The First Swallow

On Friday it was my birthday and I had the unexpected present of my first Barn Swallow Hirundo rustica of the year. I had the day off and decided to drop in at Wilstone Reservoir despite the pouring rain, in the hope of seeing a Scandinavian Rock Pipit Anthus petrosus littoralis that had been found earlier that morning. Two Chiffchaffs were cheerfully singing, a few Sand Martins were sallying high over the water and then all of a sudden there it was, a lone Swallow, hugging the surface, feeding busily. This was the earliest Swallow I can remember seeing by several days and a heartening sight, bringing with it the faint promise of summer. Frustratingly, the Rock Pipit was constantly flushed by a group of noisy ramblers and proved hard to see, so I visited the reservoir again in the evening and was lucky to have some excellent views as it fed quietly in the evening sun amongst the rocks by the jetty. The Swallow had already moved on, it's visit brief but welcome.

Barn Swallows in Autumn, (21/08/2010)

Spring

The first Swallow may not make a summer but the first Sand Martin means spring is here as far as I am concerned. I always wait with mounting excitement for the first spring migrants and today turned out to be a red letter day with the welcome sight of 6 Sand Martins busily feeding over the water at Wilstone Reservoir and a handsome male Wheatear along with a pair of Stonechats on the southern slope of Ivinghoe Beacon.

All this, and I saw my first Brimstone of the year, racing along a hedgerow in the warm morning sunshine. The fields are full of tiny tottering Lambs, Sweet Violet and Celandine are brightening the budding woods and everywhere Daffodils are exploding into flower. There's no doubt about it - spring is here!

Lamb on Ivinghoe Beacon (13/03/2011)

Ashridge Forest

Around this time of year I always spend a few mornings wandering around Ashridge Forest, in what sadly, seems to be an increasingly futile search for a Lesser-spotted Woodpecker. Ashridge used to be an excellent site for these increasingly elusive birds, but has become more and more unreliable over the last few years. Despite failing to find any Lesser-spots it is wonderful to be out in the forest on a cold bright morning with the low sun cutting through the Beech trees in thick smoky shafts. The woods echo to the drumming of Greater-spotted Woodpeckers and the songs of Nuthatches and Treecreepers. Stock Doves moan from the high branches and float lazily between the tree-tops, while nervous chattering flocks of Lesser Redpoll bounce busily through the Silver Birches. Fallow Deer relax in the golden light, soaking up what warmth they can glean from the cold sun, enjoying the peace and quiet before the joggers and dog-walkers arrive. Then it's time to leave, before the sounds of the forest are drowned out by the racket of dogs and their owners.

Early morning sun in Ashridge Forest (21/03/2011)

Brimstone

The weather was so mild and spring-like last week that I half expected to see my first Brimstone Gonepteryx rhamni restlessly wandering the hedgerows. I was so excited to see my first butterfly of the year that I found myself almost willing one into existence, but in the end was disappointed and it was Indra, my wife, who spotted one fluttering along a roadside verge on the 24th of February, as she was driving home from Surrey. Meanwhile I spent the day loitering in a street in Chipping Norton trying to get a decent view of the hopelessly lost Oriental Turtle Dove that has settled in the town and caused such a sensation in the national press. Not my idea of a great birding day out but at least I saw the bird! I have been doing a bit of shameless twitching recently, having also spent a rainy day in picturesque Rainham in order to see the Slaty-backed Gull, a new bird for me. Birding really does take you to the most exotic locations!

Brimstones are always a welcome sight in the spring sunshine and seem to herald the start of the Butterfly season. Brimstones are one of the longest lived butterflies, living for up to thirteen months, although much of this time is spent in hibernation. Adults emerge on warm spring days and busily nectar on yellow flowers such as Cowslip, Primrose and Daffodils. Mating takes place in early spring, after which some individuals can live until July when the next generation appears. It is commonly believed that the Brimstone is the origin of the word "butterfly", a corruption of butter-coloured fly. Brimstones can be frustrating butterflies to photograph as they never sit with their wings open and are always on the move, rarely settling to nectar for long.

Sadly a nagging northeasterly wind has brought with it cold and wet weather, so I doubt I'll see a Brimstone for a while, although I won't stop hoping!

Male Brimstone Gonepteryx rhamni, (21/09/2008)

Red-crested Pochard

A couple of weeks ago while I was wandering past Marsworth Reservoir I noticed a pair of Red-crested Pochard Netta Ruffia. The male was swimming alongside the female and energetically displaying by stretching it's head back and flicking it's bill upwards. These attractive ducks prefer to nest in lakeside vegetation, so Marsworth, which is fringed by extensive Reedbeds is ideal. Unfortunately the water is full of predatory fish and the area is also plagued by Mink, so keeping a family of downy young safe is virtually impossible.

Here are some photos taken last May and then again a month later showing the last remaining duckling from the original brood of nine.

Let's hope that they have better success this year!

Female Red-crested Pochard and duckling (Marsworth Reservoir, 14/05/2010)

Red-crested Pochard duckling (Marsworth Reservoir, 14/05/2010)

Female Red-crested Pochard and juvenile (Marsworth Reservoir, 09/06/2010)

Juvenile Red-crested Pochard (Marsworth Reservoir, 09/06/2010)

Juvenile Red-crested Pochard (Marsworth Reservoir, 09/06/2010)

Winter Aconite

Winter Aconite Eranthis hyemalis (08/02/2011) - Photo: Indra Jackson

There can be no more cheerful sight on an early February day than a group of bright yellow Winter Aconites Eranthis hyemalis lighting up the gloomy winter woodland. This pretty little plant is a native of Southern Europe belonging to the Ranuculaceae or Buttercup family and is widely naturalised in woodlands, copses and parks throughout the Eastern half of the country. They have long been popular garden plants, grown for their early flowers and bright green foliage and are particularly useful as ground cover. The plant is also known as Wolf's Bane and is highly poisonous, although the acrid taste makes poisoning unlikely. In Greek mythology it was believed that the Aconite contained the toxic saliva of Cerberus, the three-headed dog who guarded the Underworld. Hercules dragged Cerberus from the Underworld and the dog, shying from the light, dropped saliva on the ground and it's deadly poison entered the plants that grew in that spot.

I am usually out of the country in January and February when the Winter Aconites are in flower and I was determined not to miss out this year. So last week on a rare sunny day I rushed over to Aldbury Village to photograph this large group, growing on a chalky slope at the edge of Ashridge Forest.

Winter Aconite Eranthis hyemalis (08/02/2011)

Old Barn

A few days before Christmas I was on the way home from a long winter walk, when I came across this ruined wooden barn blanketed in snow, near Drayton Beauchamp Village, close to Wilstone Reservoir. I was dreaming of home and warming up with a hot cup of tea by this time, but stopped for a few minutes to take a some photographs. There was something timeless and haunting about the old building, slowly collapsing under the weight of time, like an out of focus glimpse of a lost rural past, fast slipping beyond the reach of memory.

Old Wooden Barn - Drayton Beauchamp (19/12/2010)