So here we are back at home for the first week after our French spring migration. We’re just about getting back into life @ home. A part of getting back into it for Carol is for her to tromp off on Wednesdays to do volunteering work with the Greensand Trust. Like a good green-minded volunteer, off she set on her bike just before 10:00 AM. I was left to cycle into town on an emergency mission, a dash for freshly roasted coffee, our supplies of which were getting dangerously low.

Just as I was arriving back chez nous, my mobile began ringing. The fact that I’d a) got it turned on, and b) got it off silent mode was very fortuitous. On her way to meet her fellow volunteers, Carol had cycled past a little brown bundle in the country lane she had chosen to use. Curiosity piqued, she spun around and retuned to find that the little brown bundle had moved onto the grass verge. The little brown bundle proved to be a little owl. It was holding one wing out as though damaged.

The ranger in charge of the day’s volunteering tasks is a keen birder, one who has recently been out to Malta monitoring the outrageous Maltese migration massacre. Carol returned again, this time with the ranger and collected the hapless little bird. Experienced eyes determined that the bird was partially fledged – it seems owls leave the nest before they can fly properly – and certainly had a broken leg, though it was able to move the wing so perhaps that had been knocked and bruised. Little Owls are known to nest along that lane and this had perhaps fallen.

Useful trick: tip a bird on its back and cup it in your hands and it’ll just lie there wondering what to do. This is how Carol got the casualty back to the group. It’s not everyone that gets to cuddle a baby Little Owl.

Mr Ranger went back to base for a cardboard box and some padding in the form of a lost property rugby shirt. He contacted Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital at Haddenham who agreed to take the owl in. Carol phoned me in search of an ambulance service. I had been intending to head out to check on dragonflies at our local nature reserve but this was much more exciting and important. I quickly set off. Checking that the box contained Little Owl that was still in the land of the living, we loaded Carol’s bike on the car, and Carol with her Owl in a box in the car.

Our precious cargo arrived safely at Tiggywinkles just before midday and posed for a farewell snap, albeit in a rubber-gloved hand, before being checked in.

Good luck little feller!

On the last day for a while advertising some morning brightness, I began by popping over again to Duck End NR near Maulden. I really should’ve taken my Wellies ‘cos overnight rain had made the Duck End grassland sodden. Since its Large Red Damsels (Pyrrhosoma nymphula) had appeared first on 8th April, I was harbouring thoughts that it might now be producing some Azure Damsels (Coenagrion puella). Not so, it seemed. In fact, at first I was having a hard time finding anything. Once again, the first two ponds produced nothing but I did eventually find the good ol’ Large Reds at the third pond. They were decidedly subdued in the lower temperatures with hardly any sun – it seemed duller over there than chez moi. With critters moving only reluctantly, it seemed to be a day for the macro lens and I did manage to get a few decent shots of some of the Large Reds.

A young couple turned up, wandered about a bit, then slung a hammock up between a couple of trees. The sun did poke out from behind the murk very occasionally and very briefly, but it really didn’t seem to be a hammock kind of day. Curious. Still, whatever floats your boat. Time to leave but I got distracted by getting up close and personal with this Green-veined White (Pieris napi) on my way out. Furry little feller and look at those eyes.

Whilst in the area, I tried Flitton Moor for the first time this year – nothing. I began heading for home but on my way back called in tolook at the Millennium Pond at Eversholt – also nothing. By now my stomach decided it was lunchtime and I completed my journey back to the brighter side of the county.

The sun continued longer than anticipated so I kicked myself up the butt and dragged Carol out to check Sandhouse Lane NR once more. I’m very glad I did. After seeing very little of anything to begin with, I disturbed it’s very first Large Red of the year and it promptly disappeared up into the top of a tree. Then a second flew up. I followed up the sunny bank and reached a count of six, eventually.

We found nothing anywhere else but at least life is returning. The guys down south are already seeing Variable Damsels (Coenagrion pulchellum), Azure Damsels (Coenagrion puella), Common Bluetails (Ischnura elegans) and Hairy Hawkers (Brachytron pratense).

My April plan was quite simple: spend week 1 up in the Lake District, perhaps walking and helping Carol chase landscapes, then return and start watching for the first Large Red Damselflies (Pyrrhosoma nymphula) to appear. Bedfordshire’s earliest in 2013, if memory serves, had been on 1st May but it has been a mild winter and hopes are high for an early start to the 2014 Odo-nutters season.

