Be quick or be dead

Hola, my hard rocking amigos. I was wandering round the countryside in Granada for reasons you don't even want to begin to understand. Spain rocks! I had a migas baby. I learnt that metal-studded leather jeans not only look fantastic, but they breathe well in Mediterranean environments, AND are fully compatible with airport security systems. I did a pretty good impression of Borat in New York. I came back with about 2 Gb of music that is bloody brilliant. Everyone was crazy, in a good way. I learnt some very specialist Spanish vocabulary, including the many levels of 'me cago en...' curses. I saw some birds!

The flight down was superb, with clear views down the west coast and on to France, though it got cloudy over Spain. It was like a birding tour of some of my greatest triumphs - went over the Isle of Man and saw the Calf of Man, then to the North Wales Coasts with a clear view down the Menai Straits, Puffin Island, Red Wharf Bay, going over the Great Orme, and my dad's house, then cut over the Llŷn peninsula (seeing Bardsey, Ynys Enlli, at the tip), all the way down the coast (to Barmouth, and over Ynys Hir RSPB), with views of Dinas Head and Strumble head, Skomer, Swansea (ugh!), over Lundy (looking good, Lundy - actually scene of two of my greatest disasters, Ancient Murrelet x 2), hit the north Devon coast with a magnificent view all the way to Lands End and all the reservoirs reflecting orange in the sunset (speak to me Stithians!), over Brittany and... yes! Ouessant in the distance - a tick! Top hole!

Around Granada, I saw a lot of this:
Birds of poplar plantations outside Granada: a lot of European Serins - their songs were too fast and varied for Remembird to cope with. Chaffinches, European Robins, Great Tits and Winter Wrens - I took a lot of sonograms - with Grey Wagtails in the irrigation channels, and White Wagtails. A few Great Spotted Woodpeckers. Spotless Starlings and Black Redstarts around the farm buildings. One (yes one) Hoopoe. A few Common Chiffchaffs, wintering or maybe migrants, singing, including one that gave a note (captured on Remembird) that I've never seen before, this after the Ibe Chiffy paper has gone to bed, the puta. I saw a pair of Azure-winged Magpies. Black-billed Magpies v common. Common Chiffies were common enough around Granada too, and Blackcaps commonly singing in the parks too, among the House Sparrows and Spotless Starlings. A flock of Redwings in the treetops around the Alhambra Palace was weird but apparently normal. Which brings me to the Alhambra.

The Charles V Palace - symbol of Christian power and more importantly, home to a flock of 200+ Eurasian Crag Martins that roosted on the little dado ledges inside the colonnade-thingies.

Charles V Palace... here be big fire-breathing Crag Martins with nasty sharp vampire teeth.

The Alambra, from Granada


Granada, from the Alhambra


You don't buy that in B&Q


Arty bit



Main gate. Impressive.

Rather alarmed to notice I came home to a pile of bird work, so made a start on that today. Got the shakes from sudden pork and coffee withdrawal. Must go get my hit. Back in a mo. We all love Granada!

this blog is ours

Martin is working at his computer again. Nicole Kidman and the two annoying kids from 'The Others' are bugging him at the desk. They had originally been contracted to ghostwrite a blog entry on Thursday night, but Martin cancelled everything after the disaster with Captain Cutler. So in revenge they are running round him, throwing his papers in the air and shouting things like 'We're not dead!' and 'This blog is ours'. Martin heeds them not... he presses 'Send' and with a sigh, collapses forward onto the keyboard. He had FINISHED the Iberian Chiffchaff paper, and 14 hours before the deadline too, a record. When he wakes up he will celebrate with a family-feast bag of assorted Indian curries from ASDA (feeds six), a cup of tea and whatever cheap wine he can find lying around the house. Obviously he'll have to find it before Diane does.

Birding did happen this morning, though it might as well not have. Lovely day too - calm, mild, bright, Song Thrush singing and all that crap, except Newtonhill was stinking with the recently spread poisonous core of Mount Doom over the fields. Really felt like I was going to bump into a Black Redstart, though of course I didn't. Peregrine Falcons, a pair again, were active, and I tried to use RememBird to capture their calls but they were just a little too distant to be any good.

15 Common Eiders on the water included 7 males, all of which had largely yellow bills (mental note on subject of 'borealis' to NES Bird Report). 13 Ruddy Turnstones on the rocks. Looking out to sea, not much except more of the same, and about 25 Black-headed Gulls feeding on the water. I was joined by two gentlemen from the Sea Angling Club - I knew that cos they had their logo'd anoraks on. The first rule of Sea Angling Club... we don't talk about Sea Angling Club. I'd seen some Harbour Porpoises, and 5 Common Scoters flew north. etc.

Having just finished my Ibe Chiffy paper, where else to go but Iberia. 16th -23rd I'll be away, at the University of Granada (nice!). I tried to convince Diane it was a work trip, but spoiled the effect by being in Boots at the time buying suncream.

Tae a moose

Ah, when I was a young man, free single and even geekier than I am now, I was at liberty to explore any road to enjoyment I felt like, whenever I felt like it. With the passing of time... responsibilities, marriage and children have cut off my avenues of pleasure one by one. In fact the only thing left for me to derive fun from is to watch things rot in my compost heap. Which is what I was doing this morning. Taking out another bucket of fresh fruit and veg that the kiddies discarded in their rush to devour the turkey twizzlers and potato waffles residing underneath, I noted with satisfaction the collapsing pumpkin from last Hallowe'en, and stuck a hoe through its soggy-looking head, to watch the juices and goo oozing therefrom. Then I really got into it and started turning the compost with gay abandon, til I noticed a wee (well, big) Wood Mouse Apodemus sylvaticus, scurrying away in fear. It ran out through a hole in the bottom of the composter, and stood by the fence looking at me. Lizzie came round the corner to see why I was taking too long, and not getting her Ribena, so Lizzie and the mouse looked at each other for a bit too. At school, she's been meant to be learning that Burns poem about chasing mice across the fields with a machete (or something... I myself have never got past the word 'breastie' without my mind wandering). Anyway, as Lizzie mentioned, it was just like that... wee sleekit cowering timorous beastie... etc.... you might be about to die of starvation, but consider yourself lucky that whatever Burns was worried about doesn't bother you. MMMmmmmm breasties.

Ghostwritten 2

The scene.... Martin is sat at a 1920s art-nouveau Bakelite dining table, on a floor of bottle-green glass in a room decorated with moleskin wall hangings. He smokes a pink cigarette and drinks from a pint glass of something that looks not entirely unlike cheap red wine. He is working on his Iberian Chiffy paper, when suddenly he notices a trail of glowing footprints leading up the beach from the sea. ' Zoinks!', he says, and runs into the arms of Scooby Doo, as the seaweed-covered ghost of Captain Cutler appears at the window and demands to write the next blog entry. And here it is...

