Different Dungeness

Today I went to Dungeness with Phil Sharp (see his ace blog here). We met at West Malling train station (I saw a brilliant close-range Buzzard from the train near Kemsing), and drove south-eastish, arriving at about 11.30am. We went to the sea first, and after an entirely fruitless lap of the observatory walked out onto the beach, where the strong wind was whipping up some pretty big waves.

I'd hoped for a repeat of the seabird-fest of bird-race day, but there were no Gannets around and a lot fewer auks. The very different weather conditions presumably have a lot to do with this. We did see a few auks, including this sextet of Guillemots, two already sporting their dark summer heads.

There were still loads of Kittiwakes around though, mostly flying into the wind just offshore and looking very pretty in the sunshine.

We got to the fishing boats and went through the assembled gulls in search of the elusive Glaucous, which today was at maximum elusiveness. The flocks did contain many Black-headed, Herring and Great Black-backs, plus a few Kittiwakes and a couple of Skylarks, which flew off tweeting in dismay when they realised they weren't gulls.

I've included a few pics of random dogs over the years/months of doing this blog, and I don't see why I should stop now. This well-upholstered specimen was standing guard while his/her owner was fishing.

Next, we drove to the RSPB reserve, pausing for the obligatory look at the Tree Sparrows (seen here with one imposter House Sparrow) around the warden's cottage.

The news in the visitor centre wasn't terribly inspiring. We decided on a crazy whim not to walk around the reserve but instead to go to Greatstone and look for the Snow Bunting that had been reported there.

I've never been to the sandy beach at Greatstone. It's like a mini Camber Sands (complete with marram-cloaked dunes and expensive car parking). The most curious sight here was a fence that was decorated with colourful rubber gloves.

We'd hoped there would be other birders around to point us in the right direction for the Snow Bunting, but there were only dog walkers to be seen. We walked eastwards anyway, where the beach soon became shingly.

When the tide is out here, there is a huge acreage of muddy sand or sandy mud exposed, which attracts waders. Today the tide was very decidedly in, but we found a small crowd of waders sheltering by a groyne. Besides the Oystercatchers and Redshanks, there were also many Turnstones and at least one Sanderling.

Because the Oystercatcher in the photo with the Redshanks was blurry, here's another one, from the walk back along the beach. We also saw a seal (Grey, I think) bobbing about in what must have been very shallow water, and added another gull to the day's tally - Common.

We'd planned to go to the ARC pit next, but then Phil made a passing remark about wanting to go to Hythe sometime to look for Purple Sandpipers, and after some discussion we decided, sod it, we would give the ARC a miss and go to Hythe RIGHT NOW instead. I was keen on this idea as Hythe is on my list of possible places to go and live, when I make my much longed-for relocation to somewhere seasidey.

So we drove past New Romney and Dymchurch and into Hythe, and parked up on the sea road. It was just a short walk back the way we came, escorted by masses of gulls, to reach a large rocky breakwater where, we hoped, Purple Sandpipers would be lurking. We went down onto the beach on the well-lit side of the breakwater and had a good look.

Um, OK. This wasn't really what we'd come to see. But very pretty nonetheless.

The first waders to pop their heads above the parapet were the inevitable Turnstones. But a bit of patient searching revealed a Sanderling and at least four Purple Sandpipers. Here's some more pics...

Photographing this lot was tricky, as they kept disappearing between the rocks. But we managed it in the end.

With the light on its way out, I finished off with a few backlit shots of this supremely imposing Great Black-back, which was busy smashing cockles to bits on the beach behind us. It hadn't been quite the day I'd expected but had been great nonetheless. And I decided I like Hythe, very much.

Bearded ladies

I read somewhere that a couple of female Bearded Tits showed up in Hyde Park during the snowy spell. I wondered which of the few tiny patches of Phragmites the birds had chosen to settle in, and how on earth they had managed to find it. With sunshine forecast for Sunday, and no desperately urgent work to finish, I decided to go up for the day. I had a very relaxed attitude towards the Beardies - I didn't check before I left that they were still there, and I didn't head for the reeds straight away but spent a good three hours photographing various other things first.

 I started my walk on the north side of the lake, which was silly. The light (looking towards the lake) would have been much better on the south side. This Cormorant illustrates my point, though it made up for its badly lit state by striking various exotic poses. I crossed the bridge to continue my walk on the south shore.

