Christine's walking & birds blog

We set off on the journey south in my Fiesta, as the Volvo has grown unreliable in its old age; it would be less comfortable, but we would have peace of mind and also save on petrol.  A couple of miles south of Ullapool we hit a pothole; there was a bang, and we realised the front suspension had gone. We drove back carefully, transferred all our luggage to the Volvo - and tried again. Apart from the familiar jolts from low-gear changes and the grinding noise when turning at slow speeds (unless you turn off the traction control), the car behaved perfectly and brought us safely home.

Our journey was broken by a night at the Tebay Hotel (Cumbria), and just before we reached it (at dusk) we saw a murmuration of starlings which rose suddenly at the side of the motorway and then veered up and away across the moors. It was the first time we've ever seen one of these. A few lapwings were also seen in flight.

With such windy weather, Swinley Forest seemed a better place for a walk than the Ridgeway. The six-miler through the forest and out onto the heaths was enjoyable, and we were surprised to see the two new pools still there in the cleared area, although slightly smaller; but we saw none of the hoped-for birds. Magpies were everywhere; and a new water pipe is being laid, making the tracks and all of Lower Star Post a quagmire of mud.

After taking Greger to Maidenhead station for his day in London, I sped up to the Beeches. Feeling generous I paid the £2 parking fee even though it's voluntary on weekdays and set off only to find more surprises. A big new board informs dog walkers of their obligations, while these posts are found throughout the woods.


I felt quite emotional when I saw all this - and vindicated for the moaning I've done in the past. There have of course been good guys: an elderly man with a sweet border collie who used to come up gently to have a fuss made of her, and a woman with a large pointer which also approached quietly for a pat on the head. But the dogs you remember and rage about are the ones that bothered or even scared you - like the snapping, snarling Jack Russell that darted around my ankles while its owner said "If you're nervous of dogs you shouldn't come to a place like this", leaving me standing there open-mouthed at the woman's unbelievable stupidity and selfishness. As if Burnham Beeches was preserved and managed specially for dogs! (Well, it's sometimes seemed that way.) Then there was the smart young man in a suit, yacking on his mobile phone while his big Alsatian left a big pile of poo next to a bench I was about to sit down on. (No, the owner didn't pick up the poo, and no, I didn't sit on the bench.)

Well, now they're all being held to account, and I'm afraid the good guys have only the the bad guys to blame, and the bad guys have no-one to blame but themselves.

The following day we paid a visit to the Jubilee River, walking from the Lake End Road car park and climbing the bank to view the floods. The common pool has dried up yet again - but quite recently, I should think.


The flood in the field is also disappearing; it looked great for waders, but all we could see were shelduck, teal, moorhens, and gadwall. A kingfisher landed for a few seconds on a bare twig above the ditch before scudding off downstream. Vegetation has been cleared from the Roundmoor (including the low, water-dipping branches beloved of the Cetti's warbler) and also from the edge of the common next to the wetlands hedgerow. Tree-clearing can exacerbate flooding. I don't know why they must keep tidying everything up; the old willows also offered shelter from sun and wind to the cattle grazing here in summer and were good for spring migrants. Passing the boardwalk on the way back to the car, we heard a Cetti's warbler and a water rail.


We spent the afternoon in the Beeches - and the following day, before setting off north again, we took a last, lingering walk through Dorney Wood. We were hugely disappointed not to see a lesser spotted woodpecker. An observer recently reported seeing a male bird drumming on the permissive path. Wow, what a stroke of luck! In 17 years I've only heard the drumming twice, both times at dusk when there was no time to follow it up. However, as on the second occasion I was snapping an intently listening female sitting just above me, I s'pose I can't really complain.

We saw redwings, treecreepers, nuthatches, green woodpeckers, goldcrests, and buzzards; while a tawny owl hooted twice. Egypt Woods has undergone a great deal of clearing which gives it an airier aspect; had I known, I would have spent more time in there.

I found it hard to leave. I hadn't realised how deeply rooted I'd become in all these haunts where I've walked and birded for twenty-three years. I know we now live in a fantastic place with great birds, but I still miss home. I would gladly have swapped my ivory gull find for a sighting of the lesser spotted woodpecker. Probably my failure to see her (the female is my favourite) somehow got mixed up with other troubles and that's what made me feel so down; but as we put the miles between us and the quiet sunny woods, it was the characterful little woodpecker herself that I pined for. She's one of the best.