What birds (are you/have you been) watching? What birds have been watching you?

[Padraig]

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-northern-ireland-42097984/unusual-hummingbird-hawk-moth-defies-myths

[Richard Tarleton]

Hi Padraig, lovely creatures - a bit late in the year to be seeing them, though! We get them on the buddleia just outside the dining room window most years, though I see them elsewhere in the county. Annalong just down the coast from my former stamping ground....

[ferneyhoughgeliebte]

Hi Padraig, lovely creatures - a bit late in the year to be seeing them, though! We get them on the buddleia just outside the dining room window most years, though I see them elsewhere in the county. Annalong just down the coast from my former stamping ground....

I thought that!

I have seen one, once - in Summer of last year. I was completely spellbound by this wonderful creature that hovered around various plants in the garden - and then seemed instantly to be a couple of feet away investigating another plant. Marvellous.

[Padraig]

Yes, it was a bit late in the year: that was one we saw earlier.

Maybe they'll move up from the sunnier climes of County Down to the wild northwest in time - what with global warming! - and I'll know what to look out for. They would be hard to miss.

[Lat-Literal]

BBC2 - Birds of Paradise : The Ultimate Quest

BBC security correspondent Frank Gardner (still sadly not a "Sir") has dreamed of seeing birds of paradise since he was a young child. But that dream died in 2004 when he was shot by terrorists. A chance meeting with explorer Benedict Allen changed everything. Thirty years ago, Benedict lived in Papua New Guinea with the Niowra, a remote people. They thought he would live amongst them forever, but he abandoned them. Intent on returning, Benedict pledges to take Frank with him. Together they set out on an incredible journey, through some of the most inhospitable terrain on the planet, to make it up into the cloud forest where the birds live. Benedict is determined to get Frank there despite the wheelchair. But as they approach Benedict's old village, some brutal secrets from the past come back to haunt him. And Frank hears that in nearby hills he might get an early sighting of a bird of paradise.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08d68hq

Excellent viewing.......Part 2 is on early tomorrow morning.

[Bryn]

Not watching but listening. This morning's Tweet of the Day on Radio 4 dealt with House Martins in a way relevant to Radio 3 listeners.

At the time of posting the link, the relevant item begins 46 seconds in. The iPlayer team may edit it later to start from 0 seconds.

[Serial_Apologist]

Not watching but listening. This morning's Tweet of the Day on Radio 4 dealt with House Martins in a way relevant to Radio 3 listeners.

At the time of posting the link, the relevant item begins 46 seconds in. The iPlayer team may edit it later to start from 0 seconds.

Very interesting. Sadly the now heavily graffitoed railway station piano at Forest Hill is also now in a dilapidated, increasingly gutted state, but in any case I don't think there are many house martins in the district.

[Lat-Literal]

News of the RSPB Garden Birdwatch:

https://www.rspb.org.uk/get-involved/activities/birdwatch/

This morning when still dark I heard some birds that were loud and shrill yet musically pretty.

British, I think, with a penny whistle or pea whistle sound but almost tropical in a way.

They seemed to sense it was the weekend to make their voices known.

Couldn't see them - and not sure what they were?

[Vox Humana]

News of the RSPB Garden Birdwatch:

https://www.rspb.org.uk/get-involved/activities/birdwatch/

This morning when still dark I heard some birds that were loud and shrill yet musically pretty.

British, I think, with a penny whistle or pea whistle sound but almost tropical in a way.

They seemed to sense it was the weekend to make their voices known.

Couldn't see them - and not sure what they were?

A number of our resident birds have started to sing: So far I have heard Robin, Great Tit and Song Thrush. I expect Mistle Thrushes will also be singing. Song Thrush is always the one I notice first because it is the loudest around here (we don't get Mistle Thrushes). It's easily recognised because, as Browning noticed, it sings every phrase twice (at least).

Yesterday Mrs Humana and I went to the coast in search of ducks (both freshwater and saltwater) and seabirds. The ducks were a bit of a disappointment due to the lack of any big freeze in the Netherlands to push birds our way. There were lots of Tufted Ducks, but little else, though that else did include a Ring-necked Duck (a transatlantic stray), a pair of Goldeneye and, on the sea, a pair of Common Scoter. We had excellent views of Great Crested Grebe, Black-necked Grebe and Slavonian Grebe and very distant views of four Great Northern Divers. The Slavonian Grebe was on the sea, fishing just a few feet offshore along with a Guillemot. Away towards the horizon a few Gannets were diving. Not a bad day really.

[Lat-Literal]

A number of our resident birds have started to sing: So far I have heard Robin, Great Tit and Song Thrush. I expect Mistle Thrushes will also be singing. Song Thrush is always the one I notice first because it is the loudest around here (we don't get Mistle Thrushes). It's easily recognised because, as Browning noticed, it sings every phrase twice (at least).

Yesterday Mrs Humana and I went to the coast in search of ducks (both freshwater and saltwater) and seabirds. The ducks were a bit of a disappointment due to the lack of any big freeze in the Netherlands to push birds our way. There were lots of Tufted Ducks, but little else, though that else did include a Ring-necked Duck (a transatlantic stray), a pair of Goldeneye and, on the sea, a pair of Common Scoter. We had excellent views of Great Crested Grebe, Black-necked Grebe and Slavonian Grebe and very distant views of four Great Northern Divers. The Slavonian Grebe was on the sea, fishing just a few feet offshore along with a Guillemot. Away towards the horizon a few Gannets were diving. Not a bad day really.

