had heard of anything like this?
In any hovering competition, a kestrel will shade it on superior agility. There’s no predators trade union – birds of prey can be perfectly beastly to each other. Thanks for your nice message.
Thanks for your reply. Showed my son Tom who was well impressed. Just told my partner Bev too as she was stirring the gravy…….less impressed.
A real treat Friday morning at the Kenfig Nature Reserve when myself and another chap (with all the equipment) saw a bittern flying out of the reeds, and then swimming across to another reed bed. They winter at Kenfig but I’ve never seen one in October. Wonderful! The chap had been there since 6am, and I strolled in at midday and we saw it together. I think sometimes it’s about frequency of visits to the Hide as opposed to long shifts? (who am I kiddin?). We had a laugh and and a joke about it anyway.
Finally, Turnstones scattered all over Porthcawl pier on Friday scrounging scraps from fishermen. What a sight. I looked them up, and it seems they’ve arrived from Greenland?
I’ve had a skip in my step for two days – until United lost.
Enjoying the stuff from the new book too.
take care
The more you’re out there the luckier you get. Sounds like a great morning.
So glad that I found this blog – I’ve been reading your excellent wildlife columns in the Times for years and until I learned about your departure from the paper today, I wondered what had happened to you!
Your bird watching books have taught me so much as well; ‘Birdwatching With Your Eyes Closed’ was a revelation for me as I always assumed that identifying birds by their song alone was something I’d never be able to do. It’s pretty much single-handedly transformed my countryside walks.
Can’t tell you how pleased I am by what you say. Happy birding.
Hi,I,m reading your book.Bird watching without your eyes.Its opened up my ears on my walks in our woods,in fact it’s made me antisocial.But my dogs wonder why we are walking round in circles.But on Tuesday a butterfly flew past and landed on the bramble leaves,a huge Red Admiral in mid December
Delighted you’re enjoying the book, and even more delighted you’re enjoying the wild world a little more. I fear the recent cold snap may have done for your Red Admiral.