14th March - Acres Down and Blashford Lakes, The New Forest Hampshire

With a week of the coronavirus situation and worrying headlines splashed across web sites and social media it was nice to have some time just to get away from it all.  The weather though still seems though to be stuck in the rain and storm rut that has accompanied the virus outbreak through the winter adding to our fears and anxiety (what has happened to all those poor people who were standing knee deep in flood water only a few weeks ago?).

I set off just before six to meet Ian at the Acres Down car park at dawn.  In fact we met a little earlier as both vehicles turned off the A31 at the same time.  I had travelled in heavy rain, but on arriving in the car park this had eased and we just had to contend with heavy cloud at dawn.  From the car park we set off on the familiar path with the sound of a drumming Great Spotted Woodpecker coming from the trees on the right hand side of the path.

On reaching the bend in the path at signpost 96 the drumming was louder, we located a dead tree, a suitable drumming post but could only see a Stock Dove on one of the dead branches, it was still quite gloomy and the white overcast background did not help.

Then the woodpecker appeared coming from behind the trunk of the tree to hammer away at an area of a broken branch.

We continued down the path, scanning the tops of the trees, watching the small passerines flying over.  The majority of which were Chaffinches.  Looking up the trees seem to reach out trying to touch each other at the very top.

As we came down the hill towards the dead gnarled tree on the left I noticed a bird fly up from the ditch into the bushes,  a flick of a tail and a flash of yellow revealed a Grey Wagtail, in fact two.  They led us a merry dance around the twisting meanders of Highland Water before I was able to pin the female down in the branches of a fallen tree.  A first for the year.

We spent sometime wandering around the area, taking in the lovely greens of the moss gathered at the base of the tress and the russet browns of the still decaying leaves from the trees and bracken of last year.

Every season bring a different sense of beauty to the forest, right now everything is beginning to wake up after its slumbers of the winter.  This year winter has brought heavy rains and I do not recall seeing Highland Water running with so much force and volume as it was this morning.  As a school boy I was fascinated by the concept of ox bow lakes, never really getting the chance to see one.  In fact it wasn't until my first trip to the United States when I gazed out of an aircraft window as we flew south along the eastern sea board that I first saw one.  Here on Highland water there are several, while other will surely be created.  The lakes or pools are dried up but you can see where they were created.

The photograph doesn't convey the flow and force of the water but does bring out the shape of the tightly wound meander.

All around the trees held sparkling drops of water on their branches and as the sun came out it turned many of the low trees and bushes into a collection of brightly shining jewels.  

This one drop was refracting the trees around it.

Leaving the river we made our way back to the path, a singing Firecrest caught my attention and I managed to catch it in amongst the pine needles.  It was singing as it foraged.

Its movement through the branches prevented any clear and obvious opportunity for photographs and I had to make do with this one.

We then headed along the path towards Millyford Bridge.  The bracken turning a golden brown in the morning sunshine.

A few weeks ago we had a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker here and the hope ws that we could find it again.  On reaching the spot we tried to lure the bird, but only succeeded in Ian finding a pair of Crossbills.

Both were feeding on larch cones at the top of the surrounding larches.  This posed a challenge to the photographs having to compensate for the bright white background and getting through the mass of twigs and branches.  The male though did pose nicely in the open for a few seconds leaving just one challenge that of exposure.

We turned off the main path and headed up along the boggy path through a plantation and towards the bottom of Acres Down.  Just before the path opens out around the bog at the base of the down we came across a pair of Firecrest, the male singing.  Again they were very difficult to pin down moving through the branches and the holly bushes feeding by hovering under the leaves.

So it was the same challenge as the Crossbills, how much to over expose, and can I get to focus on the bird through the branches.  Here was the best outcome.

As we stood in drizzle, that had swept over us unexpectedly, watching the Firecrests a shrill piping call from a large beech tree behind us took our immediate attention, the call was followed by drumming and rather than us find the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker it had found us (or maybe another had).

On locating it in the tree we were faced with what seemed to be the story of the morning, it was high up, against a very white background, and we could pick it out through a tangle of branches.  Needless to say the photographs were a record only.

Here heavily cropped, with raindrops

It was hammering away at something and not drumming in this shot.

Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers have been disappearing in the United Kingdom for years, between 1968 and 1999 the population declined by 60% and much more since then.  This combined with their preference for feeding at the top of high trees makes them extremely difficult to see, this time of year being the best opportunity when they are vocal and there is no foliage to get in the way (just twigs, branches and white sky).

