Monday 17 September 2018

15th September - Titchfield Haven Canal Path, Widley, and Farlington Marshes, Hampshire

The intention today was to meet Ian while still fairly dark at the top end of the Titchfield Haven Canal path.  The hope was that we could maybe catch the resident Barn Owl as it returned to roost from its nightly hunting.  The first part went well, I pulled into the car park just before 6.00 am, it was dark, but with some light away to the east as the sun threatened to rise.

Walking a little way down the path we were greeted with mist hanging low over what water there was around the marsh, and the soft tinge of pink just above the distant trees


This to me is the best time of the day, and autumn enhances further that feeling despite the slightly melancholic time of year when everything starts to think about shutting up for winter.

There was however no sign of the Barn Owl.  We checked its roosting tree which was difficult as the light and leaves made it hard to see properly.  We stood and waited, over across the marsh a grazing horse appeared in the mist.


Slowly the pink tones turned to a fiery red above the trees and the sky lost its indigo hue.


The hope of seeing the Barn Owl was now all but forgotten so we headed down the path.  As the light improved the spiders webs on the marsh started to appear, the dew catching on the silk highlighting the beauty of the over night creations.


We stopped by one web as the owner was still sat in the middle.  However despite his repeated requests this lady would not spread her legs for Ian!


Robins "clicked" from the bushes and would appear on the posts as we walked through the line of trees at Posbrook Floods, it was still gloomy, and even a Woodpigeon flying through would get our attention in the hope of something a little more interesting.  Coming out of the trees there were Goldcrests and Blue Tits busy in the hawthorn bushes and away to the west we could hear the calls of Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gulls.

The mist was still with us creating a still and calm atmosphere.


The finally the sun broke over the tree tops, and the whole scene changed.


The golden early morning light picking out the low lying mist and changing it to a warm glow that seemed to touch everything around us.


A mixed flock of tits and warblers were in the bushes, their calls and slight movement in the leaves giving away their presence.  Whitethroats, both male and female Blackcaps moving along the line of the hedge in front of us, and a large flock of Long-tailed Tits, that were more prepared to stop and show themselves.


The best thing to do was to stop and wait, the birds would move away, but then double back.  With the sun catching the leaves of the trees the insects started to move and the birds were taking advantage.

Looking eats the marsh and reeds were transformed with the golden light, the water droplets on this spider web created on a reed stem standing out against the light.


As we stood watching the mixed flock moving about in the bushes I could hear the calls of a Stonechat behind me.  Scanning for it though was difficult into the very low sunlight.  We did manage to find it though perched at the top of an old branch, its shape and jizz unmistakable even looking into the light


Turning away from the Stonechat, above us we heard the familiar call of a Raven, and two flew over heading across the marsh towards the Haven

We stopped at an area of willow trees where there were Willow Warblers and Chiffchaff moving through the branches and leaves.

A Chiffchaff.



Gradually the scene around us was changing as the sun climbed higher in the sky, across the floods though there was still some mist in the sheltered spots.


As we watched the warblers in the trees a Roe Deer came into view in the field behind the canal.  It looked up at us when it heard the camera.


A little further along there was a buck lying down in the field on the opposite side


Another bank of Willow trees produced more Chiffchaffs and Willow Warblers.  The Willow Warblers were much harder to pin down, but their longer wings and more lemony appearance standing out from the more confiding Chiffchaffs.



We were nearing the end of the canal path now, with little else about other than the commoner warblers, as we walked into the tree lined area once again I noticed an old tree with what looks like an old woodpecker nest hole.  Above the hole though were further holes, and around these were quiet a few Hornets.

The fearsome-looking Hornet may not be a well-loved insect, but it is not as aggressive as Common Wasps and are unlikely to sting if they are left alone

The Hornet lives mostly in woodland, parkland and gardens. Queen Hornets emerge from hibernation in spring and start to build their nests by chewing up wood - these 'paper' nests are often made in hollow trees, or in cavities in buildings.  Above you can see the 'paper' filling the hole in the tree.  Here the Hornets are chewing the bark and wood to produce the paper.


