Autumn at Halftwo's (1 Viewer)

[halftwo]

Crowded Skies

it was great to see the tight knot group of birds forming to produce all the shapes in the sky

A luminescent clouded sky, lit by the late sun rising, cleared and the rain stopped.
Out on patch searching for Corn buntings and already the western horizon banked inkily, blowing in on strong winds. The easterly sun lit the scene - corn stubble soggy and muddy puddles sparkling.

Hundreds of Starlings in winter spangles flowed over the field like locusts - brimming over the hedge in a wave to the next. Scores more weighed down wires in long lines. In the paddock dozens of Chaffinches restlessly moving from one patch to another, or resting on fence lines for seconds. A single Linnet and two Greenfinches - but not a bunting anywhere.

Beyond: Jackdaws and Rooks rising and landing to new feeding amongst the sawn off corn. Further out against the grey Buzzards soared and scared the corvids to swirl again; and beyond them fifty Black-headed gulls got up to chalk specks on the slate. A hundred Wood pigeons launched to glint pastel shades in the sun.

Thousands of eyes failed to spot the Sparrowhawk as she swept in from behind the high hawthorn hedge - she swerved past my face and looped a circle to repeat - then landed on the fence in front of me, eyeing the finches and Starlings now balled in knots of panic.

Off she went again and was lost amongst the crowds - just as, incongruously huge, two Mute swans, creaking wings beating heavily, curved over from the canal, shining whitely in the bright.

Back down the lane I thought the Little owl was perched on its tree, but it was the Sparrowhawk, hunched against the wind: cuckoo-barred breast and fierce eye watching - she fled against the field and was gone.

 

[halftwo]

Little Owl and Rainbow

An undulating wave of birds rolling out to the horizon - spilling from field to sky in panic - filling the air with specks and dots, blinking and twisting, turning and looping - an explosion in slow motion running down the line of vision towards the rainbow.

Somewhere a Peregrine was aligning for a kill, but amongst the myriad of mixed species I alone failed to see the falcon - even if its presence was undeniable.

Starlings began to settle on stubble again - moving continuously to feed in a rolling rug of individuals made one in the mass.
And towards that mass launched the Sparrowhawk.

Keeping inches from the corn-spiked ground she accelerated towards her prey. The head-down Starlings were caught off-guard.

In among them she picked out a victim. The others swerved away and it was left alone. Now she rose as the prey lifted skyward, twisting desperately against the rainbow's backdrop. She followed and turned as the Starling banked back to the corn stalks.

With a swerve the Starling distanced itself to a failsafe gap and the hawk knew she had missed, turned to retreat to her lookout, now merely flying rather than hunting, and the flocks resumed their feeding.

Now the rainbow closed in - a complete half-circle of bright delight - arcing over half the world - colours against the soot sky.

Crouched to a ball on its bough the Little owl swivelled its head and turned away.

 

[halftwo]

Witness to Murder

Well almost.

Arriving in Stoke Newington, London, from the late train to Euston and a longish bus journey through streets still crowded at eleven in the evening - sirens blaring in our ears, jostling along busy dug-up pavements, late-night shops still open, humans of every hue and ethnicity speaking many tongues, we out-of-towners felt very foreign as the hubbub boiled at a junction and CPR came too late to a stabbed man prostrate on the pavement, a small crowd gathered about his just-dead body, policemen trying to clear the road to block it off...

And so it was we came to the capital, where we walked the next day and hopped buses and tubes and trains and saw the exhibition and grew weary of the din and dirtied by the grime, exhausted by the weight of humanity in all its diversity, shouted at by those made mentally ill by their stress in the city, fascinated by the non-stop, hurtling twenty-four hour rush hour, took in all on offer and hoped for an end to the mayhem, the incessant, maddening deafening sensory overload, and found a refuge.

Abney Cemetary: wildlife sanctuary and architectural preserve: acres of overgrown graves tumbling amongst distressed statuary - angels and urns, tombs and columns, nestboxes and batboxes.

Distant traffic a mere hum in the background; now the tick of Robin and Wren, the bright flashes of woodpecker and Chaffinch, the rattle of Magpie and the Jay sitting on the sweet chestnut.