From the bridge - a pair of Great Crested Grebes getting frisky. I only saw one other all day, which seems a bit down on previous visits.

This young Grey Heron was on one of the same row of posts as the Cormorant, but on the other side of the lake. (You can tell it's on the other side because it's facing the other way...) See what I mean about the light?

I went over to the area where I've seen people hand-feeding assorted little birds, by a fenced-off area of woodland. This involved traversing some serious mud but it was worth it. Waiting in the trees were various songbirds, eyeing me with interest as I got my sunflower hearts out.

 Several Great Tits and Blue Tits made snatch-and-grab visits. One of the Great Tits (this one) was unusually pale and colourless (nothing wrong with her black bits though). A Starling landed on my hand, looked askance at the sunflower hearts and flew back into the tree, where it sang enthusiastically. A male Chaffinch was much keener and fed at length before being scared off by a Feral Pigeon (about fifty had gathered and were milling around my feet).

But the most eager recipient was this beauty. I was very surprised when a female Ring-necked Parakeet landed on my hand. Although all our RNPs do descend from pet (or at least aviary) birds, the feral population by and large seems very wary and flighty. But these are clever birds and it's not really a surprise that some are learning that it can pay to be friendly with the humans. The parakeet was fearless. She even fended off the pigeons with ease. She also chewed my finger rather hard when the seed ran out. Another person feeding the birds handed her a monkey nut, which she took up a tree to demolish, allowing me to get a photo.

On towards Round Pond. On the way, I stopped to kneel down for an eye-level photo of Egyptian Geese. Kneeling down actually quite hurts (which will be an issue if/when I do my next aikido grading) but it was worth it on this occasion. The park is heaving with Egyptian Geese, I saw at least 30.

There are Shovelers on Round Pond. This strikes me as odd. There are Shovelers on the Serpentine too, but that is a  proper, big lake with lots of marginal vegetation and places for the Shovelers to hide (which they do - not for them the feeding frenzies with the other ducks). Round Pond though is small, and circular, with nothing whatsoever overhanging it.

Round Pond is mainly about gulls. Lots of Black-headed, a few Herring, and my favourites, the Common Gulls. They patrol around the edges of the pond, homing in on anyone who looks like they're packing Mother's Pride. Pretty face.

Round Pond is also about Starlings. They loiter around the water's edge to drink and bathe, then head for the cropped grass nearby to look for insects. They are absurdly tame and approachable, so you can really appreciate their fantastic winter  plumage.

Back at the Serpentine, a male Pochard. The total number of Pochards here isn't huge - maybe they just about reach double figures. But no sign of their Red-crested brethren today, nor any Mandarins.

More Shovelers. A proper, grown-up pair this time, unlike the scruffy first-winter male I posted before. I wonder if they breed here.

Here's a Sparrowhawk, seen while I was having a rather half-hearted (and fruitless) search for the Tawny Owl tree. This was one of two Sprawks seen today -  my pics of the other one are even worse than this.

Better flight pic, arguably less interesting bird though. But looking at the primaries and secondaries, this Carrion Crow looks like it may have a touch of that odd dietary leucism that seems pretty common in London crows.

The park is of course stuffed with Feral Pigeons and Woodpigeons, so it was nice to find a lone Stock Dove, high up a tree and surveying the scene below.

OK, time for the Beardies. As I got near the reedbed I could see half-a-dozen birders pointing big lenses reedwards. Also, there was Jim, and Becca, who greeted me warmly and passed on the encouraging news that they had already enjoyed good views of the birds. It wasn't long before I got my first glimpse of the two little birds as they nipped along the base of the bed. I stayed there a couple of hours and eventually the girls both showed beautifully. They are sporting BTO rings, which I've learned were acquired when they were at RSPB Rye Meads in November last year. So they haven't come that far, but it's still mind-boggling that they managed to locate this tiny reedbed in the middle of the concrete sprawl of London. I suppose they saw the water (the Serpentine is pretty huge) and took it from there. Despite it being a windy day, they were climbing to the tops of the reeds, and also at one point came down to ground level to drink. They are the first Beardies ever known to have visited inner London, and their showiness has been appreciated by many a non-birder (LOADS of people stopped and asked about the birds) as well as those of us who came especially to see them. I took huge quantities of photos, here's a few that I like, plus one not so good one but it shows the two birds together.