There are numerous possible reasons for the rapid decline, but those most favoured arguments include the loss of ancient woodland habitat, increased competitive pressure from other species, as well as the removal of rotting trees.

There is a distinct difference between males and females, the clearest feature being the crimson-red crown of the male; females, on the other hand, are almost entirely black and white, and feature no colour at all.  Here you can just make out the red crown of a male bird.

The Lesser spotted woodpecker is roughly the same size as a House sparrow while the commoner Great Spotted Woodpecker is roughly the same size as a Blackbird, but with a nasty looking beak!

As quickly as it arrived it was gone, no more calls no drumming.  In previous years we have hard birds conducting a circuit of a potential territory in Mark Ash Wood, it is possible that this bird was doing the same, moving through the high tree tops.  A similar call later had us rushing around the trees but we think the owner of this was probably a Nuthatch.

We decided to walk up the hill through the copse.  On reaching the top we flushed two Woodlark.  The clouds were now breaking up and the sun was out, the rain shower having passed on.  Away to the south east though there were dark clouds lingering giving a very atmospheric scene around the distant trees.

We followed at least four Woodlark around a clump of gorse bushes.  Backed up behind them were birch trees that were holding the rain drops from the recent showers, with the sun catching the drops along with the white barks the bank of trees resembled a sparking silver wall with the yellow of the gorse flowers in front of it.

We had been watching up to four Woodlark in the area, singing from the top of gorse bushes and the Holly bushes.  We followed one to the top of a holly where it sat and sang in the sunshine.

A different view to those we had a few weeks ago.

Finally the Woodlark flew off to join the others and I turned my attention to a Stonechat calling behind me.  I could only find the female on the top of a gorse bush.

We decided to walk around to the view point where several other birders were gathered.  They pointed out a distant white spec, that through a 'scope could be seen to be a Goshawk (we had left the scopes in the car as the primary target this morning was LSW and that required a good walk)

We stood and scanned as you always do here and managed to see the distinctive shape and flight of at least four Goshawks, albeit very distant, a single Sparrowhawk and a Buzzard.  Behind us the Woodlark continued to fly around singing and a pair of Stonechat advanced close to us before realising we were there.  This time the male showed really well.

The Goshawks seen we decided to head back to the car park, this time taking the high road through the copse of Silver Birch trees.  At the top of the trees were a flock of about 20 Lesser Redpolls, yet another photographic challenge.

Hanging upside down they were ripping the buds apart, bits falling from the trees as they did so.  Following them was difficult as they twisted and danced in the tree tops then flew to another area.

In most they appeared as silhouettes in the branches.

With the help of the camera though it was possible to see the pink forehead and flush on the breast.

Coming out of the copse we could make out the line of pines where the Goshawk was seen perched in the tree earlier.  Scanning the ridge I was able to pick it out once again, still very dsitant but probably a little closer now.

Using the map we tried to determine where the tree was. it looked like it was along the main path, so we decided to give it a go and see if we could locate it.  Which as you can imagine was impossible.  We thought we had an idea of the area but the trees and the height just didn't seem right.  In the end we had to make do with a very feisty Nuthatch calling in the trees close to the main path.

They are one of those little birds that is completely photogenic, mainly due to the positions they can adopt as they make their way along the branches.

The afternoon was to be spent at Blashford Lakes, a chance for Ian to visit the new Tern hide, both of us having delayed this treat for quite sometime.  Our first stop though was to be the Woodland Hide.  As we reached the turn the very familiar call of a Mediterranean Gull came from overhead.  Looking up there were two adults circling the Silt Pond.  In the hide it was all about securing a seat by the only opening window, the feeders were busy with the birds I had seen a few weeks ago.  As a result I was reluctant to start firing away to start with.  But then a little Bank Vole appeared in the vegetation below us and I couldn't resist it.

The key difference between a mouse and a vole is all about the head, the mouse has large eyes and ears and a pointed snout, while the vole has small eyes and ears and a rounded snout.  The tail of the mouse is also very long compared to that of the vole.  There are four species of Vole in the UK, Bank, Field and Water, with the fourth found only on Orkney, the Orkney Vole.  The Bank and Field voles have a life expectancy of between three and nine months while the Water Vole can live up to eighteen months.