Inside the nest, sterile workers hatch and look after the new young produced by the queen. At the end of summer, reproductive males and queens develop and leave the nest to mate. The males and previous queen die, and the new females hibernate, ready to emerge next spring and start the cycle again.


Inside the nest, sterile workers hatch and look after the new young produced by the queen. At the end of summer, reproductive males and queens develop and leave the nest to mate. The males and previous queen die, and the new females hibernate, ready to emerge next spring and start the cycle again.

As we stood watching the Hornets I noticed another tree behind the Hornet nest with a large hole.  As I did so a Great-spotted Woodpecker appeared in the hole, and came out and perched outside the hole.  It was a surprise to see the woodpecker actually inside the hole at this time of year.  I can only assume it entered in search of food.


On Friday there had been an Ortolan Bunting close by at Widley, I hadn't expected it to be there this morning, overnight there had been clear skies, and these birds are notoriously one day birds.  Ortolan Bunting is like Wryneck used to be for me, I have missed out on them over many attempts, so as I looked at my phone to see the bird reported this morning in the same spot.  I had made my mind up immediately, but I checked with Ian and we both agreed we had to go after it.  This meant turning around and walking back up the canal path.

The light now was completely different, the softness we had experienced first thing in the morning replaced with  much harsher scene.  As we approached the cark a quick check of the split tree did not find the roosting Barn Owl, but at the top of one of the trees lining the canal was a Kestrel.


Looking all around for any opportunity or threat.


It was a short journey through Fareham, over the M27 and up towards the road that runs above Cosham.  It was a beautiful day and as we ran parallel with the coast to the south there were stunning views out across Portsmouth Harbour.


We parked just outside Fort Widley, and then back tracked and down Pigeon House Lane.  It was only a short walk and we soon came across a group of birds standing in a field, all looking across to a pylon in the north east corner, and below that a hawthorn bush covered in berries.  The Ortolan Bunting had been showing but wasn't about at this time.

We set up the scopes and stood patiently alongside the other birders.  There wasn't much discussion, and talking was between small groups and no information was passed on about what was seen and where.  In the bush which seemed to be the centre of focus were two Chiffchaffs and a Whitethroat, and these, along with a Fox walking through the far field were the main interest until a Sparrowhawk appeared, scattering a flock of feral pigeons before it flew past us.



A bunting was picked up distantly on a wire, but turned out to be a Reed Bunting, and it was now that we learned that the Ortolan Bunting hadn't left the field, and that it had dropped down into the long grass and was probably still there and would continue to be there for some time unless it was persuaded to move.

A consensus was then taken, would everyone be happy if we moved a little closer to move the bird back up into its favourite tree.  Both Ian and I were OK, and after a brief review around others it seemed we had the acceptance, although only a few of us actually made the approach.  Rather than walk straight at the tree we skirted around the area, and made our way to the far hedge, and then slowly walked towards the bush so as not to block the views of those who were still back by the fence.  The tactic finally paid off as we managed to flush the bird from the long grass.

Now if it had flown away, and never to be seen again then I would have questioned the validity of what we did, but we had been assured that yesterday the bird was extremely approachable and stayed loyal to the tree, and that is exactly what it did.  It flew to the top of the tree giving cracking views for us, and for those looking through scoped back at the gate.



A first winter bird it lacks the colour found in the adult birds, this one having a brownish grey head, and not the greenish tinge of an adult.  The back is boldly streaked and the tertials have a wide red brown outer edge.  There is a lateral throat stripe, dark against a pale yellow background.  The bill appears to be quite long and tapered, and there is a pale yellow eye ring.