A (local) patch of snow

I had to work most of the weekend, so decided I could spare a couple of hours today for a snowy shuffle around Sevenoaks Wildlife reserve. We've had a couple of heavyish snowfalls here the last few days, amounting to maybe 10cm of laying snow. Today, no more snow falling but it remained below freezing, and very still with boring grey skies.

My first stop was at the Grebe hide to see what was coming to the feeders. With snow on the ground, Robins start showing a serious interest in above ground-level feeding opportunities, and there were three or four sitting nearby, periodically visiting the seed feeder where they bullied and intimidated the Blue and Great Tits that were also trying to feed. Two of the Robins also came into the hide to see if I had anything for them - one actually sang a bit while sitting on the windowframe.

It took this Dunnock ages to pluck up the courage to have a go on the hanging feeder, long enough for me to take 27 photos of it. There was also a Chaffinch lurking around, but no sign of Nuthatch or Marsh Tit today.

Just down the trail from the visitor centre - two Goldfinches, looking like little fireworks among the snow-laden branches.

I went up to the viewing mound, from where I could see that the whole of East Lake was, like West Lake, free of ice. So it can't have been as cold as it felt. The snow-covered islands were crowded with birds. I dithered a while over what to do, feeling the pull of my favourite hide (Willow) as I always do, but finally decided to head for Tyler hide first.

On the foreshore of the Serengeti, various species were either hunched on the shoreline or swimming in the shallows nearby. Most excitingly, to me, was this pair of Snipes, which were kind enough to stay put while I opened (as quietly as I could) the viewing window.

This photo shows a sizeable proportion of the species present and viewable - Lapwing, Black-headed Gull, Moorhen, Greylag Goose, Teal and Snipe. Also out there were Common Gulls, one or two Great Crested Grebes, an islandful of Cormorants, a few each of Gadwall, Shoveler, Pochard and Tufted Duck, but alas no sign of anything more wintery. I'd hoped for a Goosander or two but no dice (nor any Goosanders).

This pair of Gadwalls seemed very close, well on the way to becoming a bonded pair. I wondered if they might get hold of either end of the same bit of underwater weed and have a 'Lady and the Tramp' moment but they didn't. Was today going to be nothing but disappointments?

Five Shovelers in V formation, the lone female at the front, came paddling along to cross in front of the hide. Of the four males, three were moulting first-winters, in varying states of scruffiness.

Poor Lapwing. The weather conditions have frozen his crest into a silly shape.

I left the hide and again pondered which way to go - retrace steps to get to Willow hide, or see if there was anything doing from Sutton hide? I opted for the latter and began the slow trudge alongside the lake. It turned out to be a good move.

Ahead, high in a tree, I could see a biggish bird perched quietly on its own. Usually, biggish birds in trees are Woodpigeons, but there was something about this one that made me look twice, and when I got close enough for IDable views I was pleased to see it was a male Sparrowhawk, sitting with his back to me and showing some characteristic white 'pearl' markings on his back.

I kept going til I was level and past the Sprawk, then looked back and fired off a few shots. The Sprawk didn't care for this and gave me a hard stare before stepping off his perch and flying away through the trees.

Only a couple of paces further on I found another goodie, this Redwing lurking low in the undergrowth. Feeling guilty about flushing the Sprawk, I took care to give the Redwing lots of space and it repaid me with a nice pose.

Goldrests, unlike Sparrowhawks and Redwings, don't have much truck with the idea of personal space. I'd stopped to look for the Treecreeper I could hear high above, then noticed this little poppet darting about in a sapling about an arm's reach from where I was standing. The problem here was not the risk of frightening the bird, but the fact that it would not keep still for more than a millisecond.

In between Goldcrest-watching, I did also locate the Treecreeper, doing its tree-creeping thing. I suppose not much changes for Treecreepers when there's a snow day.

After all that, Sutton hide itself was a disappointment - nothing to see but a few depressed-looking gulls bobbing on the water, and a Moorhen stalking along the shoreline. I didn't stay, but made my way back via the woodland trail, noting a Green and a Great Spotted Woodpecker, and a flock of some 30 Siskins.

Then I found another, or the same, Goldcrest and watched it for a while. It was deeper into the wood now, and quite high up, not really worth photographing. Then with a swish of wings a Sparrowhawk (the same one as before, perhaps) swooped down and must have only just missed snagging the little 'crest on its way through. Not that the Goldcrest seemed bothered. It directed an irritable, scolding little call at the hawk's retreating tail, and carried on foraging.