My plans were somewhat foiled on a couple of fronts. First, the weather in the Lake District was almost constantly grey and largely wet, not the kind of weather to make us want to risk getting half way up the mountains for a decent walk. Carol did a sterling job with some of her landscapes in the challenging conditions, though. [Expect a Travel page of examples in the not-too-distant future.] The second failing of my plan came when friends discovered Bedfordshire’s first damselfly of 2014 on 8th April at Duck End NR near Maulden, three days before we returned. (Why is it always Duck End NR that produces first?) A subdued scream drifted part way across our Keswick campsite.

Yesterday was my first opportunity to check my local patch, Sandhouse Lane NR, for signs of life. There were a couple of Hoverflies but little else. I checked the nearby King’s Wood also but again, to no avail. It did, however, produce a pleasantly posed Peacock (?) butterfly which seemed to care little for the fact that its binomial name was up for change. Now, what’s with the question mark where I usually put the scientific name? The good ol’ Peacock, colourful enough to rival tropical species, has been Inachis io for years. Now the blasted taxonomists appear to have seen fit to begin pushing through a binomial name change to Aglais io, thus confusing everyone – everyone, that is, except the good ol’ Peacock itself which is happy just to flit about in the sunshine, doing what comes naturally. It is still a Peacock.

My theory about Duck End NR always being first goers like this: it has four modestly sized ponds, all of which are sheltered, some of which catch any passing sun and which are quite shallow and thus they may warm up more quickly. Today I set off to Eversholt where I thought there was a pond which might exhibit similar characteristics and which does support a population of Large Red Damselflies. Nothing. I began heading for Flitton Moor but, Flitton Moor being very near Duck End, curiosity got the better of me and I diverted.

The first two pools produced no signs of life – not the kind I was looking for, anyway. I was a little surprised because the second of them gets good sun, though it was also suffering from a chill wind. I headed for the more sheltered, shallow third pond and, initially seeing nothing else, got distracted by some hoverflies. The handsome chappess on the left – it’s a female ‘cos the eyes don’t meet atop its head – rejoices in the name of Epistrophe eligans. At least, it does until the blasted taxonomists get hold of it. 🙂

Inevitably, my chasing of hoverflies was rattling a few brambles and I caught the tell-tale glint of fresh wings. I lost sight of it in the undergrowth but then disturbed it again and managed to keep track of it. Kick-off, 2014! After concentraing on it for some time, I began disturbing others resting in the grass beside the pond and watched a few maiden flights disappear off into the surrounding trees. My final tally was 14.

I returned to the previously visited two ponds but saw no others. I did, however, see this curious looking creature clinging to a stem just above the water. Leaping into Chinery’s Insects of Britain and Western Europe, I remained stumped. The general shape appeared to be similar to that of a Homopteran Bug but that didn’t ring true.  iSpot rescued me. This is actually a Water Boatman (Notonecta maculata glauca). These creatures are usually seen swimming upside down under water but at the surface; I had no idea they actually climbed out of the water. I now know that they fly to change ponds. Interesting little critters.

You can tell things are getting desperate, I’m even visiting Milton Keynes now. Actually, to be fair, in many respects MK is nowhere near as poor as some of its reputations would have you believe. If you are going to build a new, large conurbation, MK is done reasonable well and is certainly better than most of our other attempts. MK’s plethora of lakes, a.k.a. flood defences, are actually a decent home to waterfowl. There are also a number of parks and assorted green open spaces for other wildlife and people to enjoy. In the main, these come equipped with reasonable quality footpaths and the famed red way cycle paths. For a country lover such as myself, the only real problem with all these spaces is that you are still within earshot of the constant roar of traffic and it is a roar – many of the roads are unrestricted dual carriageways with the accompanying 70 mph speed limit.

Herself and I visited one such flood defence/lake yesterday so she could get some practice using her new Lee Big Stopper, a 10-stop Neutral Density filter designed to slow exposures down dramatically for the landscape/seascape brigade. Being more of a critter kinda guy, while Big Lee was being stopped I amused myself watching the birds. Of most interest was a pair of Great Crested Grebes (Poidceps cristatus) which are always a joy to see. I was hoping for a little display demonstration but, alas, no such luck – a bit late, maybe? However, I did get a demonstration of Great Crested Grebe table manners when one of the pair surfaced with a relatively huge fish – relative to the Grebe’s mouth and neck, that is. I couldn’t believe the Grebe could really tackle it. It tried tossing it back a couple of times without success. It dropped it a couple of times, too, only gamely to retrieve it and try again. All this time the poor ol’ fish’s tail was flapping.