[S-c G CC] Whoaaaaaahhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Moaaaaaaaaannnnnnnn!!!!!!! Eurrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!!!! Ooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!! RRRRRrrrrrrrrrrooooooaaaaarrrr

[Cut!] Martin realises that his experiment with ghostwriting has been a terrible mistake. He formulates a plan with the help of Velma, his 'special teenage friend', to turn on a hose attached to a bottle with a bar of soap, making the seaweed-covered ghost of Captain Cutler slip and fall into his net and capture him by hoisting the net high. But when he turns on the hose, it spirals out of control landing Scooby in a boat. He runs into the dock, capturing the ghost in the process. They take off the mask and recognize the ghost as the real Captain Cutler... without the beard.

[S-c G CC] And I'd have gotten away with it too, if it wasn't for you meddling kids.

Ghostwritten 1

Written today by the talcum-covered pseudo-ghost of Squidward Tentacles:

[t-c p-g ST] Oh for goodness sake you boneheads, I've got a confession to make (Takes bath towel off head)

[SpongeBob]: You're bald?

[t-c p-g ST] No, I'm not bald, I'M ALIVE!! Now get rid of that tombstone and tell all your friends to go home. DO IT!!! Go home!!!!

... look, Martin is trying to remember how many Goldcrests he saw this year... what a bonehead... he he he. Let's listen in...

[Martin][ sat in dusty armchair, talking to himself and dribbling by the light of a single gas lamp and a fluorescent fish]... and then there was one in the gorse bushes on 20th April, and one in the dead willow, but that might have been the same one, I'll call it possibly two, and then next day there was one in the willow again, probably the same, or different, and then that one sang, so I'll put that as 'possibly breeding'.

[t-c p-g ST] heh heh. What a numbskull

[Martin] ...and then on 22nd April... there was that one in flight over St Ternan's Road, possibly the same one as by the side of the A90 and... so bored.... can't... stay.... awake... zzzzzzz.....

[BANG!]

[Martin] .... errrr.... whassat. Argh!!!! It's the seaweed-covered ghost of Captain Cutler from Scooby Doo! What have I been smoking. Oh yeh, pot!

[t-c p-g ST] Man, this is too stupid for me. I'm outa here. (Exit)

Welcome to Newtonhill, the European Village of Wind, 2008

Actually I don't mind admitting that this past few weeks, what with my problems with deadlines and work and such, that the ol' blog has become a bit tired and samey. So I've sold my soul to the Devil (well, remortgaged it, to be accurate) and have arranged a couple of ghostwriters to take over during the week. And get this, they're REAL GHOSTS. Watch this space, you'll have to put up with me until they arrive from.... the Other Side...

Very icy cold yesterday, and I watched the Common Blackbirds and Starlings eating pears and fizzy cola bottles in the back garden. Today it has all defrosted remarkably, but still very windy - so i went for a quick blow (careful!) round the patch, and up onto Cran Hill, just in case Newtonhill itself wasn't windy enough. There was a constant trickle of Eurasian Skylarks flying over, which is always a sign that things are on the cold-weather move. Also a Goldcrest calling from the gorse bushes next to the inflated Elsick Burn.

There were 2 Common Buzzards hanging in the breeze over Cran Hill, and they were joined by 2 Peregrine Falcons. One of the Peregrines started to buzz one of the err... Buzzards - a couple of close fly-pasts, causing th eBuzzard to sort of stop and raise a foot in half-hearted self defence. no contact was made, but the Buzzard undertook a tactical retreat back to its side of the railway line. Heard the Peregrine calling triumphantly.

7 Rock Pipits in the stubble field up from the White Houses were a very poor shadow of the flocks of 50+ I was getting a couple of years ago. Personally I blame global warming. The sea was high, man, and pounding the beach, such that only 1 Ruddy Turnstone was braving it. When I surfed over the slurry of dog crap that is the path to the bench at the cliff tops, things didn't get much more exciting, or indeed any more exciting. Out at seaaaaaa..... a few Northern Fulmars being blown about - I looked for blue ones without success - and a couple of Great Black-backed Gulls looking for a bite. I wandered off round Crna Hill, where a Kestrel had joined the merry raptor throng hovering in the updraught from the cliffs, and there was a small flock of 7 Yellowhammers feeding in the cowsh*te around the farm.

That's all... I have to get back to my 2007 records. Every year I get to the stage where I'm so bored I can't stay awake, and resolve not to leave it to the end of the year next year, but I always do, this year included. So... I'm so bored... can't...stay... awake....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..... [BANG!] errr.... whassat??? Argh!!!!!! It's the talc-covered pseudo-ghost of Squidward Tentacles!!! What have I been drinking?

Disappointing lack of peripheral blogging

I actually think the birds can be a bit boring on a blog. Does anyone care how many gannets I saw today?* Even me? Really what I'd like to do is to fill it up with petty libels, anecdotes, woodpecker news**, Heroes of the Birding Revolution etc. Can't manage that at the moment, hence the disappointing lack of peripherals. My Iberian Chiffchaff paper is just about published, but as the deadline looms for the submission of the revised version, I find I'm not happy with it... i.e. not happy with the quality of some of the sonograms, not happy with the order of the text, not happy with the text, not even 100% happy with all my conclusions. So I've been spending my evenings getting that sorted, rather than working on my screenplay of the secret sex life of great ornithologists living and dead.

*One actually... a bird with black secondaries. White tail though - apparently near adult. I bet one day there'll be a Cape Gannet to be found in our waters, but I wouldn'tlike to be the one claiming it. There is a rejected record of one from Bass Rock in 1831.

**There is some woodpecker news, but it would be unprofessional and disrespectful to tell you. Elvis has apparently left the building, though.

Birding burding... I was back around Newtonhill today. Nice day, not many birds. but 4 Eurasian Skylarks singing round Cran Hill, and that aforementioned Northern Gannet, suggesting spring might be back one day.

A Grey Wagtail was back on the Elsick Burn for the first time in a few weeks, and there was a flock of 40 Eurasian Curlews on the rocks, with 19 Common Eiders and 2 Mallards on the sea. Some Northern Fulmars were flying around aggressively (?), also a single Black-legged Kittiwake and the usual gulls etc.

A Mistle Thrush feeding in the field by the railway line was uncommon enough here to be worth scoping. That is so sad. Smart bird tho.

'King Eider

Blimey, the kiddies wasted no time today. As soon as they got up they were whinging for a) Breakfast and b) Playstation. Even by their standards they were persistent.

- Can I play Grand Theft Auto?
- No, Peter, you're 3!
- Can I play Grand Theft Auto?
- No
- Can I play Grand Theft Auto?
- No
- Can I play Grand Theft Auto?
- No
- Can I play Grand Theft Auto?
- No
- Can I play Grand Theft Auto later?
- Yes, OK, maybe, later.
.
.
.
[elapse, 20 seconds]
.
- Is it later now?
- Well, technically, yes, but...
- Hooray!!! [turns on Playstation]
- Whoa whoa whoaHHHH! Put that down!
- But you PROMISED [wails]...

Eventually Diane took pity on me and called through from her cosy bed that she'd listen to the whinging now, and I could get out. For a change I went up to Girdleness to look for the King Eider that has been around since last year.

No hurry, so parked in the first car park and walked along, looking at all sorts of birdy bollocks.

