Four seasons in one day, or more accurately 3, or more accurately, 1.

Saturday 11th July 09

The lure of a potential lifer, Stilt Sandpiper, at Loch of Strathbeg, was too much to ignore. So I stopped only at Stonehaven Kwik Fit to have my bald tyres retreaded with a hot scalpel (it was cheaper) before heading off north. I had missed the main rush on Thursday night, so it was nice n' quiet when I got there. The Stilt Sandpiper was showing nicely, if at scope range, and initally, asleep, the git. So while I was waiting for it to wake up, a scan to the left revealed the adult Pectoral Sandpiper feeding sewing machine fashion in the mud among the Black-headed Gulls and resting Common Terns. The Pec was pretty sweet, with a nicely defined breeding-type breast. Then the Stilt Sand woke up and that was pretty spectacliar too. I honoured its memory by whipping off one of my world-renowned biro sketches.

Once again the usual apology, but this is a genuine field (well, visitor centre tbh) drawing done at the time without revision. There were one or two other people trickling through, including those who need the reserve centre staff to get it in the scope for them. I don't like to be uncharitable, I really don't, but if you discount the 100+ Northern Lapwings, which tend not to represent an identification challenge, the only shorebirds on that pool were the Stilt Sand, the Pec and a Ringed Plover, so we weren't exactly pushing the boundaries of birding here. Was a nice bird though. 3 Little Gulls among the Black-headed Gulls too, and a distant Western Marsh Harrier.


Sunday 12th July 09.

Wader passage... autumn is here! Back to the 'pleasures' of Newtonhill seawatching. 06:40 - 08:40, pissing down with in-your-face rain and bloody freezing. My poor teeth were actually chattering. And for.... poor visibility. Between showers, a few birds came through. A single Little Gull was the scarcest. 31 Manx Sheawaters, 4 Great Skuas. 6 Velvet Scoters south, 4 Common Terns north, 2 Sandwich Terns south. 292 Northern Gannets north, 100s of Black-legged Kittiwakes and plenty of Northern Fulmars, Atlantic Puffins, Razorbills and Guillemots (Common Murres). Although everything from terns down is local breeding stuff, there were actually more things out there than I had any right to expect, so crap is my valley.

So when the April showers took a break mid-morning, spring gave way to a dense foggy autumn (the season of 'Season of Mists' quotes) and burnt off to a sweltering summer teatime. I was praying for a hailstorm before bed, but all I got was Pipistrelle Bats.

Northern Brown Argus

Lovely day.

It was also a lovely day on Tuesday morning. Had car, driving over flyover onto A90 (better than crashing thru central reservation - police get cross again). Big cloudless blue sky. Perfection in firmament etc bollox. Hold! Flaw in firmament.... bird flying . Barnacle Goose! Weird. not exactly overrun with feral breeding barnies.

Back to Sunday. Common Reed Bunting singing at St Anne's track. Used to say 'Nul points to Norway'. But brutally unfair to triumphant Norway. Juvvy Song Thrush, barely flying. Sedge Warbler carrying food into bracken. Juvvy Sedgies no doubt enjoying whatever muck. World's scruffiest male Grey Wagtail decided to moult in full view of children and tramps. Beach... covered in happy families enjoying sun, avoiding pervert grey wags. Cliff steps. Common Blue butterflies, hundreds of Painted Ladies kicking about, lots of Magpie Moths Silver-Ys. Not a great butterfly expert. But though a couple of the female Common Blues looked a bit weird. No blue, very dark. Are they meant to have those little white dots on the wings? Checked when get home... Northern Brown Argus! bugger me. And there are a few records from this bit of coast. Aha. Patch tick.

A Northern Brown Argus very similar to those on the wing today at N/hill.

Offshore. Auks very busy. Guillemots and Razorbills in all directions. Atlantic Puffin heading to burrows with fish. 8 Manx Shearwaters all heading north, a few Northern Gannets too. And the
first autumn migrant of the year... a Common Sandpiper on the rocks. Roll on autumn.

Back from BOU

Back from the BOURC meeting in our secret underground bunker somewhere in, or maybe near (don't want to be too specific) Petrograd. We invented a new word (also see here!). Remember a few years ago, maybe about 10 tbh, when Viz magazine (even back then, it wasn't as funny as it used to be), promised it was going to print the rudest word inthe English language on the front page of the comic and still get into the newsstands at WH Smiths.

I'm pretty sure I know what the rudest word in the English language is... in fact it's so rude the only place I ever see it in print is on Tom McKinney's deceased blog. When the big day came, Viz in fact had cheated and invented a new official rudest word in the English language. The word the came up with was 'fitbin'. Maybe they were hoping it would take off and become a new dictionary rudest word. Anyway, it totally failed to take off and in my entire adult life I have not heard anyone use the word fitbin, even in jest.

