I'm about 2 weeks late in doing my tale of the year, which in itself is a very Green Sand thing.
You'll all know by now my posts are often on a theme, with details of trips and observations thrown in to illustrate them. I'm not much of a journal writer- I've tried and failed- so Lord help any future bird historian who tries to make sense of my birding based on Birdtrack, Bubo and my 'quirky' blog posts- particularly the titles
.
Overall, I'm happy with how 2022 went, on a personal level. I got 3 lifers- admittedly I slightly broke my rule of not twitching- and at 151 species was my third best ever total. I managed to visit the majority of the places I wanted to, most of the places I needed to, and needless to say all of the places I was forced to. Birding on a country walk with my missus is hardly a hardship, mind you. I got unexpected species (such as Great White Egret), and dipped on some that I would have hoped to get (Ring Ouzel, hen harrier and any bloody owl species) I got some birds ridiculously easily (black- winged stilt and garganey from the visitor centre at RSPB Lochwinnoch) and other species the (really) hard way, such as common scoter on a cliff top in a gale. I got a lot of ticks by researching a bit about sites beforehand, and (much more impressively) using fieldcraft to know when and where to find things. I might finally be getting the hang of it. Maybe.
The pain of working 3 months of weekends at the start of the year was rewarded by my birding being reborn with the purchase of my spotting scope- gift of sight restored (© my mate Bill) and the ability to not only find birds that were otherwise lost to me, but to appreciate the beauty of the obvious, the beauty of the commonplace. I found that there is no such thing as a mundane bird, no such thing as drab. (please see my emotional rantings about snipe and little grebe) Finally I was able to match the emotional aspect of 'being out' with a tangible beauty.
Like every year I had guilt and anxiety that I wasn't doing justice to my special places, or places I had resolved to spend more time in. Like most years I wondered why the hell I risked my life to go to RSPB Inversnaid. Stunningly beautiful, but the road there is a death trap. The 'why didn't I' and 'why did I' moments weren't too bad, though, and will form the basis of 2023's resolutions.
I even managed a couple of days out of differing sizes with my mate Bill- birding being the solitary pastime thats best shared with a good friend.
My aim to maximise public transport birding worked well, albeit some places are still only realistically reachable by car (in the case of Inversnaid, by boat) and I'll continue to list miles per tick. 11.5 miles per year tick was my average, and I'd like to get that down to 10. There were a few very mile- heavy trips, and I'd like to make sure that any such trips have the birds to back them up. Too many big car journeys ended up with 1 or 2 ticks, so much better planning and timing will be needed.
I think I've benefitted from the positive endorphins of getting out, of being out, and of quality birding when doing so. The wider environmental crisis has made a grumpy, eccentric, slightly introverted chap like me galvanised and more vocal. Helps that I have kids and would like them to have some sort of future. The alternative is to get depressed. I prefer to fight for what I love and believe in, but then everyone agrees that when I'm riled I'm a wee nyaff who could start a fight in an empty house.
So, to 2023. I will be happy with 140 species this year. I realise just how lucky some of last years were to get me to 151, but again, you maybe make your own luck. My mate Bill always attributes his superlative years to putting the hours in, so my overriding resolution for 2023 will be to go birding, to be birding, to stay birding.
A very happy, healthy and successful 2023 to you all.
John
You'll all know by now my posts are often on a theme, with details of trips and observations thrown in to illustrate them. I'm not much of a journal writer- I've tried and failed- so Lord help any future bird historian who tries to make sense of my birding based on Birdtrack, Bubo and my 'quirky' blog posts- particularly the titles
.Overall, I'm happy with how 2022 went, on a personal level. I got 3 lifers- admittedly I slightly broke my rule of not twitching- and at 151 species was my third best ever total. I managed to visit the majority of the places I wanted to, most of the places I needed to, and needless to say all of the places I was forced to. Birding on a country walk with my missus is hardly a hardship, mind you. I got unexpected species (such as Great White Egret), and dipped on some that I would have hoped to get (Ring Ouzel, hen harrier and any bloody owl species) I got some birds ridiculously easily (black- winged stilt and garganey from the visitor centre at RSPB Lochwinnoch) and other species the (really) hard way, such as common scoter on a cliff top in a gale. I got a lot of ticks by researching a bit about sites beforehand, and (much more impressively) using fieldcraft to know when and where to find things. I might finally be getting the hang of it. Maybe.
The pain of working 3 months of weekends at the start of the year was rewarded by my birding being reborn with the purchase of my spotting scope- gift of sight restored (© my mate Bill) and the ability to not only find birds that were otherwise lost to me, but to appreciate the beauty of the obvious, the beauty of the commonplace. I found that there is no such thing as a mundane bird, no such thing as drab. (please see my emotional rantings about snipe and little grebe) Finally I was able to match the emotional aspect of 'being out' with a tangible beauty.
Like every year I had guilt and anxiety that I wasn't doing justice to my special places, or places I had resolved to spend more time in. Like most years I wondered why the hell I risked my life to go to RSPB Inversnaid. Stunningly beautiful, but the road there is a death trap. The 'why didn't I' and 'why did I' moments weren't too bad, though, and will form the basis of 2023's resolutions.
I even managed a couple of days out of differing sizes with my mate Bill- birding being the solitary pastime thats best shared with a good friend.
My aim to maximise public transport birding worked well, albeit some places are still only realistically reachable by car (in the case of Inversnaid, by boat) and I'll continue to list miles per tick. 11.5 miles per year tick was my average, and I'd like to get that down to 10. There were a few very mile- heavy trips, and I'd like to make sure that any such trips have the birds to back them up. Too many big car journeys ended up with 1 or 2 ticks, so much better planning and timing will be needed.
I think I've benefitted from the positive endorphins of getting out, of being out, and of quality birding when doing so. The wider environmental crisis has made a grumpy, eccentric, slightly introverted chap like me galvanised and more vocal. Helps that I have kids and would like them to have some sort of future. The alternative is to get depressed. I prefer to fight for what I love and believe in, but then everyone agrees that when I'm riled I'm a wee nyaff who could start a fight in an empty house.
So, to 2023. I will be happy with 140 species this year. I realise just how lucky some of last years were to get me to 151, but again, you maybe make your own luck. My mate Bill always attributes his superlative years to putting the hours in, so my overriding resolution for 2023 will be to go birding, to be birding, to stay birding.
A very happy, healthy and successful 2023 to you all.
John