Look, I really was at Girdleness

Looking off from the foghorn, there was a smallish flock of about 25 Common Eiders among the breakers, but of course it wasn't with them. After a couple of minutes scanning, I picked the first winter drake King Eider about 800 m out with a male and female Common Eider. They did float in a bit closer during the next 30 minutes as I was watching. I considered going up to work to hoik one of the Coolpixes off a microscope, but couldn't be bothered, and took this with my phone, sorry.


As you see, the King Eider was surprisingly sh*t. Now sh*t is a word I use quite a lot, but not previously in relation to male King Eiders. Mind, I've never seen a first winter before either. A better photo is here (but even then, it's not much better, is it? :-)) Or this one (from when they were two). My first King Eider was a female, in Wales in 1991 - can you imagine the disappointment. Almost as exciting as your first Common Rosefinch, as NotBB would say. Anyway, the heavy white eye ring is obvious on this one, the smooth brown/black head, beginnings of a bill shape and some orangey pink colour. The breast a paler shade than the head, wings and flanks. Bit smaller than a Common Eider.

Of the other things on display, only a gathering of 25 Ringed Plovers on the rocks represented something I wouldn't have got in Newtonhill, although there were considerably more Common Redshanks here. And just to prove it, I went back to Newtonhil, where I saw 1 Common Redshank - considerably less than at Girdleness. There was a flock of 30 Northern Fulmars lingering offshore. I thought I was in luck that there were 2 porpoises splashing about off the rocks to the north, off Cran Hill. Bins up... and I kid you not, it was two people swimming. Yes, gently reader, swimming. I mean, not in their Speedos and nakedness, they were all wetsuited etc, but all the same, they were swimming in the North Sea in January, apparently for fun. As the turtle in Finding Nemo would say... 'Duuuuddddeessss, you have some serious thrill issues'.
AND THEN, a Bottle-nosed Dolphin swam past, as the two blokes hauled themselves out of the sea at the sewage outfall. The dolphin was naked. Duuuuddeeee!

Arty shot of a swollen burn.

I forgot to say...

When I went out birding yesterday, I walked down the road 400 m before I realised I'd forgotten my binoculars. And I only remembered when I tried to use them. The decline started here - and this is where you read it first.

The standard is dipping a little.

It was Lizzie's seventh birthday yesterday, involving a sleepover at our house and a midnight feast at 5 in the morning. AND that means she was out birding before me. Look, she started my notebook off, with her observation of a Seagull.

I know. I've TRIED to explain about Seagulls not being Seagulls. I've gone all Monty Python on her with a slide show and everything. No 1. The Kittiwake. The.... Kittiwake. But between you and me I think she thinks all this birdspotting is a bit, well, geeky. Heavens! Goddamnit to hell, she's probably right. By the time I wandered out, it was a dry dull day, which got wild in the afternoon with the wind and the rain and the screaming. I found that Lizzie was right - there were some Seagulls outside. And more on the beach. Down the track to the beach, it was deathly quiet, except for the peeping of a Small Brown Job. A strong SE onshore wind, brought a flosk of 23 Pretendy Seagulls alternately sat on the water and checking out their nest cliffs. There was a Grebey-ducky Thing in the bay, and some Peeps rummaging among the seaweed. I spent 20 minutes scoping offshore to little effect, so walked round Cran Hill, not seeing any birds but laughing in the face of the weather like an unhinged person would. Saw some Crows, and a Hawk, came home and made soup.

I wish I'd saved Boulmer Birder's deleted post. One should NEVER post stuff on the internet after drinking. :-)

No sweat.

16

Find Ultrasound technicians

Pigeons are not the only fruit

Up and away at the crack of 10:30 this morning. Of course I wouldn't have been so tired if Diane hadn't come back home drunk at 3 am and then woken me up to ask if the kids were asleep. How would I know... I thought they were with her... :-O Then we had to go find the kids - huddled in the dishwasher, again! At least they were nice and clean. And lemon scented. It's all go in our house.

Twas quite a nice day, sunny and everything. Remembirded a trio of Great Tits chasing through the bushes at St Ann's emitting an unusual range of squeaks, peeps and churrs, when a Coal Tit emerged soaking from the Elsick Burn and tried to dry off in the sunshine.

Mill Garden was quiet, but I looked over to the flock of Feral Pigeons on wires at the house on Cran Hill. They scattered as a Peregrine Falcon buzzed them fast and low, and as I was watching it hit a rather pretty white pigeon and sent its primary feathers scattering on the wind. Mmmm... thought I, because it all looked so arty an picturesque with white feathers floating and spinning in the bright sunshine against the blue shy - quite a trippy effect. The the Peregrine circled round, and cool-as-feck went through the flock again and picked out the spinning white bird with a casual flick of the leg, and carried it off. For a few seconds I watched this three-winged Peregrine flying off into the sun (one of the Pigeon's wings was still flapping like mad), until they disappeared over the brow of the hill. Of course, once that had happened, all the other Pigeons could sit down and relax on the wires, making chat.
'He killed Kenny, the b******!
[pause]
'Watching the footie later?'
'Nah. Fancy a fag?'
'OK'
[pause]
'Sh**! Kenny had the fags.'
[In unison, shaking their wings at the sky in the general direction of the peregrine]
'You b******!'

10 Ruddy Turnstones down on the beach, and the Common Redshank. Also 2 Common Eiders in the bay, the male being the only genuinely green/grey billed individual I've seen for some time. I went for a look offshore, which was a bit boring, except there was anotherTurnstone hopping around the rocks at my feet - even my 7 x 42s couldn't focus that close. There were several Common (Mew) Gulls far offshore, and a single Black-legged Kittiwake. Eventually I got 3 Long-tailed Ducks going north, a Razorbill south and a Red-throated Diver feeding close in. Otherwise I was staring out at a wide empty sea. Also an Atlantic Grey Seal, in the sea, and 2 distant Harbour Porpoises. Funny, but since New Year I was feeling a bit flat, but now I feel like I've got a porpoise in life again. Stop me now before I steal a joke from Black Adder III about the story of the Prince and the Porpoise.

Oh, what else - the long-staying (1 week) female Great Spotted Woodpecker was still on feeders at The Retreat. Am I keeping a patch year list in 2008? I dunno, but if I am, I'm glad to have that one under my belt in my treeless desert.


I thought this was an interesting effect, though failed to capture its glory... sunlight on rain and wind-flattened grass.

Emma Wray Naked

I noticed I got a lot of hits during the week.
Naturally I assumed they were all from Tom Nelson's buddies taking pity on my pathetic hit rate and dropping in to make me feel better. But it turned out they were mostly related to this thread about borealis Eiders. But some of them were related to Emma Wray, co-star of Watching (see here), in particular some pervert had done a Google search for 'Emma Wray Naked'. Shame! It's like asking for naked pictures of your favourite cousin's puppy dog.

Anyway, 2007. I've been counting up and I saw 144 species on the Newtonhill patch, which fits neatly in this 3 km x 3 km square.

