Christine's walking & birds blog

This morning I heard a chiffchaff singing down the estate as I hung washing out; and a siskin flew over calling. Later I had a glimpse of a firecrest a little way down the road, a bright little sprite whirling and darting in the darkness of the conifers. Around 4.30 pm I was out the front cleaning the dustbin, and a firecrest was singing. I thought if I was occupied with something else and took no notice of him, he might come closer. He didn't.

This smallish bug was on the washing; I think it's a birch shield bug which is new for the garden.


Firecrest song was heard several times from across the road, but I didn't see the bird. Reports from Dorney on the local bird sites mention no little ringed plovers; but two were recorded at Little Marlow gravel pits.

Yesterday, someone got a bit tetchy about locations on the Berks website, commenting that Cow Down is nowhere near West Ilsley. It's well-known that there is a Cow Down near West Ilsley - but following the grid reference this observer gives, it turns out there's another Cow Down south of Compton. It's a peculiarity of the downs, this duplication of place-names - there being, for instance, more than one Warren Farm and at least a couple of Starveall Farms.

Two redshanks and a green sandpiper were also present.

Another LRP was on East Marsh, being dive-bombed by a displaying lapwing. At least, I'm pretty sure it was a separate individual, the breast band appearing slightly different. Perhaps this was a female while the flood bird was a male.


On the same island a Mandarin drake was preening in the company of mallards.

In the back garden, we both saw a small reddish-brown mammal climb up through the beauty bush and then up the wall and into the ivy. It looked a bit chunky for a mouse and I couldn't see a long tail, so I think it was a bank vole.

A tawny owl hooted once from a tangle of trees nearby, and a raven kronking somewhere to the east seemed to be answered by a more distant one to the west. Dark clouds and a clap of thunder sent me home just before the rain came down. This was to be the last time I would see one of the lesser spotted woodpeckers of Burnham Beeches and adjacent woodlands before leaving Taplow and moving to Scotland.

A goldcrest was singing nearby.

The islands of East Marsh are now showing hints of green.

A pair of Mandarin ducks was on a small pool; and there were at least two drakes in the flooded woods at the junction of Wooburn Common Road and Heathfield Road.

I stayed in most of the day doing domestic stuff, and felt too shivery to go out later. But Greger announced he would like to try and see the woodpecker again, so we drove to the woods. It was rather late really, quite dark in the woods, and very windy. We heard a lesser-spot several times but it was always distant.

Staring in the direction of the call we could see only a treecreeper sitting motionless on a silver birch trunk. A sudden flapping behind us made me start to say "Blasted pheasant!" - but it was a woodcock, winging away low through the trees. It must have been resting right by the path, close to where I saw the woodpecker yesterday.

Yesterday: After a day of chores I paid a late-afternoon visit to the woods. A lesser spotted woodpecker was heard calling ahead - and suddenly she was there, low down and right next to the path. But there were too many twigs in the way for a picture, and she flew off through the trees.

To recall more accurately how I saw the birds, the shot below is uncropped; although, like the other images, it was taken on full (x24) zoom and lightened as much as possible on the computer.


Did the woodpeckers mate? I don't know. It was difficult to follow them in the tangle of branches, and the next thing I saw was the female on her own. She'd moved closer to the path where I was standing, looking still and watchful. Had she seen a "wrong" male off her territory? Does a female hold a territory? Fascinating stuff.


Meanwhile, a stoat ran past me and disappeared down a hole a couple of yards away. It then popped up for a second look, as if it couldn't quite believe its eyes.


A raven called from somewhere to the west.

All along the reed beds and here, below the weir, a tide mark shows how deep the water was during "The Great Rains".


On Saturday, we were surprised when we drove through West Ilsley (West Berkshire) and saw damp sandbags lying everywhere, and pipes draining water from back gardens into the road. In East Ilsley, some of those pipes had been fed through windows so presumably, the water had got into the houses. The fields between the villages and on into Compton held shallow lakes along the valley bottom; and beyond Compton we had to detour to Pangbourne because the road ahead was still flooded.

The news bulletins have been so dominated by the Somerset Levels that we've missed what's been happening closer to home.

Despite the vocal bluster, shortly after this the Med gull was seen off by a coot.

I saw four bramblings - my highest count in the Beeches this winter.


There was much twittering and some wheezing from the bramblings, as well as a few bursts of song from the chaffinches. I saw no lesser-spots, but I came face-to-face with a stoat in Dorney Wood - always a thrilling encounter.