Nature Notes from Pete Lambert March 2012

I had accepted an invitation to speak at a double assembly at our village school and was intimidated by the prospect. They had been running a packed fortnight of activity that included making feeders and investigating their local wildlife. Concerned that my interest in wildlife would be met with glum indifference and boredom I set up my slides. I needn’t have worried as they threw up eager hands to tell of birdy encounters in their garden, ask bright and direct questions and a surprising number had had close encounters with barn owls. Inspired by their enthusiasm I reflected that the future was not as bleak as so many paint what with these young wildlife champions on the way.

At the Felton Butler slip road at the southern end of the Nesscliffe bypass a field with winter greens played host to a 200 plus strong flock of lapwing, and on today’s journey north a similar field had just said goodbye to an airborne mass of this crested wader.

The UK picture is not good for lapwing, though the local farming community are doing their best to accommodate the wet grassland preferences of this popular wild bird, re-wetting fields were possible and crop regimes adjusted carefully to generate the clumpy damp sward preferred by the ‘peewit’. Recent walks along wide field margins, left to encourage wildlife corridors in even our most intensely farmed landscapes, revealed other beneficiaries. A discarded sheet of broken hardboard when deftly flipped over exposed a common shrew, the thick feggy grass close by was riddled with bank vole tunnels.  As the winter lingers the mixed flocks of fieldfare and redwing are still to be found, mainly raiding the last fruits of the hedgerow and occasionally into the garden for an apple treat.

Driving down into the hollow our headlights were reflected back by what we took to be cats eyes, but these moved and rapidly too, turning tail and back into the hedge. It was a polecat, in its winter coat, which tends to be much denser than its slim summer incarnation so it looks lighter in colour and rounder. 

Once known as the foul-mart because of its strong smell, this wily predator had faced near extinction. The pelt or ‘fitch’ was prized and it was felt the animal was considered a threat to game and livestock. Slowly as persecution by trapping has declined this nocturnal carnivore has expanded back out of its Welsh heartland to cross the border back into England. Polecats occupy family territories which they mark using stink glands located at the base of the tail, this noxious spray is also used defensively, urgh! The polecat has a distinctive Zorro-like face mask and white ears, its near relatives the polecat-ferrets and the ferret proper lack such a distinctive look. Occasionally they hunt during the day but our late evening sighting is the more likely viewing.

Only my second sighting in a lifetime, the leafless scrubby woods allowed a wonderful look at the leaping and fleeting display of the woodcock as it made its spectacular aerial escape.

The woodcock is a wading bird that has taken to the woods, the Llynclys area seeming to be a favourite haunt. Its long narrow bill is used to probe the ground for worms and other food, the high set eyes giving it near 360 degree vision.  The woodcock is able to grasp its young brood during the breeding season and airlift them to safety, either clutched in its claws or between her thighs. A spooky beating of its territorial bounds through March to July is known as ‘roding’, this slow flight accompanied by frog like croaking and high pitched whistling. As the winter shows signs of its inevitable end I hope to return here to experience for myself the Roding of this enigmatic and remarkable British bird. Spring is coming, stay alert it waits for no man, so much to look out for!

Happy wildlife spotting, 

fond regards,

Pete Lambert.

Nature Notes - February 2012 by Pete Lambert

Just when I thought the winter was about to pass by in a gust of wet winds and swirling damp fog I awoke to find the garden decorated with a fine filigree of ice.  A week ago we had sat in a bird hide sheltering from the drizzly attentions of the low cloud that had lain duvet like across the Pumlumon mountains. The object of our vigil,  the Red Kite , or we hoped hundreds of kites as optimistically promised in the leaflet!  Nant  yr Arian is a Forestry Commission centre, an innovative building hosts a cheap, clean café and is the starting point for trails designed to please walker or off road cyclist. Each day throughout the year one of the Ranger team puts out raw meat scraps to attract the iconic Red kites to feed and enjoyed as they land and soar up and away once full.

The red kite represents the most successful reintroduction programme in the world. The UK population had been reduced to just two pairs by the late 1800’s, hiding out in remote mid Wales valleys and therefore making them extinct in England and Scotland. Last century captive breeding programmes were able to provide kites for planned release in Mid Wales  amongst other locations. The Red kite though well known as a scavenger from Samuel Pepys description of the birds cleaning the filth ridden streets of Restoration London of offal and other detritus, also hunt rabbits and other prey.  The bird soars buoyantly, its head and tail hang down slightly in flight and the characteristic forked tail constantly twists to help it maintain position. After 45 minutes of waiting since the bait had been cast and 5 tantalising glimpses of the kites wheeling away without landing just visible in the thick gloop of cloud, my young companions tummy began to rumble and we left the hide. Stopping occasionally to look back just in case the kites had  noticed we had gone and swooped down in a russet swarm to gulp down the morsels, but no, and satisfied with the ghostly glimpses we both agreed to come back on a brighter day.