Still, not learning from the Viz's triumph, BOURC invented a new word, for those pesky annoying crossbills, petrels of all sorts, and any barcoded species that you might end up having to see but doing so only spoils your birding day - the craptic species.

We consider two or more species to be ‘craptic’ if they are, or have been, classified as a single nominal species because they are at least superficially morphologically indistinguishable. Some authors further stipulate that species designated as ‘craptic’ should be recently diverged, separable only with molecular data, occur in sympatry, or be reproductively isolated; however, we do not regard these as essential features of craptic species. We acknowledge that there is no single best species concept and therefore exclude the latter qualification of reproductive isolation to disentangle definition of craptic species from the quagmire surrounding species concepts.

(See here for a less sophisticated earlier argument)

I have a good feeling that this is going to take off. They should go into their own Category of the Britsh List, in my opinion. Something like Category K.

And also, didn't Springwatch go all moody and serious last week?

Criminal negligence.

Before senility and death take me... I shall try and remember what's been going on recently. Took the family to Loch of the Lowes to see the Ospreys that they've been watching hatch and grow up here. When we got there it was a bit wet and mum was keeping her head down on the nest, so not a lot to see. Peter and Lizzie kept themselves amused by looking at baby ducks. The dad Osprey came in, circled round and caught a fish in front of the hide. The kiddies nearly wet themselves and peter declared it was his 'best day ever'. Bless. I spoilt the beauty of the moment by doing an impression of Spongebob singing the 'Best Day Ever' song. Quietly of course. But Lo! Why be quiet? Diane texted Wendy to say she was in the hide at LotL watching the Ospreys, and Wendy phoned her back! The atmosphere of hushed awe was shattered by a ringtone version 'Sweet Child of Mine' at no little volume and Diane going 'Ah, I don't know how to turn this off.' It was a brilliant moment. I celebrated by taking my entry for this year's Bird Photograph of the Year competition.


What else... I snapped a couple of juvenile White-throated Dippers along the Elsick Burn. They were almost under the bridge, and I was almost over the bridge, hence the funny angle, but at about 3 m away I could really have done with them stepping back a bit.


And a singing Garden Warbler in the bushes down the track to the sea - been there for two weeks now. Exactly where one turned up a couple of years ago. Never quite sure if it's likely to be the same bird, or whether the habitat is just good enough to haul 'em in.

Rather nice Common Whitethroat singing on a twig overhanging the cliff overhanging the sea. Extreme territory. Full of blurry flies too, if you believe the photos.


I've had my fair share of these 10s of millions of Painted Ladies that have been making their way into the county, viz. I had 1 on the last day of may, and then 2 on 7th June. Read it and weep. Maybe that was my share, but I've just been very bad. A Small Copper on 7th June too.

I've been running around the place. It's not natural and it's against the laws of nature, but I entered the Stonehaven Half Marathon, and was alarmed to find out the first six miles is uphill. So I've beentrotting up the local hills. The only interestng bird I bumped into was a dead mole. AND a Grasshopper Warbler, singing in the marsh near the logpile farm, whatever it is called (readers who don't actually live in Newtonhill might not be able to place it).

Thanks to Katie for pointing this out. Blows my small mammal finding activity out of the water.

Retreat! Retreat!

Monday 18th May 09.

A Common Chiffchaff singing at the top of Newtonhill Road this morning. Bet it's gone by tomorrow.


Tuesday 19th May 09
.. it's gone.

I was on a retreat... don't ask. In Old Aberdeen, next to this.


Little known fact... the great ornithologist William Macgillivray (see here), contemporary and friend of Audubon, author of a great 5 volume History of British Birds (Vol I, 1837), lover of long walks through the countryside accompanied by young boys, lived in the University of Aberdeen Conference and Events Office.


MacGillivray has got a bum deal from history - the first person to be really describing birds in detail as they were, on this side of the World. But he was eventually scooped, at least in popular imagination, by the better connected, toned and tanned, William Yarrell, who also published the first volume of his History of British Birds in 1837. Yarrell's book was an easier read, but not as good on the descriptions, of birds OR young boys.

William Macgillivray - sorrowful loser in the Battle of the Bills, we salute you.

More tales from the Crypt - now with added weather.