I arbitrarily decided in January that i would try and see an arbitrary 140 species, so I arbitrarily beat my target. hurrah! In fact it's 145 if you assume the crossbills I saw were Common Crossbills*. Highlights were my second back garden Yellow-browed Warbler, Siberian Chiffchaff, the sea (period) including those Great Shearwaters, Little Auks, Long-tailed Skua, Sabine's Gulls, Mediterranean Gull and whatever else I've forgotten just this second. Notable absentees were such east coast migrant staples as Common Redstart, Pied Flycatcher, and still no patch Ring Ousel, which is proving a bit of a pain.

*and talking of being a bit of a pain... cop this.

Edelaar, P. 2007. Assortative mating also indicates that
common crossbill Loxia curvirostra vocal types are species.
Journal of Avian Biology (OnlineEarly Articles).
doi:10.1111/j.2008.0908-8857.04231.x

Compared to most other birds, the taxonomy of crossbills
(Loxia) is still highly unsettled. However, much progress
seems to be achievable when data on vocalisations is
included. In a recent paper, Summers et al. (2007) argued
that strong assortative mating indicated that parrot
crossbill Loxia pytyopsittacus, Scottish crossbill Loxia
scotica and common crossbill Loxia curvirostra behave as
good species when breeding in sympatry. Here I argue that
their data, when placed in the context of other studies,
also indicate that three vocally differentiated European
populations within the common crossbill are species
(following the biological species concept of Mayr (1963):
species are groups of interbreeding natural populations that
are reproductively isolated from other such groups). If this
tentative conclusion remains to be upheld, it might have
large repercussions for our understanding of the speciation
process as well as for a number of more applied issues such
as the discovery and description of biodiversity and the
conversation of mobile, cryptic species.

Bonus Birds

Another walk round the patch. Frosty day. Blatently obvious that there will be nothing to see. So I amused myself taking this photo of one of our local telegraph poles. Unlike other parts of the country, we use Common Buzzards to separate the wires. Grrr.... those wires.


Then Lo! or moreover, Blimey! A flash of iridescent blue in the sunshine and there was a Common Kingfisher flying up the Elsick Burn. And great was the Joy of the people of Israel, for it was only the third such bird in 3 years of patch watching, and indeed a useful patch year tick. I started to compose a round up of my patch year with... 'and it all ended in a splash of colour... etc etc.' largish skeins of Pink-footed Geese have been buzzing round this past couple of days, and I wonder if this is all part of a movement to the coast away from icy inland.

I flushed a Great Spotted Woodpecker from the Mill garden and it flew to the feeders at the retreat. Must be the day for brightly coloured near-passerines. Only a Goldcrest and a single male Common Chaffinch in the bushes otherwise.

Down on the beach, another mild surprise - this adult Lesser Black-backed Gull - surprisingly hit n' miss in Newtonhill even in summer, and scarce scarce scarce in winter. Surely the best gull of the day? Also a (the) Common Redshank on the beach and three Ruddy Turnstones. And a yellow-billed Common Eider in the sea.

Had a bit of a look offshore, but apart from a few more gulls (Herring, Black-headed, Great Black-backed) and a roving flock of 6 Common Eiders, I was struggling. So walked back along the south side of the burn and a flock of 6 Black-headed Gulls was flying inland. One of them caught my eye as being a bit white, so bins up and By Jingo! A second winter Mediterranean Gull. Ka-chow! A patch tick, unseasonal, and completely out of left field. As usual, pathetic but unedited on the spot field notes attached.


A rather nice addition to my patch list, but rather spoilt my Kingfisher-centric 'the year ended in colourful manner etc etc.' roundup, which just goes to show that some people are never happy.

There's only one way this midwinter wander could get any more exciting. You know it, and I know it... only one way. And it happened. As I walked past the Mill Garden again in the gathering gloom, I stumbled over this incarnation of my particular deity. A Common Shrew. God Bless us, Every One!

A Selection Box is for Life, not just for Christmas

Thursday 27th December 07

ooooh.... I'm as full as a bull's bum. Waddled out birding in the afternoon, the usual look round the patch. Ahhh, it's so sad. You know how it is. All the kids want a selection box of low quality chocolate for Christmas, cos they look all cute and appetising in the shops (and ALL their friends are getting one, of course). But they don't think it through. They don't want to clear up the mess, and they don't realise how long they live. So within a few days of Christmas, they're being discarded and drowned in the local burn. This was the scene around Newtonhill this morning.

But the good news is… there’s no need for it. There are very good Selection Box rescue centres all around the country, where they never put a healthy selection box to sleep. But mostly, remember parents… don’t just buy them on a whim. Personally I think you should have to apply for a licence before you’re allowed to own one.

A few birds as well - Mount Doom, the local dungheap, was being spread and ploughed onto the stubble up by the A90, so there were a few hundred gulls to be sifting through - nearly all Herring Gulls, but about 50 Black-headed Gulls and a few Common Gulls. On the beach, 19 Ruddy Turnstones and 1 Common Redshank, and a pair of Common Stonechats among the seaweed. Surprised to see them wintering here, but then again I was surprised to see them summering, then surprised again to see them 'possibly on passage', andnow wintering. Will I eventually accept they're just 'resident'? Find out in the next exciting adventure of Pigs... in... SPACEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

A Tangerine for Christmas

Probably the best tangerine in the World.

To fortune, a much maligned lady

I had such big plans for these holidays. I was going to start to write my book. Then I decided maybe I could read a book instead. Or perhaps I could find a really in-depth insightful documentary on TV and watch that. It's now 10.12 on Sunday night and I'll settle for just seeing what's on and watching whatever. Mmmm Still Game. Now that's funny. But I've been birding. And made a cake. Usual Sunday morning routine. Diane lying in a bit so I filled the kids with Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs, and, because it's Christmas, a big piece of cake, then fled the house before the sugar got to their brains. It's all gone a bit Baltic out there. Good actually, cos it has shook up the birds a bit and there was plenty about to be looking at. Common stuff, but stuff all the same - including Meadow Pipits and Eurasian Siskins flying overhead, which is always a good sign of things on the move. several mdium-sized flocks of Chaffinches, European Goldfinches, Eurasian Greenfinches, House Spaarows, mostly loiteruing around garden feeders up the bank from the Elsick Burn. Fantastic lookie at one of the local Common Buzzards sat on a fence post above a rabbit warren.

On the beach a Common Redshank was chased off by a juvvy Grey Heron, and on the rocks there were 3 Eurasian Oystercatchers, 5 Ruddy Turnstones and 3 Purple People Eaters. I mean Purple Sandpipers, just having a bit of a retro moment there. There was a single female Eurasian Bullfinch (patch year tick?) in the willows and other crap at the top of the cliff path.

Offshore - several Northern Fulmars in a brisk southeasterly - the first for a few weeks, a couple of Great Black-backed Gulls and a single Guillemot (Common Murre).

Scouting for Richard's Pipits, I went up to the allotments and then along the coastal fields to Muchalls (3 Roe Deer and a Song Thrush for my trouble), before traipsing back along the Muchalls path, adding nothing to my bird list but trying to avoid assorted dogs.