The birds outnumbered the gay men cruising the footpaths for encounters and short-lived libidinous liaisons amongst the gravestones, and the one homeless, far-from-home African carrying his belongings and seeking shelter by the now-defunct chapel, standing derelict yet proud.

Returning by rail as the sun set on the eternally busy city, to lesser crowded, and fonder parts, set apart from the madness, the madcap frenzy and murderous streets.

In sweet contrast this morning a patch tiercel Peregrine putting up corvids and striking out for Stock doves panicked from trees at his passing.

 

[joannec]

Hummmm.........reminds me of why I left Stoke Newington a long time ago.

 

[SueO]

There is a reason so many of us are enamored by the natural world. As usual, H, very descriptive and enjoyable posts. All the best to you and Mrs. H.
Sue

 

[halftwo]

Pylon Peregrine

Joanne,
It still has some things to recommend it - though I couldn't hack Hackney for long.
Hi Sue, thanks. Are you still in Ca?


A Song thrush sang to greet the rising sun this morning as high overhead heading east at least a hundred and fifty Pink-footed geese, calling from sky high, in three long chevrons, arrowed towards the blinding.

Out on patch as clouds drooped soggily and the air grew chill the tiercel Peregrine perched on the pylon overlooking the Little owl tree, where the owl crouched, timid to the three menacing crows.

The falcon powered away west, putting up corvids that had been gathering in crowds amongst corn stubble - re-distributing them to the four winds. A single Mallard up from the pond, circled amongst the Rooks and Stock doves, but the Red-legs merely melted away.

As the rain fell icily a single Mistle thrush hid in holly, the morning sun now hidden in grey.

 

[Peewit]

Joanne,
It still has some things to recommend it - though I couldn't hack Hackney for long.
Hi Sue, thanks. Are you still in Ca?

A Song thrush sang to greet the rising sun this morning as high overhead heading east at least a hundred and fifty Pink-footed geese, calling from sky high, in three long chevrons, arrowed towards the blinding.

Out on patch as clouds drooped soggily and the air grew chill the tiercel Peregrine perched on the pylon overlooking the Little owl tree, where the owl crouched, timid to the three menacing crows.

The falcon powered away west, putting up corvids that had been gathering in crowds amongst corn stubble - re-distributing them to the four winds. A single Mallard up from the pond, circled amongst the Rooks and Stock doves, but the Red-legs merely melted away.

As the rain fell icily a single Mistle thrush hid in holly, the morning sun now hidden in grey.

Hi H

Another lovely report or two. :t:

Great reading and it good that you added the 'city' dwellers theme, and view of life. It is not a pleasant sight at times. Hate built up areas myself.
Hope that you are well Sue?

Love your portrait of birds 'H' that you present and their 'starring role' to all who reads your thread.

Love to read what you have to say any time. :-O

Regards
Kathy
x

 

[halftwo]

Thanks, Kathy,
Am still without t'internet at home - but at least we now know what's wrong - new filter/router on order.

 

[Peewit]

Thanks, Kathy,
Am still without t'internet at home - but at least we now know what's wrong - new filter/router on order.

Hi H

I hope that that your internet is fixed soon, Nothing worse if you want to use forums and e-amails.
Mind you I could use Hotmail no problems, when I was internetless for a while via the local library as long as they have PC's. So you can use Hotmail no matter what!!!

Get an external router as they are easier to replace than internal ones!

Best of luck!

Regards
Kathy
x

 

[SueO]

Joanne,
It still has some things to recommend it - though I couldn't hack Hackney for long.
Hi Sue, thanks. Are you still in Ca?


Hi H,
We will be heading for our moldy/mouldy, dank, dark hole below the surface of the sea on Dec. 4. I'm am a bit reluctant to leave all the comforts and niceties that living ashore offers. I'm sure I'll feel better when I see my first Toucan. After provisioning in Curacao, we will cruise the San Blas Islands off Panama and then get through the canal. I am looking forward to birding Panama and Costa Rica.
Hi Kathy--Doing as well as one can when they are completely fed up with a ten year long camping trip.
Sorry to hear of your internet problems, H. I know how that is. I expect we will be off the grid for a month while we go through the San Blas. I love the internet.
Sue

 

[halftwo]

Whistling Wind

Sue,
Panama & Costa Rica will be awesome - they'll make up for the accommodation! Look forward to hearing some reports of your further adventures.


