Christine's walking & birds blog

Two days ago, a recording was posted on the Portland Bird Observatory website of a migrating dotterel at 11pm on 25th April. On 23rd April, I was out watching for meteors around midnight when a single, trill-like sound was uttered somewhere above me. I rushed indoors and told Greger with some excitement that I'd just heard a dotterel passing over; but on reflection, I wondered if that could be right. It seemed early in the year for one thing - and was a dotterel likely to overfly the village? This close to the sea, it seemed more likely to be a dunlin, and that's what I said on my blog.

But the date of the recording on PBO's website suggests it wasn't too early for a dotterel; and the call sounds much more like the call I heard. The dunlin's call is higher-pitched and a bit "screamier" - and often, although not always, longer. I can never be sure, but my feeling is 90/10 in favour of dotterel. When I have to hang up my walking boots and settle for a quieter life, I know what I want to do; I'll get myself set up with some equipment and try night-time recording. My imagination was caught hugely this year by the reports from down south of common scoter migrating overland at night; I would love to hear that.

Meanwhile, unlike England, we continue in lockdown. Our long walk yesterday brought very few birds, although we did see breeding palmate newts in their usual puddle.


The male (lower individual) started by folding his tail and shivering the end of it. There was some frantic movement which bubbled up the water so we couldn't see, but presumably the male was depositing his packet of sperm for the female to pass over and pick up. She then grasps the vegetation (pathetically sparse in this case!) and lays her eggs on leaf or stem.

Right across the centre of this puddle was a clear wide tyre mark from a mountain bike. I don't think I want to do this walk any more; what with seeing the tadpoles' puddle dry up, and then watching newts breeding in another puddle that's at the mercy of booted feet and mad cyclists, I'm becoming a nervous wreck. The main thing I take from all this is that amphibians are not very bright!

Today was rainy, on and off; but we got our short walk in during a dry spell. We watched a sedge warbler singing for several minutes and I got a better picture than last time.


Also on the spit/bull park were at least two singing whitethroats.


A willow warbler was near the pond.....


.....as was another sedge warbler. The edge of the pond was dark with hundreds of tadpoles. Last time we were here, the pintail appeared to be in a ménage à trois with a drake and a duck mallard, but we couldn't see him today.