The Bank Vole would appear every so often foraging for fallen seed and chewing on the odd plant stem.  Finally though I succumbed to the birds visiting the feeder, as always avoiding them on the feeder itself.

There were plenty of Goldfinches, they would argue and squabble amongst each other on the feeder but very well behaved in the branches.

The most numerous were the Chaffinches and last time I missed out on the Siskin, but today there were up to 5 around both sets of feeders.

A Great Tit looking very smart.

The Dunnock do not use the feeders, but forage on the ground beneath, they are also very flirtatious at this time of year and they can be seen chasing each other, and maybe more through the bushes and branches flicking their wings in display.  We rarely see photographs of them, but on close inspection they are a lot more than just a "little brown job".

We were waiting for one particular bird but were pleased when a smart male Reed Bunting turned up.

We had seen several earlier but as the photographs showed it was difficult to appreciate their beauty high in the top of a Silver Birch tree.  A Lesser Redpoll had been visiting the feeders here on a regular basis for the last few days.  We had waited patiently and then finally it appeared on the feeder and then flew to the bushes.  At first high up again and against the white sky.

But then it came down and closer and we could appreciate the lovely pink red blush on the breast and the bright cap on the head.

With the Redpoll gone we decided to walk on, heading towards the Ivy Lake South hide.  On the silt pond to the left of the path was a male Tufted Duck.  The water was very dark with interesting reflections.  It was like a moth to a flame to quote a close friend of mine.

From the hide there were good numbers of Wigeon present, but no sign of any Kingfisher, although we did think we heard one as we left.  The Wigeon though did come close to the hide.

Ian then had his first experience of the Tern Hide.  Once again everything was very distant and we couldn't find the reported first winter male Long-tailed Duck.  We walked around to the Lapwing Hide with the first singing Chiffchaff of the year by the gate and another as we followed the trail around to the hide.  There were many Pintail both on the water and lining the banks.  The water levels were so high the wooden platforms usually visible in front of the hide were completely submerged.

As well as the Pintail there were Wigeon, Teal, Shoveler, Gadwall, Tufted Duck and Pochard.  In addition their were four pairs of Goosander, the males looking splendid in their full plumage, but remained too distant for any decent photographs.

I finally managed to locate the Long-tailed Duck on the north bank of the lake.  It was diving with Tufted Duck.  We searched for the Black-necked Grebe but without any luck.  In fact there was very few Grebes at all, a few Great-crested and a pair of Little Grebe swimming back and forth in front of the hide.

Just before we left I was taken by the fallen trees and a pair of Pintail sleeping just out of the water.

It hasn't been a bad day, we managed to get several year ticks, those that you would expect to pick up at this time of year.  The light was poor for photography as it seems to have been all winter.  I can only recall one Saturday where we had still and sunny conditions.  With the world in the state its currently in I wonder when my next post will be.

29th February - Hayling Island, Hampshire

I can't recall birding on the 29th February before, or at least writing about it. February 29 is a date that occurs every four years and is known as a leap day. Leap days keep our modern-day Gregorian calendar in alignment with Earth's revolutions around the Sun. It takes Earth approximately 365.242189 days, or 365 days, 5 hours, 48 minutes, and 45 seconds, to circle once around the Sun. This is called a tropical year, and it starts on the March equinox.

However, the Gregorian calendar has only 365 days in a year. If we didn't add a leap day on February 29 almost every four years, each calendar year would begin about 6 hours before the Earth completes its revolution around the Sun.

As a result, our time reckoning would slowly drift apart from the tropical year and get increasingly out of sync with the seasons. With a deviation of approximately 6 hours per year, the seasons would shift by about 24 calendar days within 100 years. Allow this to happen for a while, and Northern Hemisphere dwellers will be celebrating Christmas in the middle of summer in a matter of a few centuries.  Leap days fix that error by giving Earth the additional time it needs to complete a full circle around the Sun.

Leap years in the western calendar were first introduced over 2000 years ago by Roman general Julius Caesar. The Julian calendar, which was named after him, had only one rule: any year evenly divisible by four would be a leap year.

This formula produced too many leap years, causing the Julian calendar to drift apart from the tropical year at a rate of 1 day per 128 years. This was not corrected until the introduction of the Gregorian calendar more than 1500 years later, when a number of days were skipped to realign our calendar with the seasons.