I continued past the viewpoint and took the trail towards Willow hide. My hopes of finding a fabulous concentration of wildfowl here were dashed when I opened a window to behold an expanse of ice. If I'd stayed here all day I bet I would have been there to witness a Water Rail creeping along the edge of the frozen lake, if I didn't die of exposure first. I stayed all of five seconds and then moved on.

Wrens were everywhere today but in full camera-dodging mode. This was the only one  that kept still long enough for even one rubbish photo. Perhaps it was momentarily stunned by the coldness of the ice on which it's sitting.

Noting that the whole of North Lake was frozen too, I'd elected to give Carter hide a miss, but loitered around the area a while as there were many birds calling. Some of the noise was coming from another feeding Goldcrest, but most of it was a large Siskin flock a little higher up in the alders. The Siskins scattered with a whoosh of wings and alarm calls when yet another Sparrowhawk scythed through the treetops. I didn't see whether it got one or not. Again, the Goldcrest didn't give a monkey's.

I've never managed to photograph a Goldcrest in hover mode before but this one gave me so many chances that eventually I got one I liked.

January Bird Race 2013

I love bird race day. A mad dash along the East Sussex/south Kent coast to rack up as many species as possible before the all-too-short daylight hours were over. It reminds me of when I were a lass and birding was all about what you saw rather than what you photographed, and it didn't matter if the light was rubbish and it rained all day. Well, it didn't matter that much.

I've been doing this January bird race with assorted chums for about 11 years now. Nigel, who instigated the whole tradition, has been doing it for a lot longer. He has kept meticulous records of what's seen each year, and they make interesting reading. Some species used to be dead certs but have become rare and infrequent (eg Scaup). For others the reverse is true (eg Little Egret). The average day count is 82, the record is (tantalisingly) 98. The cumulative list stands at a pretty impressive 151.

So on Thursday evening I stayed at Nigel's house, where he and Cheryle were so lovely and welcoming that it was ridiculous, and I had an early night in the hope of being up early enough Friday morning to hear the local Tawny Owl. I didn't manage this, but Nigel did, so it was the first bird on the list. My first bird, though, was the Robin who sent a tendril of song through the bathroom window as I got out of the shower, still well before first light.

The house is out in the wilds of rural Ninfield, and the garden attracts plenty of worthwhile birds. The bird race, therefore, always begins in Nigel's conservatory, drinking hot tea and squinting out into the garden as the growing light gradually reveals the bird feeders. Ticking off the likes of Blue and Great Tit, Dunnock, Wren, Chaffinch, Blackbird, Woodpigeon etc is a piece of cake. The real prize though, is Marsh Tit. For some reason Marsh Tits don't get up as early as their relatives, and we were still Marsh Titless when Nigel went out to collect Alice and Jasmine from Battle station. I stayed put, eyes glued to the feeders, added Coal Tit and Collared Dove. Nigel returned with the girls, served a fabulous breakfast, and Rob and then Jim rolled up as 9 o'clock approached. Then the Marsh Tit finally deigned to show its face, we added a close-range Goldcrest, and then it was into the cars and off to Fairlight cliffs. On the drive there we added Goldfinch, which had been a no-show in Nige's garden, and a few other sundry items.

Our seawatching vantage point at Fairlight is accessed via a longish and (on this occasion) exceedingly muddy slog across fields to a precipitous sandstone cliff edge. A couple of years ago a large segment of adjacent cliffs fell down, but our bit is still intact. Way across on the slid-down bit, I spotted a vixen watching us intently, while on the slope below her fella was having a wander about.

Telescope views of the Foxes brought smiles to everyone's faces, and much comment about how much better-looking they were than the average London street Fox. Bird-wise, things were a little disappointing, but Nigel's hard work scoping the sea produced a few goodies, best of which was a small party of Common Scoters. We also got the expected Great Crested Grebes, Fulmars and Red-throated Diver.

A waddle back across the fields, and then on to Pett Level. Here, there is wet pasture and some large shallow pools, home (hopefully) to waders, wildfowl and geese, and on the other side of the road a high bank separating road from sea. We parked up and scanned the fields, wherein were Lapwings, Curlews and Starlings in abundance. We added Turnstone and various ducks, and a Marsh Harrier sulking in a bush. The full power of the Swarovski scope was deployed when Nigel picked up two Peregrines sitting companiably on a very distant gate.