The throat a pale yellow


The name Ortolan comes from an old French word, hortolan, meaning gardener and refers to it feeding behaviour on the ground and a preference for seeds.  A native of most European countries and Asia, it can be found in Scandanavia and beyond the Arctic circle, having a preference for cornfields and similar habitats.  It is an uncommon vagrant in spring but mostly autumn to the British Isles.  This year has seen good numbers turning up in the south.

The bunting then dropped down into the long grass, but returned to the tree almost immediately without any persuasion this time.


It sat preening and pushing at the hawthorn berries with its bill.


I knew that the Ortolan Bunting was considered to be a gourmet's delicacy in France, but was not aware of the fact surrounding this and how they were prepared.  Apparently the bird was so widely eaten in France that as recently as 1999 laws had to be introduced to restrict this practice, but were not widely taken up.  What is horrific though is the way that the bird is first captured and fed, and then secondly prepared for the table.  I will not describe it here, but leave anyone interested to find out.

Our bird continued to sit tight in the bush, enjoying the sun, and watching its admirers.



The Whitethroat that had been also in the tree finally came to the top of the bush.


Then the Ortolan Bunting dropped down into the grass once again, and this timed stayed there.  It was time to make a decision.  We had enjoyed some wonderful views, and at last I had managed to see one.  I had also met my objective set at the start of this year to see at least one lifer in the United Kingdom this year.  We decided to move on, and as we walked back up the lane towards the cars there was a male Wheatear perched on the overhead wires in the middle of one of the fields.


Next stop was Farlington.  Arriving there at midday the sun was very warm and the tide still well out.  There was lots of mud and very few birds about from the car park as lunch was eaten.  Walking through the bushes and the top of the marsh there were plenty of calling Chiffchaffs and a few Blackcaps.  Stopping in front of a stretch of bramble to see if a Blackcap would show, a small orange butterfly flew around.  As it settled I though it might be a Small Tortoiseshell at last but it turned out to be just a Small Copper.  Amazingly I have seen more Small Copper this year that Small Tortoiseshells.


Exploring around an area of anthills didn't produce the wished for Wyrneck, but did find a very confiding Small Heath.


Coming across a pool of water was a surprise, the marsh is very dry, and a lot of the ponds have dried up.  Here though there were at least four Migrant Hawkers patrolling the bulrushes.



Always a challenge to catch them in flight.


Easier when they finally settle.


The route taken around the marsh was clockwise, heading out past the information hut, and then up onto the sea wall.  Coming up on to the wall I heard the cronking call of a Raven once again, and two flew over, this time I was able to get a photograph


There was little going on out on the mud, but I sat for awhile scanning more in hope than anything else.  The high tide was at 4.00 pm, and there were signs it was beginning to rise.  Walking on, a yellow butterfly flew past me, and I knew immediately what it was and gave chase.

In these situations the butterfly, now known as a Clouded Yellow would just keep going, and the chase would be fruitless, but this one was definitely showing signs of wanting to stop, and would do so for the briefest of seconds.  Finally it settled and I was there.


The Clouded Yellow is one of the truly migratory butterflies, and is seen regularly in the UK during movements in spring and autumn.  In some years their numbers can be huge, but mostly you are lucky if you can catch up with one or two.  Today it was warm and with a south westerly which is always helpful at this time of year

It moved on, but settled once again.


We are due some warm weather over the coming days, a  legacy of hurricane Helene that will drag warm southerly winds over the United Kingdom.  I would anticipate this will swell the number of Clouded Yellow sightings and maybe also the other migratory species to reach these shore, the Painted Lady.

The tide was now coming in, and the birds were moving, but it did not seem as high as two weeks ago.  The lake did not have as many birds as then, and by the time I left the tide was probably as high as it would go.  There had been a Little Stint reported but all that was present were Dunlin, along with the numbers of Redshank and Black-tailed Godwits, and a few Grey Plover that were now looking very spotty as they lose their spectacular summer plumage.


Time was now against me so it was time to go home.  All in all a successful day despite the rather quiet afternoon.

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