The term leap year probably comes from the fact that a fixed date in the Gregorian calendar normally advances one day of the week from one year to the next, but the day of the week in the 12 months following the leap day (from March 1 through February 28 of the following year) will advance two days due to the extra day, thus leaping over one day in the week.

So enough about dates what about the birding?  Well come another weekend come another storm, this time a Spanish one called Jorge.  Friday had been wet and overnight the rain had continued.  As I got in my car at around 7.00 am it was still raining quite hard but by the time I arrived at the sea wall at Hill Head it was easing and only drizzle.  

If the title of this post is Hayling Island then what was I doing at Hill Head?  Well Ian and I had agree to meet there and from there decide what would be the course of action depending on what the weather did.  The tide was out and there was very little moving on the sea.  A single Shag was the highlight a long with a Great Crested Grebe that flew over our heads and a large flock of Turnstone with a single Dunlin.  Over the reserve we watched two Marsh Harriers drop down in the middle of the reed bed, a possible nesting site.

There were signs that the weather would improve and we decided that we would head east to Hayling Island, although I was doubting the wiseness of this as we negotiated the M27 in heavy squally rain.  Our first stop was to be Sandy point at the south eastern point of the island.  The rain now had moved quickly away and we were bathed in sunshine with blue skies and fluffy white clouds. However, stepping out of the shelter of the surrounding houses on to the beach path we were hit by a very forceful south westerly wind, something that had not been present with such force at Hill Head.  The sea was boiling and breakers were smashing into the rocks while Black headed Gulls zipped past us overhead.

Fortunately the wind was behind us as we walked around to the area of the Lifeboat station, here there was some shelter and we were able to put up the telescopes and scan the entrance to Chichester Harbour.  Close to the beach on our side the water was relatively calm in the lee of the trees and building, but mid channel the current was very strong and there was a considerable amount of surf.  Cormorants fished on the edge of the waves.  These though were not what we were here for.  In the week several Great Northern Divers had been reported and we were hoping to find them.  The entrance to the harbour is relatively narrow this would bring them close to us, by close I mean not a speck in the distance that we seem to have when we see Great Northern Divers in Hampshire (as I write I can look at the photograph on my calendar of one seen in Iceland last year!).

Finally Ian picked one up, quickly followed by another.  They were diving in the surf and we headed down the beach to get (relatively) closer.

They were frequently diving making it hard at first to pick them up.

These are the closest I can recall, but they were still a fair distance away and showed no sign of moving into the calmer water closer to the beach.

A Sandwich Tern flew past heading into the harbour.  We stayed on the divers which by now we reckoned were numbering four.  With the rolling surf it was difficult to get a full view of the bird to photograph.  In working through them at home there were lots of glimpses of heads behind the waves or just empty sea!

Finally one reached up and wing flapped.

we found that if one of the divers was staring to preen then there was every chance at some stage it would wing flap and this proved the best opportunity to see more of the bird.

Every so often I would pick up on a Cormorant and with the white in the head you could easily think it could have been another diver as they quickly dived in the surf.

A large and powerful species, historic evidence suggests that the Great Northern Divers have been around for at least 20,000,000 years, making them the oldest and most primitive example of a bird alive today.  In non-breeding plumage it invites confusion with the similar Black-throated Diver, but lacks the sophisticated appearance of the Black-throated, often appearing relatively scruffy in comparison.  

Structurally, the head is large, with a steep forehead and flat crown. The bill is heavy, and, like Black-throated, held horizontally.

The nape is darker than the back although in the light we were faced with this was not prominent.  there is a contrast between the dark head and neck and at the base of the neck there is a diagnostic dark half-collar, above which is a pale notch. 

An interesting fact is that unlike most birds, Great Northern Divers have a number of solid bones (as opposed to hollow) that add weight to help them dive. However this makes it harder for them to take off, meaning that they have to use a “runway” approach of flapping and skimming along the water for a bit before they can manage to get into the air.

In North America the Great Northern Diver is known as the Common Loon, with the other diver species all taking the name loon instead of Diver.  The name “Loon” has an interesting origin – it comes from Scandinavian words for “lame” like the Swedish lam and it describes how the bird’s large webbed feet, placed at the rear of its body, make it less than graceful on land.

Together we considered that there were four birds present but a report later, from birder's who had been present when we were there, were of five birds.  The divers drifted further into the harbour moving from opposite the lifeboat station to around the sailing club and we decided to walk along the beach.  

