Sometimes, the best birding involves not just the ticks you gather during a productive day in the field, nor just immersing oneself in birding spectacles. Sometimes, the two come together to offer something close to birding perfection.
Got an unexpected bonus on Sunday that allowed the birding stars to align in my favour. Boss Chick decided to be kind to me and let me have my car. No sooner had she uttered these words, than I was on the M8 heading East. I vaguely herd some instruction about being back by 'teatime' which is fairly amorphous and prone to interpretation. My excitement at being allowed out, with the means to go far, meant I didn't stop to question her.
The M8, of course, heads East, and I found myself in Musselburgh, a place recommended occasionally by my birding mate, Bluebill. The Lothian birds (or SOC) websites have excellent stuff on Musselburgh, and I used this to find a better parking place than the one I usually resort to.
The tide was out, and the river was fairly barren. While in some coastal areas this would spell disaster, Musselburgh has so much more to offer- almost s if the birding Gods decided to put in place a contingency plan.
Plenty of swallows feeding/ bathing, and a pair of mute swans gliding gracefully and swan- like on the river. Further down, loads of gulls on the mud, making a racket, plus obiquitous redshank probing the mud. On one of the mud spits, I heard and saw a mini- colony of terns next to a herring gull. All this quite distant, but the hubbub of activity was evident even so.
Moving on along the sea wall, got curlew probing the mud, plus pied wagtail (immatures, judging by the plumage)
Best result thus far was a solitary bar- tailed godwit feeding close in to the wall, perfect light, perfect distance, it posed for me and allowed me to check my handy Collins book. Year tick, and only the second Barwit ever (first one was at Guardbridge with my Scotbird contacts The Eagle, Macrude, Bluebill and Calidris) Good feeling to get it on my own as well.
Rafts of eider far out, looking fairly tatty in the moult. Onto the scrapes, the duck pond had dabchicks and coots, and drinking teenagers camping by the side. Moving swiftly on, an audible (and probably visible) chiffchaff called next to the western-most hide. Once there, got chatting to a fellow birder, and we quickly got redshank, ruff, common sand, lapwing, dunlin, BH gulls and a heron.
Onto the second hide, met a charming young couple with their kids, and had a really enjoyable time chatting to them. Here, I got redshank (of course) pied wag, a flock of shelduck which came in, ruff, heron, oycs, lapwing, and best of all, a snipe which showed ridiculously well. Almost as good was the sight of a family birding, with the kids taking an interest in nature.
At the third hide, I got teal (plenty o' them) pied wag, redshank, ruff, stick dove, and a probably black- tailed godwit.
By now time was moving on, and I planned my return route to the car, along the sea wall. The tide was due in by now, so I expected a lot more action. I wasn't disappointed. Skeins of curlew and oystercatcher flew in off the rivermouth toward the scrapes- there's something about curlew flying 10 feet above your head to take your breath away. On the sea, the eider were far closer, with a raft of velvet scoter further out. A pair of GC grebes kept close to them. Sea- viewing was interrupted regularly by wave after wave of curlew, oycs and redshank, all flying at low level. As I'm not a Musselburgh regular, this was a first for me, a real wildlife spectacle.
As I followed the flight of the oystercatchers (good title for a film, actually) a half dozen grey partridge popped up and landed about 20 feet away, showing just long enough to get a view and an I.D. Lifer!!
A sudden movement caught my eye, and I traced a stonechat to the top of a thistle. A tad worn and scabby, but definitely a stonechat. Only my second ever one, so was pretty chuffed.
Back to the sea, the rising tide had energised the terns, as they wheeled about, screaming and screeching. Got a few photos, as well.
Moving further on, a group of 7 GC grebes floated near the wall, and as I peered over the top, movement on a rock caught my eye. There, almost perfectly camouflaged, was a Turnstone- either moulting or a juvenile. Watched it for a while, as it hopped about, fed on whatever seaweed bugs it could find. I was distracted only by yet more oycs flying over, by now the scrapes must have been standing- room only. Time was really getting away from me, and watching the constant stream of low- flying waders was putting my marriage at risk. Worse still, my memory card was full, and reluctantly, I traipsed back to the car.
One lifer, one year tick, more Ruffs, more terns, one Scotbirder, and a truly inspiring wildlife spectacle. The massed ranks fo waders flying low overhead effectively made me feel insubstantial, and emphasised that birding is often a one- way affection. We love birds, we love to see them, but on the whole, they will carry on with their lives regardless.