That sounds fantastic. I wish I could see the sea soon. I think I heard song thrushes. They were lovely.

[Serial_Apologist]

That sounds fantastic. I wish I could see the sea soon. I think I heard song thrushes. They were lovely.

That's very early then. It used to be said that the thrush family - apart from the Redbreast, of course - normally start their singing season on or around week 2 of February, unless it is a very mild winter - which this one hasn't actually been.

[jayne lee wilson]

A number of our resident birds have started to sing: So far I have heard Robin, Great Tit and Song Thrush. I expect Mistle Thrushes will also be singing. Song Thrush is always the one I notice first because it is the loudest around here (we don't get Mistle Thrushes). It's easily recognised because, as Browning noticed, it sings every phrase twice (at least).

Yesterday Mrs Humana and I went to the coast in search of ducks (both freshwater and saltwater) and seabirds. The ducks were a bit of a disappointment due to the lack of any big freeze in the Netherlands to push birds our way. There were lots of Tufted Ducks, but little else, though that else did include a Ring-necked Duck (a transatlantic stray), a pair of Goldeneye and, on the sea, a pair of Common Scoter. We had excellent views of Great Crested Grebe, Black-necked Grebe and Slavonian Grebe and very distant views of four Great Northern Divers. The Slavonian Grebe was on the sea, fishing just a few feet offshore along with a Guillemot. Away towards the horizon a few Gannets were diving. Not a bad day really.

I used to love sea-watching in the autumn gales...too long ago. Today (about 2 miles from the coast here) I saw another Cormorant heading inland, just as the Jackdaw flock were excitably mobbing a Sparrowhawk, perhaps also a Buzzard I failed to spot. As dusk fell, a Raven flew in, vronking. Perched high in the Chestnuts. Leisured as ever, it left in its own time, unconcerned at its Jackdaw escort.

As for Robins, they scarcely stop singing, except during the late summer moult. Through late autumn and winter I always hear them, all through the night beneath the streetlights; often the first bird you'll hear at dawn, and the last before dusk (sometimes a solitary Crow outdoes them), till the bird-world falls silent once again. Blue and Great Tits have been twittering and chiming for several days now. Green shoots of bluebells and daffodils are already through the muddy, waterlogged levels of the orchard, or poking through the layers of old leaves left for Hedgehogs. The moss lawn encroaches further.

And today I did hear a Mistle Thrush with that far-carrying, so distinctive, repeated mellow whistle, so evocative of space, trees, early Spring. It tells me the days are finally lengthening, the world is waking up again.

[ardcarp]

As for Robins, they scarcely stop singing,

Robins seemed especially vocal on our walk today. Also saw Redshanks, Shelduck, Teal, Little Grebes (one of my fave birds) and hundreds of Lapwing. Also one Reed Bunting.

[Vox Humana]

I used to love sea-watching in the autumn gales...too long ago. Today (about 2 miles from the coast here) I saw another Cormorant heading inland, just as the Jackdaw flock were excitably mobbing a Sparrowhawk, perhaps also a Buzzard I failed to spot. As dusk fell, a Raven flew in, vronking. Perched high in the Chestnuts. Leisured as ever, it left in its own time, unconcerned at its Jackdaw escort.

As for Robins, they scarcely stop singing, except during the late summer moult. Through late autumn and winter I always hear them, all through the night beneath the streetlights; often the first bird you'll hear at dawn, and the last before dusk (sometimes a solitary Crow outdoes them), till the bird-world falls silent once again. Blue and Great Tits have been twittering and chiming for several days now. Green shoots of bluebells and daffodils are already through the muddy, waterlogged levels of the orchard, or poking through the layers of old leaves left for Hedgehogs. The moss lawn encroaches further.

And today I did hear a Mistle Thrush with that far-carrying, so distinctive, repeated mellow whistle, so evocative of space, trees, early Spring. It tells me the days are finally lengthening, the world is waking up again.

Nice post, Jayne! Ah, those autumn seawatches! I remember occasionally spending a minimum of six hours from dawn on St Ives Island in Cornwall in a force eight nor'wester, decked from head to foot in waterproofs, packed lunch in pockets, thermos at the feet, plastic bag to protect my telescope from the squalls. But the birds. Oh, the birds! When the wind was just right they were fabulous. In a good blow it was one of the great birding spectacles of the Western Palearctic. You'd have something like 120 Gannets per minute powering past, plus hundreds of Guillemots and Razorbills and then all the other stuff like shearwaters, skuas, petrels and probably a few Grey Phalaropes and a Sabine's Gull or two. The first two or three hours would be hectic, then it would calm down a bit, but on the best days there were never any very dull periods. Those days were unforgettable. Alas, I've become a wimp in my old age and I'm reluctant to make the long drive. However, I did stir my stumps a couple of years ago one day when the forecast was right. It wasn't a bad day at all and felt quite like the old times. I must do it once more while I'm still mobile.

[Padraig]

I can't match the eloquence of the last few posts - nor indeed the consistent quality of the entire thread - but it might be of interest to read of this development regarding eagles.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-northern-ireland-foyle-west-42902056

p s RT has probably visited the site.