Come hell or high water, birding must go on.

Tuesday 10th January

Oh the xxxxxxx traffic. There I am sitting in several long queues of traffic, driving to meet Chris at Eakring, a little village on the north side of Nottingham. I can’t use my mobile, I can’t see the front of the queue, but I can see the clock telling me that my meeting time of 8.30am is getting further into the distant past.

Chris? She can’t get a reply to her mobile as one, or both of us, cannot get a good signal, and she does not know if she is waiting in the right place. No back up plan, just an increase in my blood pressure.

Anyway, as it happens, as I finally reach Eakring, turning left by the PH as directed, I spot Chris’s blue car coming up the hill towards me, so we drive 200 yards in convoy to the agreed rendezvous.  We exchange mutual frustrations, I ceremonially give her her award for joining the 200 club in 2016 (an award previously publicly announced on my blog), boots are put on and we are off to find a very satisfactory addition to this year’s list, a handsome male Garganey. 

Good that this bird appears to be a fixture, as I have seen him in the small reeded pond for three years. (Bit like the Ruddy Duck at ?????? and the Slavonian Grebe near Dawlish – if it stays/alive/survives, I’ll count them!).

Nothing else to stay for, but we were pleased to identify the “Flap, flap, flap, glide” jizz of a passing Sparrowhawk. 

Popped into Rufford (9.45am) in the forlorn hope of seeing a Marsh Tit or Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, but not this year. Birders did tell us there were 5 Hawfinches in the trees round the car park at about 8.30, but having seen them at Cromford last week, it was not too frustrating.   

On to Old Moor, and in fact Broomhill Flash first, and although I left Rufford first, Chris somehow arrived at Broomhill first. Need to check her route (or speedometer).

I had cause to curse the hide builder at Broomhill, because, as I was trying to open a window catch, it was VERY stiff and nipped a chunk out of little pinkie about the size of a 2-carat diamond. And it still hurts (even on Monday 16^th!)

Old Moor lunch was good, as always, following which we had a look at the hides. Added Mistle Thrush and Buzzard, and Chris and I had a very lengthy debate as to whether a Snipe that was bobbing up and down, was a Jack Snipe or not. Compared with 3 Snipe nearby we (supported by another birder in the Wath Ings hide) had to reluctantly accept that it was not a Jack. One for another day.

Thursday 12^th January. 

I don’t like all the bits of news about bird flu.. it does seem that incidents have been reported in a wide range of locations.

Anyway, with my YTD figure on 75, Chris, John and I are going to the Titchwell and Hunstanton area at the weekend, and joining a group led by Chris Mills of Norfolk Birding, for a hide tide wader watch on Sunday. As I write this (on Thurs) I’m sort of wondering whether it is all going to happen. 

The army is at Snettisham telling people to vacate their beach homes, at Skeggy warning people about floods, and whilst I know our Hunstanton hotel on Saturday night is well up from sea level, thoughts do turn to what to wear on our coastal walk. Welly Boots look like being sensible alternative footwear. Keep watching this space.

Friday 13^th January…… Yes FRIDAY 13^th!

Disheartening prospects for Sunday, but our Hunstanton hotel and RSPB Titchwell give encouraging responses to my calls. It’s the sandbags at Skeggy (you can see Skeggy on a clear day from Hunstanton… well come to that, you can see the Hunstanton cliffs from Skeggy, on a good day) which bothers me. Probably better not to watch the news!!

FAB-U-LOUS, the only word for the forthcoming Norfolk weekend, so good that I will cover it in full, but not until next week. It will be worth reading. (Ed: He hopes!)