What a day!!
Got an unexpected bonus on Sunday that allowed the birding stars to align in my favour. Boss Chick decided to be kind to me and let me have my car. No sooner had she uttered these words, than I was on the M8 heading East. I vaguely herd some instruction about being back by 'teatime' which is fairly amorphous and prone to interpretation. My excitement at being allowed out, with the means to go far, meant I didn't stop to question her.
The M8, of course, heads East, and I found myself in Musselburgh, a place recommended occasionally by my birding mate, Bluebill. The Lothian birds (or SOC) websites have excellent stuff on Musselburgh, and I used this to find a better parking place than the one I usually resort to.
The tide was out, and the river was fairly barren. While in some coastal areas this would spell disaster, Musselburgh has so much more to offer- almost s if the birding Gods decided to put in place a contingency plan.
Plenty of swallows feeding/ bathing, and a pair of mute swans gliding gracefully and swan- like on the river. Further down, loads of gulls on the mud, making a racket, plus obiquitous redshank probing the mud. On one of the mud spits, I heard and saw a mini- colony of terns next to a herring gull. All this quite distant, but the hubbub of activity was evident even so.
Moving on along the sea wall, got curlew probing the mud, plus pied wagtail (immatures, judging by the plumage)
Best result thus far was a solitary bar- tailed godwit feeding close in to the wall, perfect light, perfect distance, it posed for me and allowed me to check my handy Collins book. Year tick, and only the second Barwit ever (first one was at Guardbridge with my Scotbird contacts The Eagle, Macrude, Bluebill and Calidris) Good feeling to get it on my own as well.
Rafts of eider far out, looking fairly tatty in the moult. Onto the scrapes, the duck pond had dabchicks and coots, and drinking teenagers camping by the side. Moving swiftly on, an audible (and probably visible) chiffchaff called next to the western-most hide. Once there, got chatting to a fellow birder, and we quickly got redshank, ruff, common sand, lapwing, dunlin, BH gulls and a heron.
Onto the second hide, met a charming young couple with their kids, and had a really enjoyable time chatting to them. Here, I got redshank (of course) pied wag, a flock of shelduck which came in, ruff, heron, oycs, lapwing, and best of all, a snipe which showed ridiculously well. Almost as good was the sight of a family birding, with the kids taking an interest in nature.
At the third hide, I got teal (plenty o' them) pied wag, redshank, ruff, stick dove, and a probably black- tailed godwit.
By now time was moving on, and I planned my return route to the car, along the sea wall. The tide was due in by now, so I expected a lot more action. I wasn't disappointed. Skeins of curlew and oystercatcher flew in off the rivermouth toward the scrapes- there's something about curlew flying 10 feet above your head to take your breath away. On the sea, the eider were far closer, with a raft of velvet scoter further out. A pair of GC grebes kept close to them. Sea- viewing was interrupted regularly by wave after wave of curlew, oycs and redshank, all flying at low level. As I'm not a Musselburgh regular, this was a first for me, a real wildlife spectacle.
As I followed the flight of the oystercatchers (good title for a film, actually) a half dozen grey partridge popped up and landed about 20 feet away, showing just long enough to get a view and an I.D. Lifer!!
A sudden movement caught my eye, and I traced a stonechat to the top of a thistle. A tad worn and scabby, but definitely a stonechat. Only my second ever one, so was pretty chuffed.
Back to the sea, the rising tide had energised the terns, as they wheeled about, screaming and screeching. Got a few photos, as well.
Moving further on, a group of 7 GC grebes floated near the wall, and as I peered over the top, movement on a rock caught my eye. There, almost perfectly camouflaged, was a Turnstone- either moulting or a juvenile. Watched it for a while, as it hopped about, fed on whatever seaweed bugs it could find. I was distracted only by yet more oycs flying over, by now the scrapes must have been standing- room only. Time was really getting away from me, and watching the constant stream of low- flying waders was putting my marriage at risk. Worse still, my memory card was full, and reluctantly, I traipsed back to the car.
One lifer, one year tick, more Ruffs, more terns, one Scotbirder, and a truly inspiring wildlife spectacle. The massed ranks fo waders flying low overhead effectively made me feel insubstantial, and emphasised that birding is often a one- way affection. We love birds, we love to see them, but on the whole, they will carry on with their lives regardless.
What a day!!