With the trees completely shorn of leaves identification is down to the subtleties of bud, bark, form , size and location. One little tree that gives itself away quite easily in the winter is the Crab apple.  Piled at the foot of most Crab apples during the colder months we can find the yellow, hard fruits. Bitter and sour  to the taste but they  can be turned into the most grown up jelly for breakfast toast. The Crabapple’s  scientific name is Malus sylvestris which means ‘apple of the woods’ and this small tree which grows rarely above 10m can be found in oakwoods and along hedge lines.  The Crab is the rootstock from which all our orchard varieties are derived, the leaves of the domestic apple are usually wooly or hairy backed whereas the petioles or leaf stalks are hairy on the crabapple.  My favourite Crab can be found on the flanks of Caer Caradoc, near Church Stretton, and in May a walk there will be rewarded by a profusion of white blossom. Closer to hand there are a few on the A5 and many in amongst the jumbled woodlands of Llanmynech and closer still the homebound hedged lanes play host as well.

The Small tortoishell butterfly upstairs battered against the window, whilst the Small tortoishell downstairs created a subtle lightshow by flying around inside the lightshade. These hibernating adults had risen too soon, the nettles have not begun growing again and sadly I think the gently lengthening days and our central heating had summoned these sleepers prematurely. Snowdrops have been noted and the radio had spoken of the first daffodils being sighted. Hard times are still to come though and the loping fox on Grimpo Lane spied earlier this week will be working hard to find food to keep him going. But for nature watchers this is the time of year to look out for those coming signs of Spring, so happy wildlife watching, fond regards, Pete Lambert.

Nature Notes - January 2012, by Pete Lambert

The road conditions have been dreadful and my journey slowed a number of times by broken taillights and emergency vehicles.  The buzzard was unperturbed by the craning drivers as she pecked away at the road traffic victim, standing erect between tugging bites of her curved beak, talons pulling down on the lifeless body. The vixen or dog fox had probably perished the night before and become sustenance to a sharp eyed gourmand. Buzzards are usually seen circling lazily on high or perching on a lamp post, telegraph pole or handy tree look-out.  The buzzard has soaring wings, long, broad and deeply cambered for maximum lift. The deeply slotted ‘fingers’ at the wing tips smooth out turbulence and the full tail gives manoeuvrability, stability and lift. A glide can take an individual birds speed up to 70 or 80 mile per hour and combined with excellent eyesight makes the buzzard a very successful predator. In fact a buzzard can discern detail eight times more sharply than a human. The fovea, which is a part of the retina, has one million cells compared to only 200,000 in man. Occasionally other birds will mob a lone buzzard, on most occasions the bigger bird will fly on unhurriedly to out distance its tormentors but sometimes it will flip over to meet its enemies with its powerful talons. My reflections came to an end as finally the traffic moved again and she slipped out of view.

An early Sunday ramble took me around Llanmynech and the little fields and paddocks of Llynclys Common. The incredibly varied habitats make for a constantly changing scene as I felt the weakened daylight try its best to lift the gloom and possibly the temperature. I followed a narrow path up between a wire fence and straggly hedge, not being in a hurry I paused to take in the sudden cacophonous pinging around me and found myself surrounded by Long tailed tits. The small pink tinged body a counterweight to the characteristic extended and slender tail. As we know they form up into mixed flocks with other tits, but invariably the long tailed tits will feed at the highest level of the group. But today hidden, well nearly, was an even tinier delight. Europe’s smallest bird is the Goldcrest, a lively, fearless and very handsome bird and there but two feet away was a gorgeous example. The crest is a deep orange bordered both sides by successive stripes of yellow and finally black. During courtship the crest spreads and rises, male behaviour can be very aggressive and fights to the death have been known between rival males. The Goldcrest favours conifers, slinging its intricate nest by ‘basket handles high in the evergreen crown. Harsh winters can depress numbers of this little bird very drastically but they have so far always managed to return.

The bare armature of the woodlands in the winter make a bird watch walk so much more rewarding than a stroll in the cloaked woods of late summer. My final treat of the day came in an unfamiliar part of the patch, a mixed gaggle of birds fled into the upper limbs but a group of three downward pointing Nuthatches hung around to give me a grand view of their sleek profile. The Nuthatch can be a regular at the bird table and invariably will climb down a tree seeking food in bark crevices. The bird enjoys working out on a hazel nut or beech mast, jamming the tough outer into a split in a tree and hammering away with its ‘hatchet’ like bill. I like the smart colouring of field grey, keen black eye stripe and soft buff-hued belly, and today three of these distinctive woodland specialists.

The winter may be keen to drag its heels but while it lasts I am enjoying my clear views of our great British birds. Wrap up warm and venture out, walk off the festive excess and who knows what might be seen?

Happy wildlife spotting , Pete Lambert.

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