Rather quiet out on patch this morning - no sign of Peregrine or Little owl.
But the sun shone on through a fitfull wind - gulls were feeding petrel-like on the fields - barely touching down to pick at insects from the manure-strewn surface as if they were at sea as the wind held them, arched-winged, aloft. A single Common gull amongst the Black-headeds.

Sheltering by the hedge three Grey partridge - first year birds - huddled and pecked with Chaffinches and Blackbirds, as, overhead, a struggling straggle of geese - probably Canadas - blew north west.

Pied wagtails competed for flies with the gulls and Starlings consorted with corvids further off - getting up and resettling in dark shallow waves. Linnets in a tight bunch arced over a hovering Kestrel - a short ribbon in the breeze.

 

[halftwo]

White-Caped Blackbird

The brief now orange sun slanted low over the dark and wetted hedge as still more rain came down, falling down the sun's line in thousands of brilliant drops - the shallow angle making long shadows from the field's hedge-bound edges. And into the darker margin, from hawthorns glistening, flew Song thrushes and Chaffinches, Robins and Dunnocks, Blackbirds and Meadow pipits.

Further out where the sun reached beyond the dark, Wood pigeons and Pied wagtails, Rooks and Crows, and inevitably the Starlings.

But one bird set itself apart with its unusual markings, and now flew into vision. A Blackbird with an Ouzel-type crescent - except that the white was worn on its back rather than breast - and a white patch on one flank - held the gaze. On closer inspection it had a tiny white dot just behind the eye - giving it an odd expression.

The ever-changing sky was multi-hued and pastel-shaded, grabbing pinks and orange from the setting sun; clouds ripped and scudding across patches of blue and a silver moon.

Beyond the field a pale-headed Buzzard was hassled by a Crow and a Jay looped around its position in the tree, bright in shadow, while three Magpies rode the hedge line, leaping each other in turns, watched by a few high-perched Yellowhammers.

A female Kestrel from the telegragh pole flew between the sun and shattered to bars and flecks in the dazzling light. Gulls were homing in to roosting waters with purpose - four pm but day's end.

 

[halftwo]

Snow & Ice

Managed a quick visit to the old patch today...

Snow-covered Pennine tops just shining in the distance - but a promisingly bright, though red-skyed morning had already gone, and greyer gloom covered the world.
And where were all the birds? Even the corn stubble was empty. Nothing except a Kestrel for company until the last field - and this barely making up for absence elsewhere: Fieldfares, Mistle thrushes and Starlings massing in winter wheat, where Crows and a single bulky Buzzard strutted.

Thick ice splintered on the roadsides from still-deep puddles - but hardly a sound from the birdlife. And already it grows darker.

Back here the Nuthatches have emptied two feeders to stash sunflower seeds - scattering the rest for the ground feeders; and the peanuts are thick with sparrows - rain (snow?) on the way.

 

[halftwo]

My Patch Barn Owls

Following a few days of bitter cold after even more days of heavy rains an evening of astonishing mildness happened yesterday.
Couple this with a full moon - though quite cloudy...well, I just had to do a Barn owl walk. Phoned JB who joined me.

How different the paths were - wellies barely sufficient down waterlogged and muddy lanes. We squelched the whole way.

Moths were aplenty in the mild air. We slipped and slid our way to the place we had last seen the Barn owl and waited as the moon hid itself.

Within minutes a screech behind us, followed by a Crow's alarm, was our first encounter - though nothing showed. But now an answer from in front had us scanning the deep gloom: an asthmatic hiss clearly audible from the direction of one of the nest boxes, carried across the night every few seconds, continuously.

A while later in came a Barn owl, drifting down to the nest box's direction - but the night hid it once below the horizon. Only a brief glimpse - but a satisfactory evening's birding anyway.

We have speculated that there are young still - apparently elsewhere in the county Barn owls have chicks.

Great to have them on patch.

 

[Peewit]

Joanne,
It still has some things to recommend it - though I couldn't hack Hackney for long.
Hi Sue, thanks. Are you still in Ca?