I climbed the steep bank to look at the sea. This was pretty much a waste of time as the tide was right in, though I found a couple of Turnstones on the shingle. Cormorants were going to and fro overhead, some pretty close. This one seems to me to have a strikingly wide gular angle, making it an example of the subspecies sinensis and giving the lie to the notion that inland Cormorants are all sinensis while coastal ones are all carbo (read this if you have no clue what I'm on about but are intrigued: http://www.paxton-pits.org.uk/id.htm)

Moving on a little further, we found heaps of geese feeding in the fields. Most of them were Greylags and Canadas but among them were one or two others, including a family of White-fronts, which were really too far away to bother photographing (but I did anyway), and a small flock of Brents which flew about restlessly before striking out seawards and disappearing from view.

Just a couple more from Pett. I took the Curlews photos from the car while it was still moving quite fast, am amazed it came out this well. And here's a lovely Rook, last of the corvids to fall to our list. We had also added Reed Bunting and assorted common ducks, but it was disappointing not to get a few more waders here.

Next stop was Scotney, the huge gravel pit that straddles the East Sussex/Kent border on the road through Camber towards Lydd. Often there is a rare grebe, duck or diver lurking somewhere out there but not today.

The most interesting bird for me here was a leucistic Greylag. Funny how I'd never seen a leucistic one til last month, and now here's another (plus I IDed one from a photo for a friend recently). Scotney also sometimes has a few feral Barnacles around but they were AWOL today.

We did finally track down the Scotney Golden Plover flock, at the far end of the lake. Here too was a Redshank, amazingly the only one I personally saw all day, and Rob found a Stonechat on the fence behind us. We added Stock Dove here too, and Little Egret if I remember rightly.

We carried on, Dungeness-wards, and took a detour down Dengemarsh Road and  back, as this often yields partridges and sometimes wild swans. Today it didn't, but we did catch a lucky break when Nigel found all three of our missing thrush species - Mistle Thrush, Fieldfare and Redwing - feeding together in a roadside field.

We went on to the ARC pit, following the trail to the hide and collecting Cetti's Warbler on the way. From the hide, the birds were distant and spread out, but one of the closest was a lovely female Goldeneye. She was very actively feeding, meaning she was underwater about 70% of the time. Further out were a few Smews, including one adult male, sticking out like a sore thumb (or maybe a deep-frozen thumb, as he was mostly white) among a flock of Pochards.

We picked up some 'gen' in the hide that there was a Firecrest around, keeping company with a tit flock. So after leaving the hide we had a little search and in the scrubby willows nearby picked up the various 'pip' and 'prrp' and 'ping ping prrrr' sounds of the tit flock, but seeing the actual birds through the mesh of twigs was difficult. We spread out along the boardwalk and around a corner - I was on my own when I raised my bins to check the second bird I saw, a tiny mite monentarily in plain view on an exposed twig. I was so bowled over by its sheer prettiness that I didn't have the presence of mind to raise my camera, but I did start yelping 'Firecrest! Here! I'm looking at it!'. I heard Nigel exclaim that he could see it too. Then it dropped down. I hurried back to join the others but the Firecrest didn't reappear, though we found three or four Goldcrests.

Time was ticking on and stomachs were rumbling. We headed back towards the car park, stopping briefly to admire the male Smew, with a redheaded companion, from a point on the path that gave a slightly closer view than the hide.

On the way to lunch at the Pilot, we made a dangerous stop on the straight but very fast and narrow road that passes between the ARC pit and the 'new diggings' to admire this Great White Egret, one of several resident at the reserve this winter.

We rocked up to the Pilot pub on Dungeness beach and ordered our fish and chip lunches. Told that the food would take 15 minutes, three of us (Nigel, Jim and I) opted to nip down the road to Littlestone and see if we could find any waders on the beach. On the way out of the pub I noticed a swirl of white things over the sea, and checking through my bins was surprised and delighted to see that they were Gannets. We often manage to snag a distant Gannet or two from the beach here, but there were hundreds out there, and not far offshore either. They were feeding - periodically one would stop its lazy swirlings to fold itself into a javelin and plunge headfirst into the waves.

We drove to Littlestone (two minutes away) and walked out to the beach. The tide was well out now. This view towards Greatstone shows the weather we'd had more or less all day - a fair bit of sunshine, but lots of thick cloud around too which kept switching off the lights.

