Christine's walking & birds blog

They seemed very bright, so could be birds of the Greenland race. But whatever they were, it was a really special find so close to home.

I walked the length of Swinley Forest to Wishmoor, but the best bag of birds was up near Caesar's Camp. The first excitement was a thunderstorm, with heavy rain that left huge puddles everywhere. The second - along the northbound track under the powerlines - was a couple of lads on mini-motorbikes being chased by a determined-looking ranger in a green truck. The truck lurched from side to side sending up great fountains of water, and the trio turned west at Caesar's Camp, cheered on by a group of boys out walking with their scoutmaster. (Not sure whose side they were on, though!)

I backtracked to the clearing south of the camp, from where a cuckoo was singing. As I approached the clearing two cuckoos came flying across it - and, naturally, my camera was in my rucksack. Next I heard a crossbill calling. A nice male landed on the top of a pine and sang for some minutes; it was a varied, twittering sort of song - and a first for me. A bird feeding near the crossbill turned out to be a female brambling. It was being half-heartedly hectored by a long-tailed tit.

High up, my first swift flew north.

We had a very windy walk from Bury Down, seeing four wheatears and our first whitethroats of the year. There were three/four lapwing chicks near Scutchamer Knob in Oxfordshire; like the young blackbird on the estate earlier this week, they have to be my earliest ever.

Four whimbrels were reported by Kevin early this morning, so I drove to Waitrose via Dorney Lake. I wasn't lucky and it was horribly windy, but little ringed plover, common sandpiper and redshank made the walk worthwhile. A buzzard drifted towards Bray.

Back at home, down the bottom, blackcap and chiffchaff were singing and a red kite was cruising over the fields. As I lowered my bins, I saw this roe deer lying in the grass.
In the garden a bee-fly sunned itself on the washing-line, flat at first and then straining out from the end of the spoke as if on tiptoe. Strange little critter. Looking down, it probably thought the same about me.

One-thirty. A singing firecrest is on the estate. Fingers crossed!

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A spring (hairy-footed) flower bee was buzzing around the garden. Despite her portly shape she's quite glamorous, being a bit of a zoomer and all black - rather like a summer-plumaged spotted redshank.

Monday 14th April

Still cold! Just over the stile in Egypt Woods, late afternoon:- a singing chiffchaff, low enough for superb views, two treecreepers (at least one of which was singing) looking very bright and beautiful, and half a dozen siskins feeding high in the birches.

I walked up to the LSWP junction in a light shower of rain, seeing buzzard and kite on the way. A great spotted woodpecker was drumming and a green woodpecker switchbacked through the trees yaffling hysterically. When I got back to the car park, I was surprised to find mine the only car there. Everyone else was probably up on the common in the sun, with a million dogs barking - I'd had the bird-filled woods to myself.

Just as we finished lunch a singing firecrest passed through the garden at the speed of light, from one holly to the other and from there, presumably, across the road.

We seem to be on a sort of firecrest flyway; and the birds might well nest (if they are nesting this year) deep in the grounds of one of the swanky houses. Huh!

Thanks to an overturned lorry just before junction 13 of the M4, we spent three and a half hours crawling along/at a standstill on the motorway, and didn't reach Bury Down car park until 3pm.

As I was lacing up my boots, I noticed two lapwings out over the field mobbing something which I thought was a very large immature gull, belatedly got the bins on it and yelled out "It's an osprey!" Tantalisingly, it was already "past" us - and Greger had only a brief view as it receded.

We started our walk in strong wind and sleet, but there was plenty of sunshine too. My first wheatear of the year - a male - was on Knollend Down, Oxf. The good times are coming!

Both goldcrest and firecrest were singing today. A firecrest sounds like a goldcrest in a hurry - and without the punctuation.

As I drove away late afternoon, I finally spotted the firecrest in the yew tree opposite.

Dorney Wetlands, despite looking good, had little to show. A man with three small girls rowing about among the islands probably didn't help. A calling green sandpiper flew across high to the sewage farm; and among several sand martins was my first swallow of the year.

Back at home, the firecrest was foraging in the silver birch by the car park.