How come Jesus never remembers MY birthday?

Cockoo For Caca

It's cold and it's smooth and it's a hard shade of white... but mostly it's just cold cold cold. And a biting easterly today as well. Good for migrants in October but good for freezing your swonnicles in December. I went for a good poke round the patch this morning, and saw very little indeed, especially away from garden feeders. European Robins, Dunnocks, Common Blackbirds, Grey Heron, all the usual residents. A Peregrine Falcon carrying away a Black-headed Gull was the highlight over the cliffs, but there were other raptors around too, viz a Eurasian Sparrowhawk hunting over Cow Field, a Common Kestrel and Common Buzzard over Cran Hill.

1 Common Eider and a Grey Seal in the bay, and offshore a single Velvet Scoter flying north, a Common Goldeneye south, 6 Common Gulls, 2 Guillemots (CommonMurres) and 2 Northern Gannets, which are pretty scarce by now. Everything's common today. Even me. Which reminds me... What's black and sticky and runs out of the ground yelling 'knickers! knickers!'? Crude Oil. What's What's black and sticky and runs out of the ground yelling 'underwear, underwear!'? Refined Oil. What's Brown and sticky? A stick. What's brown and sticky and sits in the woods? Winnie the poo. You don't get this sort of entertainment on BirdChick.

Some other birds. A bugger it, there were no other birds I can be bothered writing about. Xmas presents to wrap and all that. Ooh, except a Redpoll (sp) that flew over - not too common. Unless it was a Common Redpoll. But it was almost certainly a Lesser.

Here's a photo of the sea and the sky, and some stones.

Offshore, there was a fishing boat being tossed around like a tossy turny thing. I tried a video holding my phone up to the scope, but it failed miserably to capture the drama of the occasion. Here... but it's not worth your while. If you go full screen you might just spot the boat.

I almost certainly ignored this article when it came out.

Have spent the afternoon doing a bit of tidying up, which includes recycling my enormous collection of fire hazards in the loft, including lots of old Birdwatch magazines. The May 2001 issue (here)


carried an essay by James Tanner called ' A Forest Alive', which I have never seen in full before. Here's some quotes, again which I've never seen in full

Winter is the best time to hunt for Ivory-bills. The birds were quite active and called frequently; their calls carried far through the leafless forest, and the same bareness made it easier to see and follow them. Every day of this season was used in hunting, trying to follow and count the birds before spring made it harder and also necessary to concentrate on nesting studies. Steady pursuit of the woodpeckers did not mean that eyes and ears were closed·to other birds and animals; instead, we were often led right among them. One December morning I started out well before daylight and walked through the dark woods to the roost tree of an Ivory-bill. Barred Owls were hooting ~ from here and there, and three of them flew from the tree-tops, hooting as they went, near the Ivory-bill's roost. By then, 6.30, there was a dim grey light in the woods. I knew there was plenty of time, so settled myself comfortably on a dry hummock. Brown Thrashers were just beginning to call. Soon White­-throated Sparrows and a Winter Wren sang, a squir­rel 'mewed' and a Carolina Wren called. At 6.45 the thrashers were very noisy, calling a hoarse, vigorous charr that welled up from the undergrowth. The sky in the east glowed rosy-pink, when suddenly and mysteriously the thrashers quietened. Three Wood Ducks flew over and then slanted down, twisting their way through the branches to land nearby in the water. Several loud plunks puzzled me, until I found that they were caused by large acorns falling into the still water. Two squirrels, one black and one grey, were creeping out along the twigs of a tall oak after the acorns, knocking many loose. When a squirrel suc­ceeded in securing an acorn, it crawled back with its gain to some comfortable limb to eat. The next bird to call was a White-breasted Nuthatch. At seven o'clock came the whining cry of a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, the early riser among the winter woodpeckers, but not really early as by then the woods were quite light. Soon after that, a Red-bellied Woodpecker called and others answered immediately. One Red-belly flew to the top of the dead stub in which the Ivory-billed Woodpecker roosted, and drummed on the top. Almost at once a female Ivory-bill slipped quietly from her roost hole and jerked her way to the top of the stub, where she rapped and called a few times. Then she flew to another tree and settled to preen herself, interrupting her toilet occasionally with a call or a sharp pound on the limb. Another Ivory-bill answered from a short distance north and then flew to join the first; it was another female, but judging from its appearance a bird of the year. The two sleek black and white birds called and pounded a few times and then flew off together to begin feeding. I followed them on this day for three quarters of an hour as they moved from one tree to another until they finally took a long flight beyond my sight and I was not able to find them again.

also

Spring was the busy season for hunting and following the Ivory-billed Woodpeckers. They are like most birds in being active and noisy in the early morning: consequently we did most of our searching then. The usual routine was to be up an hour before daylight, cook and wolf a quick breakfast, and be on the trail as soon as it was light enough to see the way.

As other have pointed out... you can only rationalise the failure of the current searches if you don't include the words 'active and noisy', 'called frequently' and 'easier to see and follow', in your dataset.

Choose Life

Martin is on holiday, getting himself a slice of the action in Bali. Your blog post today is Guest-written using text from John Hodge and is narrated by Ewan McGregor.

Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a ******* big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of ******* fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the **** you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing ******* junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, ****** up brats you spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life. But why would we want to do a thing like that? We chose not to choose life. We chose somethin' else... the intensive study of wild birds in their natural environment.

At lunchtime I went for a wander round Rosemount to get me a slice of the Bohemian Waxwing action... but all I got for my pain was a single fly-by, which didn't lend itself to intensive study. They were all down near King's apparently.

Ach, who am I kidding?? No one wants to hear about what I did. You're either looking to see if I said something coherent about IBWOs for a change or let's face it, you want another page of the ex-Miss Lawson's birding experiences as taken from her personal diary. I really am dead next time she checks what I've been writing.

We never did get a painting. Still waiting to clear my overdraft.

Lest we forget.... one I'd forgotten

In lieu of proper birding, here we go again. I was flicking through notebooks from days of yore... all the way back to 31st March 1988*. I was very young... it's the only way I can explain what you are about to see. Apparently I was on Anglesey, Newborough Forest and Malltraeth. I really have forgotten everything about the day, but my notebook lists 40 (yes, 40) species of bird that day, including whatever the hell this was. Was I trying to draw a Red-necked Grebe? A crippling summer plumaged Red (Grey) Phalarope? Some sort of unholy Canada Goose x Merganser hybrid? No gentle readers (both of you), apparently a female Red-crested Pochard!? I have absolutely no rational justification for anything on that page. But it's worth laughing at. Especially the bit about the helpful birders. If they could see me now... they'd go - 'there he is!'


*My notebook does record that it was very cold, not unusual in those days... in the time before corrupt incompetent socialist scientists invented global warming by parking their do-gooder hybrid cars with the gun control bumper stickers too close to a weather thermometer as part of some sort of anti-capitalist agenda. I think that just about covers it.

Until the glorious day, brothers and sisters... FREEDOM FOR TOOTING!