Looking behind me I was taken by the posts lined along the beach.  With the sun bright from the south the scene looks liker a black and white picture but no colour has been taken out.

While we were bathed in sunshine away to the north there were dark clouds and a faint rainbow appeared.

Overhead a pair of Sandwich Terns flew past and accelerated as they used the wind to their advantage.

As we came around the end of the point we were exposed to the wind once again.  Not only did we have to deal with the buffeting wind, but it was picking up the sand and this was being driven into our faces.  By moving inland we were able to avoid some of this.  We made our way into the bay on the western side of the sailing club.  There were Brent geese along the channel and a few Redshank.  I stupidly left my scope standing up and the wind blew it down and I had to deal with sand all over the eye piece.

While all this was going on a single Curlew stood motionless in the wind on the mud on the other side of the creek.

We made our way back to the shelter of the lifeboat station.  Out in the channel the water was now really rough.  A combination of the strong wind and the high tide rushing into the harbour was creating some crashing surf in the middle of the channel.

There were now three Sandwich Terns flying around the surf.  

One pair were diving into the water at the edge of the rushing surf.

We could only find two of the divers now but they were very distant compared with earlier.  It was time to move on but as we came around the corner back into the wind the waves were crashing into the large revetment rocks present on the beach.  Black-headed gulls were scouring the surf in search of anything that would resemble food being thrown up by the waves.

They would fly into the wind, and using the wind to hover check the water below, swooping down to pluck anything from the water with supreme dexterity considering the force of the wind.

In many cases the "item" would be discarded.  At one point I saw a red item, probably a plastic bottle top, picked up and promptly dropped.

Once past the crashing waves they would circle back around and do it all over again.  They would stay close together and if one dropped so would the other and a squabble would take place to see who could get the item on offer.

The Black-headed Gulls are now in partial summer plumage, some already sporting the brown hood while others are still catching up.

Off shore a group of 25 Eider could be seen battling into the wind heading west.

A small herd of Highland Cattle on the reserve were feeding close to the fence, they did not seem too bother with the temperature, although the wind was blowing their hair in their eyes.

After lunch we headed back north stopping off at the Oyster Beds.  A combination of the tide and a very strong south westerly wind had produced a very high tide, most of the islands that are visible at high tide were now covered.  Walking along the Hayling Billy path there was a large flock of Black-headed Gulls in the field along side the path, and the re was at least two Mediterranean Gulls with them, but it was very hard in the wind to keep the bins steady.

Wigeon, Pintail and Brent Geese were using what little there was of the islands to shelter from the wind.

We battled our way around the oyster beds, Oystercatchers and Curlew could be seen hugging what little there was of the banks and a few Dunlin were also visible.  We came in hope of seeing Black-necked Grebe, but with the waves and high swell it would be almost impossible to pick them out.  Our hope was that they would be sensible and come into the relative shelter of the beds.  However as we came around the corner all we could see in the lagoon was a single male Red-breasted Merganser.

As you can see the water was still very rough in the lagoon.

A female appeared alongside the male, while a Mediterranean Gull sporting a full black hood dropped in to the middle of the lagoon.

Away to the west the skies looked very threatening, the really dark clouds looked like they would miss us but there were showers falling that we had to consider a threat.  There is very little cover here, the only thing available is an old bus shelter.  Goodness knows why it is there but it did offer some shelter and a place to get out of the wind.

The showers passed us by but the wind hadn't relented.  A few more Mediterranean Gulls were gathering, some could be seen on the islands and one or two were settling on the water.  The Hayling Oyster beds is a known gathering site for Mediterranean Gulls at this time of year.  They gather in large numbers ahead of the breeding season before dispersing along the south coast.  We were probably a little early in the year as at its peak there can be anything up to 300 of these lovely gulls present.  Today the gathering seemed to only just be starting.

With the rain passed the sun returned and turned the waters of the lagoon avery deep blue.  The adult Mediterranean gull with its pure white plumage and dark black hood contrasted well.

The adult Mediterranean Gull is a very smart gull, a snow ball in the sky, otherwise broken up by the rich black hood and striking red bill. the all white plumage stunning at this time of year.

We had decided to make our way back to the cars and to search for some quieter and sheltered spots, that, we thought is what any good Black-necked Grebe would surely so.  However our walk back to the car park was interrupted by the male Red-breasted Merganser that was close to the bank of the lagoon.  

This time it was diving, but before doing so it would "snorkel" in the water, by this I mean push it's head under to have a good look around.