Saturday 16th May 09

Very strong easterlies and torrential duck rain overnight. The morning dawned bright with very strong easterlies and more torrential duck rain, brightening to very strong easterlies and torrential duck rain asthe day wore on. I had to run around the patch quickly before the criminal elements in the house woke up. Bit wet, tbf. Not a total washout - a Lesser Whitethroat at the Mill is a one-per-spring bird for me. But that was pretty much it. A White-throated Dipper was carrying food.

Let the cruel North Sea yield Her bounty of migrant birds...

Sunday 17th May 09

Nicer than Saturday...

Still wet early on but it did genuinely stop raining. A Grey Wagtail was feeding two fresh juvvies in a puddle near the railway viaduct. AND there were 2 (count 'em, two) migrant birds in the sycamores at the Mill. A Spotted Flycatcher and a Garden Warbler. Early promise not fulfilled though.... there was nothing in Honeypoy Lane, or down the burn, unless you want me to note that we are crawling with Common Whitethroats so far this year. 6 Sedge Warblers singing down the burn and in fact 30+ today, all over the shop, even in people's gardens in St Michae;l's Road, so there probably were quite a few migrants around.

Dipper carrying food again on the burn, and a couple of Red-throated Divers offshore.

A total 4 hours birding failed to produce a single observation I could be bothered writing down. Except I did see two Dunnocks enjoying congress in the Allotments. 3 minutes of cloacal felching and girlie soliciting, followed by a 2 femtasecond shag. And quite possibly back in the pub by opening time.

Tales from the Crypt.

Wednesday 6th May 09

Nocturnal mischief produces good birds... a Grasshopper Warlber singing from rape fields just west of the A90 this evening, and a Tawny Owl calling at Porthlethen.


Saturday 9th May 09

Sedge Warblers must have turned up during the week - by this morning they were in the rough vegetation around Cookney and Portlethen.


Sunday 10th May 09

... and this morning the Sedge Warblers were singing along the Elsick Burn at Newtonhill. Also a small passage of Sand Martins (Bank Swallows) with 2 going up the burn and singles dribbling north along the coast during the morning. I noticed this late passage in previous years too.

Not a whole lot of other movement going on. A Blackcap sang briefly along Honeypot Lane, but I bet he's not planning on hanging around long. A Common Chaffinch was carrying a fecal sac out of the Leylandii here, and my Sherlock Holmes-esque nest finding abilities produced a pair of Coal Tits in a wall at East Cammachmore. Some Eurasian Siskins at the Retreat are likely breeding around here too.

10 male Common Eiders in the bay, one of which had a dark olive bill with no trace of yellow - very much in the minority here, and probably on his way somewhere less radical than emo/alt Newtonhill.

Girl Eider sees something interesting.



Brown-headed Cow. So near, yet so far.

Common Yellowthroats >>>> Common Whitethroats.

...sorry Whitethroats, but it's true. I wonder if I can set up a poll or something. Rate these 4 birds in order....

Yellowthroat
Whitethroat
Bluethroat
Rubythroat.

Anyway, catch up time. On my last day in Nawlins... the only new birds were Monk Parakeet (they really do get everywhere) and 2 Cliff Swallows hanging about over the I10.

Sunday 3rd May.

Back on the patch in Newtonhill, ready to hoover up all the incoming migrants. But although the place was crawling with Willow Warblers, there were no Sedge Warblers to be found anywhere down the Elsick Burn, or on the allotments or down to Muchalls etc. They're late! Lazy lazy sods.

A Common Chiffchaff singing briefly at the top ofthe St Annes track, House Martins and Barn Swallows overhead, also a Redpoll (sp, but Lesser!) calling over. Down to the burn, and a Song Thrush gathering food, & a Common Whitethroat down by the dead willow. It was then that I had the heretical thought about throat ratings.

3 Eurasian Siskins in the garden at the Retreat, but nothing except a Grey Wagtail at the Mill Garden, and down the track just another couple of Song Thrushes.

35 Common Eiders in the bay, and while looking at them, 3 Bottle-nosed Dolphins popped up and swam south. Better.

off the breeding cliffs, the water was full of auks and I got some photos of distant Atlantic Puffins, and a few of the Guillemots (Common Murres) on ledges. I know Newtonhill isn't the greatest migrant trap in the world, but I'm kinda happy that I managed to organise a job somewhere where I could have Puffins as a patch breeder.



3 Whimbrels flew over as I was lounging around the clifftops in the sunshine.

Allotments and Muchalls track were uneventful, if you ignore the piles of Greenfinches. A Common Reed Bunting was singing at the top of Water Valley, and a few Yellowhammers around in the gorse. Coastal fields were disappointingly devoid of Crested Larks. Same way they were disappointingly devoid of Black Larks... was it last year, or two years ago? All the years are merging into one big long downhill slide to the grave. Spooky.