Lest we forget - Blackness 1995

Been busy. Down to Newcastle on Saturday for a meeting. The BOURC* (*views expressed in this post are the views of the individual writing it, and have not been endorsed by BOU Council and do not necessarily represent the views of any other individual or organisation) recommends...

1) East Bengal Monkfish Curry at the The Plaza, Tynemouth
2) Remembering your jumper for the walk back.

Anyway, got back last night, and didn't get out birding today. Partly cos it was wet. So I will do you a blast from the past... call me Nostradamus, but I can foresee no possible repercussions from scanning pages out of your spouse's personal diary and putting them on the web without her knowledge. So here it is from the pen of the ex-Miss Lawson. Still a very good Scottish bird... the Blackness '95 Firecrest.


And this is my take on the thing.


I've been doing a bit of reading... and I think the most nonsensical thing I read was from here.

'On the grounds of parsimony, I find some of these criticisms, including those levied by Sibley et al. (2006), to be more contorted and dubious than the original affirmative evidence. Also, some of this criticism was levied by those who, despite searching many yearsfor the woodpecker and generally recognized as experts (Jackson 2006), were not part of the Arkansas discovery team. Candidly, in these and in other instances, one cannot entirelydiscount envy, turf-guarding, or other inherent human motivations as contributing to some of the criticism. At times, I’ve been hard-pressed to imagine any definitive evidence that might ever convince some of the critics, even film, digital image, video image, fresh feathers, or a DNA tissue sample of the IBWP'

I mean, honestly. And it still doesn't cite my paper. and I'm still not bitter.

Interesting stats (maybe accurate, can't vouch for the odd one or two out)... on Tom Nelson's blog by the artist formerly known as Ivory-bill Skeptic.
November 2006. Posts, 37, on IBWOs. C omments, 450.
November 2007. Posts 247 (!!), nearly all on climate change, Comments 12.

Dog crap, golf courses and my other favourite things

I'm just back from a trip to Peterborough (Petrograd). A combined 11.5 hours on the train... got a lot of work done, saw a huge flock (100) of Stock Doves north of Newcastle and (DON'T TELL PRINCE HARRY!!!!!) a Hen Harrier (Northern Harrier) just this side of the Scotch border.

But on Sunday I was birdspotting in Newtonhill, and saw some European Robins, errr... 2 Common Blackbirds strutting (yes, strutting) and other things of similar rarity value. 1 Redpoll (sp.) flew over, calling.

There was no sign of last week's Siberian-esque Chiffchaff, but I stood by its bushes and played my Yellow-browed call at maximum volume - may have overdone the volume, cos I flushed a male Common Pheasant!! A Eurasian Sparrowhawk was on the prowl, flying fast over from Cran Hill ans smashing into the pine trees at the corner of Newton Road, bugging the starlings. About 20 minutes later it turned up again at the clifftops, this time bugging a flock of 12 Rock Pipits.

On the way to the cliff tops, I watched a pair of Common Stonechats up the cliffs. A single male Common Eider was in the bay... basal half of the bill was lemony yellow, distal half 'eider green'. Argh! Has it got so boring it has come to this, racial identity of Common Eiders... *again*. And this from someone who can't be arsed travelling 5 miles up the coast to see a m/f pair of King Eiders. I'm telling you, dear reader, one of us has got their priorities wrong, and it's not necessarily you. Although if you're reading this, it might be you.

Offshore - not much. No Little Auks, but there were 2 other, notLittle Auks, going north and a couple of Guillemots (Common Murres) on the sea. 1 Red-throated Diver went north.

I got home and found the sole of my left boot covered in gritty dog crap. Thanks for that! My pet hates... #1 - dog crap (also badly trained dogs, for that matter, and frankly I'm not keen on dogs full stop, which is going to be a problem now Lizzie wants a puppy). #2 - Fat capitalists in suits who 'do deals' on environmental disaster golf courses. Which brings me to the Trump golf course plans (for anyone who's been living on Mars, or in the USA, see, for example, here). Encouraged by the local ABZ bird mailing list, I sent the following to our 68 councillors on Sunday afternoon.

Dear Councillors
Briefly I would like to applaud the Council’s brave decision to refuse further permission for the Trump golf course and hotel/housing plans. This was the right decision. While it is of course important to encourage investment and new people into Scotland, the Council’s decision sends out a strong message that we have a vision for how NE Scotland should be developed that incorporates a high priority for retaining the natural assets that make the place special. Any planning application that intends to stabilize the dune system would destroy the very characteristic that lead to its SSSI status.

As of today, I got 16 replies, of which 7 are on the lines of 'thanks, I agree', 2 are 'thanks, we'll have to wait and see'. No one has had the guts to say they disagree, but 7 replies are 'thanks, I acknowledge', which is probably the same thing.

One councillor said 'I have been appalled at the abuse my fellow councillors have had to endure, both in the press and through letters, email and phone calls. It is inevitable in any planning decision that there will be winners and losers, and as councillors we know this, and have to weigh up the evidence and make our decisions.' which sounds sensible to me. Of course it is all irrelevant at this level. As sure as eggs is eggs, our SNP government will bend over backwards to p*ss on our environmental legacy and find a way to bypass the refusal. We can try an conserve things for 5, 10, 15 years, but ultimately it's all screwed.

While I'm on the subject of people p*****g on their legacy. I know he'll take it in good spirit. :-$

I'm away til Tuesday

harriers down

The story is here.

What better way to celebrate the Siberian weather...

...than with some Siberian birds?

Within five minutes of the kids getting up this morning, one of them was back in her room until she was ready to say sorry, and the other one was on his last warning. I did what any responsible father would - left them for their Mum to sort out, wrapped up warm and went for the usual circuit of Newtonhill, thinking there would be no birds but at least I could go down the cliffs to hoover up any lingering Little Auks.

Predictably, things were very very quiet, with the only excitement being flushing a hidden Grey Heron from the banks of the Elsick Burn. In the Mill Garden there was only a Great Tit at first, but as I tracked the bushes down to the beach, I heard something calling repeatedly - a monosyllabic 'eeeeih' or something, over and over again. It reminded me a little of the Donmouth Hume's Leaf Warbler from last year (here and here), although possibly a purer note. So I was hoping it was one of them. I didn't have Hume's call on my phone (bit of an oversight that) but remembering how that Hume's had responded (weakly ;-) ) to Yellow-browed call, I gave the unseen birdy a blast of that. What appeared in the willows 3 m from my head was a chiffchaff... so suddenly it fell into place and I realised that for the first time I was hearing the 'sad' call of a candidate tristis, i.e. Siberian Chiffchaff. Ka-chow! And while it was sat there stunned by Y-bW decibel-overload I got a really good look at it, confirming there was no yellow in the face - a fully buff supercilium, white eye ring, darker lores. Generally the bird was a study in brown and buff. The upperparts were brown - not dark brown, but a mid dirty brown (not really grey or green tinges at all), and the underparts from throat to vent were dirty off-white tinged with buff especially along the flanks. There was quite a discrete greater covert bar, with the tips of the outer 4-5 coverts at least being fringed paler buffy/grey (a long way from white). A flash of yellow feather was visible at the bend of the wing, which was the only yellow visible on the bird, and I could just see dark green/olive fringes to the primary feathers. The legs were black, as was the bill. Cos it was still calling, I thought this was a good time to turn on the RememBird thingy for the first time in a few weeks. Pressed the 'on' button, but it was dead. batteries gone. No no no noo NOOOO!!! This is NOT happening. But it was... remember kids... always check the batteries before you start the game.
The chiffy flew up into the tops of the willows where it moved around actively, loosely with a Blue Tit and a Great Tit, obviously much more difficlut to see against the light, but it was tail-dipping and I got to see the chiffie structure, with medium-short primary projection. I followed it round for a while, but didn't get better views than my initial minute or so while it was working out where the 'Yellow-browed Warbler' was. However, it was calling ALL the time 'iiiih' - so much so that I wondered if there were two birds, but I only saw one, and the calls only came from one place at a time. Took as many notes as I could, before continuing on my way. Ka-chow! again! Best bird I'll find this year. Also, it was in the same bushes as the previous two Pallas's Warblers. There should be a preservation order on those bushes.