Hi H,
We will be heading for our moldy/mouldy, dank, dark hole below the surface of the sea on Dec. 4. I'm am a bit reluctant to leave all the comforts and niceties that living ashore offers. I'm sure I'll feel better when I see my first Toucan. After provisioning in Curacao, we will cruise the San Blas Islands off Panama and then get through the canal. I am looking forward to birding Panama and Costa Rica.
Hi Kathy--Doing as well as one can when they are completely fed up with a ten year long camping trip.
Sorry to hear of your internet problems, H. I know how that is. I expect we will be off the grid for a month while we go through the San Blas. I love the internet.
Sue

Hi Sue

Great to hear from you you and all is well with yourself at the moment other than the ten year camping trip.

hi H

Glad to see you are back here at the moment, and as you know I love to read your stories about your patch. Great selection of BoP's, and all birds. o

The rain has been horrendus in the past few days, and I can see the birds and all wildlife taking cover to get away from the wet.

Regards
Kathy
x

 

[halftwo]

Thanks, Kathy.

In a small addition I saw a Merlin on my way to work today (possibly a male - there was a male around last year) - just into my patch - it flew over the road at speed in front of me.
So the old patch Merlin is back for winter - look forward to seeing more of him.

H

 

[joannec]

Thanks, Kathy.

In a small addition I saw a Merlin on my way to work today (possibly a male - there was a male around last year) - just into my patch - it flew over the road at speed in front of me.
So the old patch Merlin is back for winter - look forward to seeing more of him.

H

Snap. Seen a merlin fly through my garden three times so far! Fantastic, a new patch tick. It's always the same time of day; dusk. It's just getting dark, the first time I saw it, it nearly collided with me as it zipped through and I thought it a sparrowhawk. It squawked at me but didn't sound quite right but have since id'd it as a merlin, female or juv. I think my rural garden must be on it's path to it's roost. It's just wonderful to have such a bird. I hope it becomes a regular feature for the winter.

 

[halftwo]

Yes, Joanne, this was 3:30pm and lights were coming on in the gloom.
Maybe it will do the same tomorrow.
John, I see you watching, it was across the A56 just half a mile west of the Alty roundabout, heading towards Dunham Park.

 

[John Barber]

Merlin

So the old patch Merlin is back for winter - look forward to seeing more of him.

A Merlin. I've only ever seen one, at Inner Marsh Farm. I think the waders will be coming out soon !

 

[halftwo]

More Falcons

It all happened at once.

Went to fetch the Sundays down flooded muddied lanes and stopped to watch a small flock of Chaffinches near the pool, when up from the water a Kingfisher, calling loudly, flew to perch high in an oak, stiletto-headed and alert, bobbing and peering at the fish below.

But, directly in this line of sight, half a mile off, a Peregrine was speeding through, accelerating as a shock-wave of panic pushed from its bow. Faster now it brushed a hedge-top as corvids leapt to the air and swirled, and pigeons scattered at speed.

Lost in crowds of birds, the falcon's path visible - like a mole underground pushing soil in a line above it. The birds filled the skies to the horizon, then, like errupted lava, fell back to earth.

Now the grey lid of cloud had finally scraped away eastward to reveal the sun. Opposite shone the waning two-thirds moon. To the north cumuli crushed above the hills - a fluffy line of mashed potato.

In the stubble field now-settled passerines filled the furrows. Meadow pipits bathed in dirty puddles, restless Pied wagtails squabbled, four Sky larks, calling and momentarily visible, looped up and re-landed. Starlings, metallically-noisy strutted and probed soggy soil. Chaffinches, from hawthorn-hedge sanctuary, foraged amongst the stubble. A single Mistle thrush, huge amongst the pipits, head-up and watching the sky.

Again all were airborne - alarm calls mingling to a cloud of noise. More trouble on its way. A Kestrel, then another: two young birds still on their natal fields, more concerned with each other than prey, settled on consecutive posts, and the flocks returned to feeding.

A fuzzy out-of-focus bank of grey growing out west now spat its rain again: time to retreat and breakfast.
As I returned and passed the Little owl tree - apparently empty - I spotted a hunkered-down form in the crook of the oak, wide dark-eyes and speckly.