I think the Grebe’s main course was a Rudd (Scardinius erythrophthalmus), judging by the orange-red fins and slightly protruding lower mandible. A Roach looks similar but apparently has a protruding top mandble (‘cos it’s a bottom feeder whereas the Rudd is a surface feeder, it says here). So, I’m going with Rudd; it was certainly proving to be hell to swallow. Eventually the Grebe seemed to get most of the hapless Rudd down and swam off with a satisfied look on its face.

Oh, no, wait a minute, that satisfied grin is just the fish’s tail wedging the Grebe’s beak open.

I don’t think that Grebe will need to eat again for a week.

It’s been a particularly dreary winter. I was tempted to say dreadful, even though it hasn’t been cold, and the poor folks suffering flooding from the almost endless succession of Atlantic storms would probably agree. Finally, the storms having abated, I’ve been out and about hoping that my avian friends would offer some respite to the winter tedium. Looking at my bird catalogue, I noticed a few glaring gaps of common species. It’s easy to overlook ubiquitous species and simply “forget” to press the shutter release “’cos it’s just a Mallard”. Wait a minute, I hadn’t actually got a picture of a Mallard. Actually, I hadn’t got many ducks at all, just a good old Tufted Duck (Aythya fuligula), a.k.a. Tufty.

My first trip was to Startops reservoir at Marsworth thinking that I might at least correct my Mallard oversight. Though the rains may have relented, it’s still necessary to be wary of where one tries to walk; most countryside footpaths are still quagmires and are likely to remain so for some time to come, I suspect. The reservoir was attractive because it has a reasonable path in places. I snagged my Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) record shot and there was even some sun to help. Common they may be but their colours can be stunning.

I gingerly picked my way along a muddier-than-I’d’ve-liked footpath to the adjacent Tringford reservoir. I say adjacent but there’s a road in between. Where I crossed the road a group of three birders were staring through a shared spotting scope across the reservoir. One explained to me that there was a pair of Red-crested Pochards (Netta rufina) on the far side of the water. They offered me a look through their scope, though I must confess I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I’d heard of a Pochard but not the red-crested bit. I thought I could see what they were getting at but wasn’t certain. I wandered around the edge of the reservoir to try my luck and eventually got a distant shot of the reason for their excitement. This really dos have a noticeably red head. Add another one to the catalogue.

A couple of days ago we had a sunny afternoon to contend with and made a late trip to College Lake, a BBOWT reserve just outside Tring. There was a bird hide in the sun but it was occupied and looking into the sun, not well placed for photography. We made our way round to another hide facing away from the sun. I fully expected it to be busy but was surprised to find it empty. Maybe most birders aren’t photographers? Perfect! We settled down to see who was around. There was a handsome male Teal (Anas crecca) bobbing aboutin some reasonable light. They’re small little critters with a striking green patch around the eye. As usual it was more distant than I’d have liked but just within range.

I thought I’d spotted a Common Pochard as we made our way round to the hide, though it was too distant for the camera. As we watched from the hide, I was guilty of assuming that there were several more Pochards – reddish brown heads – swimming about. Finally we realized they were different and unfamiliar, having a pale buff blaze on their foreheads. A handy notice in the hide informed us that these were Wigeon (Anas penelope).

At a greater distance, Carol spotted through her binoculars another unfamiliar looking dabbling duck – some ducks are diving ducks and some ducks are dabbling ducks – with a dark rear end, visible every time it dabbled. It also sported an almost black beak. Once again, the handy notice in the hide came to our rescue; we thought this must be a Gadwall (Anas strepera). I snagged a very distant shot of a pair for the record.

So, my duck catalogue was growing nicely but I was still missing my Common Pochard (Aythya ferina). We’d spotted some at a distance on Willen Lake in Milton Keynes a short while ago so yesterday, since I would be heading in that general direction in search of new bird food, I popped back to try my luck. At first things looked less than promising, the lake appearing almost deserted. I did walk part way around the lake, though and, amongst the common Tufties, I did see a Pochard which eventually turned round to allow some sort of record shot.

Interesting that the Common Pochard (Aythya ferina) and Red-crested Pochard (Netta rufina) are not in the same genus. Well, I thought so. 🙂

The duck catalogue has grown a little from being just a Tufty. I really must try and snag a Shelduck.