An hour at the sea then, 10:45-11:45 with a bit of a swell and a NW breeze, and hurrah!! Little Auks coming past in fits and starts. Say what you like about this autumn - even though the passerine migration has been crap (Newtonhill - 1 Yellow-browed, 1 Common Chiffchaff, and 1 Siberian Chiffchaff now), the sea has ROCKED! Not exactly overwhelmed, but 146 Little Auks north in an hour (and 7 south) would have been pretty impressive any other year. Accompanied by not much, but there were 21 'other auks' which included 1 Atlantic Puffin north, 2 Red-throated Divers north (and a juvvy fishing close inshore), 8 Common Scoters south and 3 Long-tailed Ducks north. 2 Northern Gannets north, and 35 Pink-footed Geese south.

It's a Kind of Waxwing

The bell that rings inside my mind, is challenging the doors of time...

But it can go take a fag-break. Because I was off down to the Post Office at lunchtime to post another batch of fake Soft-tab Cialis to gullible middle-aged men across Europe. As I set off down the road, a flock of 35 Bohemian Waxwings flew over, calling magically. First of the winter for me. The temperature was plummeting, and now (11.15 pm) it has plumetted, and it's SNOWING out there. No more work til April for me.

It's a miracle!

Sorry, no birding. Contractual obligations and all that. Not that life has been boring, oh no. Our washing machine decided to irrigate the undersurface of the kitchen floor. So now it's drying out... but what this? The drying marks on the floor have produced this shape... a willy... it must be the Willy of Our Lord!! A miracle. I rubbed my piles on the willy and I am cured!!! And I can walk again. I could walk before, but now I can do it with panache and... thanks to the cured piles, a swagger.

All hail Siouxsie

back in the days when somethingty something. This ruled.

Ack. And Ick. We are still a house of dysentry and assorted emetic diseases. It was Peter's turn this weekend. I squelched over our vomit-soaked carpet and out for a brief birding session in the rain. Mmmmm south easterlies too - wish it were October. As it happened, unless you count a full-on Common Blackbird shouting session in the Mill Garden , involving 5 birds, there was little passerine action. Out at sea, in very unpleasant viewing conditions, 2 Little Auks flew south (south?), and there was another one on the sea, that was nearly sunk by a surfacing Bottle-nosed Dolphin. Nothing else happening though. Now, back to that carpet...

Once more now, with feeling.

It was Diane's turn, for man-flu with bonus D+V (nice!). I stayed home to take the kids to borstal, then figured that as I was going to be late for work anyway, I might as well be good and late, and had half an hour at the seaside. 09:30 to 10:00, and a grand total of 2 Little Auks. Yes, 2. Count 'em.... there's one, *1* .... .... .... .... .... .... annnnnnnddddddddd.... .... .... .... .... .... .... .... there's another. *2*. See, told you so. Ah, has anyone ever captured the magic and excitement of seawatching so eloquently in written form? I very much doubt it. In that time 4 Razorbill went north, and 2 Razormots south (or is it Guillebills) (or Murrebillemots)? 2 Red-throated Divers south, 1 Northern Gannet north (count it.... or is the joke wearing thin?). 4 Long-tailed Ducks flew north, and 2 Eurasian Wigeon for a bit of variety. Also 25 Common Gulls. Whichever way you look at it, and I personally look at it like this


the party was over in Newtonhill today. As the actress said to the bishop, you've put me in a very difficult position.

Errr... witty title... lots of Little Auks?

I hate Manchester United. Can't help it, always have done. I'd rather have a threesome with Margaret Thatcher and John Prescott (US readers, think Ross Perot and, errr... Nancy Reagan?) than watch the team in red. But something that Sir Alex of Fergiescum once said was true. Actually two things, the irrelevant one being 'Football, Bloody Hell!', which I hope he never has occasion to say again. The other one was when ManU PLC had won the championship, maybe at the end of the nineties sometime, and the ever intrusive Sky TV cameras went into the dressing room to see them popping the champagne and whatever other indecent acts occur in there. He told his team to enjoy the occasion, cos days like this don't come round very often. That was true.

Depends where you were how many you saw, but 10000's of Little Auks along the east coast today - fantastic spectacle. These mass movements where you get the weather, predict the birds, get the birds, and then the birds fly away again. Better than any rarity. Nearly. Days like this don't come round that often. Just enjoy it when it happens - it's what you work for.

Another thing someone once said that was true, except it wasn't ()eh?#). A Gambian bird tour guide, on holiday in Britain, enjoying his birding, not very impressed with the weather, but noted that 'If you have the birds, you do not get cold.' Which is true, except he wasn't talking about seawatching from an Aberdeenshire clifftop in November.

Which brings me to an Aberdeenshire clifftop in November. I'd learnt my lesson from yesterday... no more Arthur Dent clobber for me, this time I was fully kitted out in my velvet smoking jacket, cummerband and frilly shirt ( a bit Jon Pertwee as third Doctor Who). I didn't go seawatching straight away this morning - first had a very boring look round the Mill garden and bushes near the beach, scoring nothing apart from the usual residents. A Mistle Thrush on wires above Cow Field was pretty noteworthy - they've been very scarce this year and it was probably one on the move.

So, it had been a brisk NW overnight... predicting Little Auks, unfortunately for me that is an offshore wind, so not expecting 1000s, but I was pleased to get hundreds. They came in dribs and drabs from about 09:00, with 150 in the first hour, then there was 10 minutes when it went mad and about 300 came through ahead of a freezing sleet shower (ref. error of Gambian bird guide). 577 in total in 2 hours. 67 Razorbills and Guillemots (mostly Razorbills when I could tell) and 3 Atlantic Puffins, coming through, all north. 4 Great Northern Divers (Loons) went great north, and 2 Red-throated Divers south. 36 Northern Gannets, 4 Common Scoters, 1 Velvet Scoter, 3 Common Goldeneyes and 4 Mallards, all north.