Red-breasted Mergansers are members of the Genus Mergus, the typical Mergansers.  The latin word was used by the Romans to refer to an unspecified waterbird.  The full latin name for the Red-breasted Merganser is Mergus Serrator, and of the four family members of the genus is the only one found commonly at sea.  The reference to serrator is due to the fact that these duck are also known as Sawbills due to the serrated edge of the bill used to catch and hold fish.  Here in this shot you can see the serrated edge to the bill.

As we reached the main path we disturbed a pair of Wigeon sheltering in the corner.

We decided on going to Northney Marina, here we believed the water would be a little calmer and we hoped there would be more birds sheltering.  When we arrived the water was still as choppy as it had been at the Oyster Beds and there was very little out on the water save for a couple of pairs of Red-breasted Mergansers and Black-headed Gulls.

Out towards the village of Warblington a large flock of Brent Geese took to the air.

It was mid afternoon, and with very little about I was debating whether we should call it a day.  However we decided to explore a little and walked along the wall that separates the marina from the open water.  A male Red-breasted Merganser was seen in amongst the yachts and in the calm water, a good sign?

At the entrance to the marina there was a bench so we decided to sit down.  In the marina were more mergansers, a gathering of Black-headed Gulls, Wigeon and a pair of Teal.  We sat and chatted and then suddenly things started to happen.  A Great Black-backed Gull flew towards us and into the marina, whether to join the gull roost or just on expectation we will never know.

Then right in front of us a Great-crested Grebe appeared.

Still in winter plumage this could be one of last year's birds.

It dived and we hoped it would come closer.  It stayed under for what seemed an age and then appeared in the marina, an amazing distance travelled under water.

we could see groups of waders wheeling around beyond the wall of the marina, these looked like Grey Plover and Knot.  There were also a lot of Turnstone and a break away group flew on to the rocks on the other side of the marina entrance along with a single Grey Plover.

A single Brent Goose gradually swam up to us, pushing at the sea weed as it came.

Then we started to hear the distinctive yeeooow calls of the Mediterranean Gulls and they started to appear above us and coming across the water from the direction of Warblington.

A beautiful sight the pure white plumage against the blue of the afternoon sky.  I mentioned earlier that they were just starting to gather here and the condition of the hoods was a good indicator of this.  Some with the all black hood while others still having flecks of the white non breeding plumage in place.

There must have been close to 200 Mediterranean gull pass us and gather in the roost in the marina.  They came from all directions illustrating how much they are spread out and that just now they are still not ready for the pairing that takes place when they all gather around the oyster beds.

It wasn't just the Med Gulls though there were also Common Gulls moving in.

Away from the Kittiwake its a close run thing between the Common Gull and Med Gull for my favourite.  I love the dove like head of the Common Gull, very similar to that of the Kittiwake, they also appear less aggressive although they are always up for a fight as one of the Red-breasted Mergansers found later in the afternoon

Then there were the larger gulls, we have already had the Great Black-backed so it was nice to find a Lesser Black-backed cruise in, the back a little lighter than its larger cousin, and the feet a striking yellow.

And finally a Herring Gull

There we had the six commonest Gulls in the United Kingdom.

But we were not finished a pair of Red-breasted Mergansers did exactly what we hoped for, flew towards us and landed in the water just below us.

The female turned around and swam out into the open water.  The classic redhead lacking the subtle colours of the male

The male started off heading into the marina but on realising the female was off turned around and headed out into the open water to join her.  The light was almost perfect, the only challenge being the exposure as the water was quite dark.

The male dived and emerged close to us.  On one occasion it came up with a fish and was immediately attacked by a Common Gull, the merganser taking evasive action by diving and what we can only assume was swallowing the prize underwater.

Once the gull realised there was no food available it left the merganser alone and we were able to enjoy the duck in the lovely light.

Some scratching and preening led to some wing flaps, always good for the camera.

Gradually it drifted away with the female.

The wind was still relentless, and with the time moving on we decided it was time to call it a day.  We commented on how we had about two hours ago almost given the afternoon up, but just by sitting and watching we had been treated to some lovely photograph opportunities.  A day in strange and challenging weather had not turned out too badly.  Some great shots, the experience of some wild weather and two year ticks wasn't too bad for a first day's birding on a Leap Day.  I wonder what opportunities there will be on the next Leap Year on Thursday 29th February 2024?