One of the local Peregrine Falcons was out and about roasting the passing Little Auks. Not 'roasting' as in 'Sunderland footie players on video'-type, but splitting them up and trying to eat them-type. Didn't seem to have any success - the Little Auks were low enough that they could splash down and be out of the way. The local Great Black-backed Gulls on the other hand are so fat they can hardly move.

Dear Santa...

Saturday morning and you have offered 101 varieties of tasty breakfast until the kids have judged which one is of sufficient quality to consider eating. They are on the settee, with Spongebob and other Saturday cartoons nipping away at their brains. You are sat there with a mug of mahogany coloured tea, and all is well in the house. You have precisely ONE hour before the E numbers, sugar and discordant flickering images send the little ones into the sort of hyperdrive that can only be controlled by machine guns. What is to be done? Of course, one goes to the SEA....

...where jeepers, it is pissing down - I should have changed out of my dressing gown and jammies. Still, sat there Arthur Dent-like, I stare at, well, not much to begin with. But I sat it out for an hour (08:00 - 09:00) and got a bit of action in the end, primarily 36 Little Auks flitting north at varying distances. They were in fact the most common auk, with only a few Razorbill/Guillemots (Common Murres) going past. Also an Atlantic Puffin sat on the sea close in (bit of a warning shot for careless Little Auk identifications - in fact I think there was only a couple of Puffins in flight).

Slow, but also 29 Northern Gannets north in the hour, 8 Red-throated Divers (and one fishing just off the rocks with a gang of Common (Mew) Gulls). Nine Long-tailed Ducks north, 7 Common Goldeneyes, and 2 Common Scoters N (1S), with 5 Eurasian Teal S. Two Harbour Porpoises and single Atlantic Grey and Common Seals were in the water, and 15 Ruddy Turnstones with 4 Purple Sandpipers on the rocks.

Comedy moment for the morning was as a Little Auk came past, pretty close in, obviously tired and shagged out after a long squawk, and looking for somewhere to land. It appeared to be about to land right between adult and 1st winter Great Black-backed Gulls on the water, which was probably the WORST place to pick, except for the gulls, who would have approved. Fortunately for the wee auk, it thought better of it and went over and landed somewhere else. Just as it sploshed down and shook itself a bit, the Grey Seal's head popped up next to him and shocked it back into flight. Rock and hard place and all that. OK, I think you had to be there.

When I got back home I chained the kids up and explained to Lizzie about Little Auks, and how they came from near the North Pole, probably next to Santa's house. But Lizzie was adamant that Santa lives not at the North Pole, but somewhere called Reindeerland. And to prove it she asked to be unchained and brought me a pre-printed envelope with Santa's address for her 2007 begging letter (I hope she knows how to spell 'tangerine' and 'coal'), where sure enough the address was 'Reindeerland'. Personally I have my doubts about whether that it the real Santa, but if he's organising the presents then frankly, who cares?

Richard III got the right idea.

I was in a bad enough mood after spending Wednesday afternoon looking after a visitor at work while a Brunnich's Guillemot frolicked off Girdleness. And my mood got even worse after being linked to this abomination from Tom's site. Talk about p*ssing on one's legacy. I had to go outside and slaughter a few Hen Harriers. Then I cheered myself up by reading this. Vive la Republique, as they say in Paris.

So now waiting for the flood of Little Auks. It's so windy here they're crashing against the windows right now. probably. Something is. Haven't done any of these for a while... here goes...

Living Color - Bi

And this one - ha! appropriate!




And this...

More on the demise of the Romanovs

Quoting freely from A People's Tragedy: The Russian Revolution 1891-1924, by Orlando Figes.

After a few minutes, Yurovsky entered the room with the execution squad - six Hungarians usually described as 'Latvians', and five Russians. Each had been assigned to shoot a particular victim, but when they entered the room it turned out that they were not facing the right person and the room was too small, with murderes and victims practically standing on each others toes. It was this that partly caused the confusion that followed. Yurovsky read out the order to shoot the Romanovs. Nicholas asked him to repeat it: his last words were: 'What? What?' The the firing began. Bullets richocheted around the room, which filled up with smoke. Given all the evidence that has come to light, it is inconceivable that any of the Romanovs survived the ordeal. The only certain survivor was the spaniel, Joy. After the murder the bodies were driven off in a lorry and dumped in a series of neraby mineshafts. Sulphuric acid was poured on their faces to hide the identity of the corpses should they be discovered.

I guess one can debate the rights and wrongs of the premeditated cold murder of an entire family until the cows come home :-$. According to Krusty the Clown, it seems like you in the US have the right to bear arms for family protection, hunting dangerous and delicious animals, and keeping the King of England out your face. To that I would add keeping the King of England's family away from your Northern Harriers. Can't help thinking that a more robust attitude to illegal hunting of harriers on Royal Estates might go some way to sorting the problem.

And btw, what a f****** surprise... here.

My blog is really boring today. You should go see the McKinney. Is this why there are more Hen Harriers in Russia?

I wandered round Newtonhill etc this morning as usual. Lots of Eurasian Siskins flying through today. Flocks of up to 20. Still trying to lure Pallas's Leaf Warblers out of the bushed, but still no luck. Occurred to me that it's been such a mild autumn... the leaves are still pretty much on the trees unlike last year.

A whopping 15 Mallards in the bay (whoop de doo), and spying through my powerful KGB binoculars.... also a single Red-throated Diver and (divers alarums!) an Atlantic Puffin on the water.

Because everyone else appears to be seeing Pomarine Skuas in the North Sea this weekend, I thought I'd go hoover a few up on a mid-morning seawatch. Perfect flat calm - good for seeing skuas going past, even if distant. But I sat there for an hour, 9.30 - 10.30 and saw not one single skua. Is that a record today? they were mostly centred further south, but plenty seen in Fife even. I can only put it down to the Newtonhill force field - a bit like that thing in the Simpsons movie, but there solely to keep Poms out of my scope distance and hence to hack me off. Hell other people were seeing this.... which is taking the piss, frankly.

I saw a very pretty Peregrine Falcon flying back and forth along the cliff tops. Offshore, some Common Goldeneyes have turned up - with a couple on the water and 7 flying north. Also 42 Northern Gannets north, 3 Red-throated Divers N (and 2 S), 1 wonderful Manx Shearwater north, and a couple of Black-legged Kittiwakes N. I was so bored I was counting auks (55 north). No definite Guillemots (Common Murres) - most of the things id'd for definite were Razorbills, but there was another, or perhaps the same, I careth not, Atlantic Puffin, and 2 Little Auks heading north.

Bored with lack of skua action, I walked back into Newtonhill (Eurasian Sparrowhawk being mobbed higher and higher by Carrion and Hooded Crows, Roe Deer being chased across the burn by a particularly aggressive dead Hedgehog) and up Cran Hill (wind). Sieved through the Yellowhammers looking for Chestnut Buntings and Rufous-collared Sparrows (if you're going to aim high, aim tame I always say) (eh?), and came across a Stock Dove (Stock Pigeon if you prefer) in the stubble, which is a good patch bird (my third?). Rock Pipits feeding in the stubble round Cran Hill too, which never fails to confuse me.