Birdwise, we found Oystercatchers and Shelduck. Nigel then got a Grey Plover in the scope, and as I took my turn at the scope a Sanderling obligingly scuttled across the field of view. I also checked inland but only found this row of Starlings, all mysteriously sticking to just one of the four wires available to them. Then my phone went - the food had arrived and our chips were in danger of being stolen. So we hurried back.

By the time we'd finished our huge platefuls, it was getting on for 3pm. Short days really do help focus the mind. We decided to head for the beach next, in hope of finding our bogey bird - Glaucous Gull.

The Dungeness 'Glonk' is back for its third winter. In the course of its stay I've dipped it about five times, including twice on bird races. Nigel has seen it about five times (but not on a bird race). I really, really wanted to see it but couldn't help but feel pessimistic, especially as when we checked the regular beach flock it was a) very small and b) didn't have the Glaucous Gull in it. There are of course gulls elsewhere on the beach, lots of them, but we just didn't have time to check that many different places. Nevertheless, I stomped seawards, really in hope of seeing if all the Gannets were still around. Near the shore, I could see a large number of gulls flying about near the fishing boats, and a birder standing nearby, pointing his scope at them. Nigel went off to swap 'gen' with this birder, while the rest of us got distracted by a sea that was busy with Great Crested Grebes and auks (Guillemots and Razorbills both present in good numbers).

Soon I noticed Nigel was making frantic hand signals in our direction, and surmised that he, or the other birder, had just found the Glonk. We all rushed over and Nigel said that the Glonk was right there, flying over the boats. Unfortunately so were about 150 other gulls. But we all eventually picked up the beast we wanted. It was indeed a beast, big and barrel-shaped, with a profusion of brown head and chest streaking that made it look like a very messy eater, and those trademark white-tipped wings - even in the now horrible light it really stood out once you got your eye in.

Delighted though I was to see this particular Glonk, the species is never going to be my favourite gull. But as luck would have it, that species was present too. As I stood on the shingle ridge nearest the sea, a stream of Kittiwakes went by overhead. These lovely gulls flew right past us, quite unafraid, and if it hadn't been such awful light I'd have managed some nice photos, I think. There were both adults and stripy first-winters (or 'tarrocks' as I think the Shetlanders call them). I've never seen anything like this at Dunge before.

It was nearly 4pm now and there was really no light to speak of. So the camera went back in the bag for the last bit - a quick look at the RSPB reserve. We got in just before the centre closed, and headed for the big hide set on the corner of the pit, from where we found another newbie for the day list - Pintail. We also got another Great White Egret here. Then we went out to scan across the reedy bits of the reserve in hope of catching a Bittern going to roost.

All credit to Nigel - he stood up there on his shingly knoll until it was almost dark, after the rest of us had given up. But his patience was not to be rewarded with a Bittern. Instead, he found a distant Sparrowhawk, and we all heard the pained squealing of a Water Rail. The day total was 87, Glaucous Gull a new addition to the cumulative list, and everyone was tired but happy as we said our goodbyes and made our separate ways homewards. This could be the last bird race, as Nigel's looking to move to Norfolk - if so, I think it was a fitting send-off for what's been a highlight of my birding year for a long time.

ETA - here's the list, for anyone interested...

Blackbird, Black-headed Gull, Blue Tit, Brent Goose, Canada Goose, Carrion Crow, Cetti’s Warbler, Chaffinch, Coal Tit, Collared Dove, Common Gull, Common Scoter, Coot, Cormorant, Curlew, Dunnock, Feral Pigeon, Fieldfare, Firecrest, Fulmar, Gadwall, Gannet, Glaucous Gull, Goldcrest, Golden Plover, Goldeneye, Goldfinch, Great Black-backed Gull, Great Crested Grebe, Great Tit, Great White Egret, Greenfinch, Grey Heron, Grey Plover, Greylag Goose, Guillemot, Herring Gull, House Sparrow, Jackdaw, Jay, Kestrel, Kingfisher, Kittiwake, Lapwing, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Little Egret, Little Grebe, Long-tailed Tit, Magpie, Mallard, Marsh Harrier, Marsh Tit, Mistle Thrush, Moorhen, Mute Swan, Nuthatch, Oystercatcher, Peregrine, Pied Wagtail, Pintail, Pochard, Razorbill, Redshank, Red-throated Diver, Redwing, Reed Bunting, Robin, Rook, Sanderling, Shelduck, Shoveler, Smew, Song Thrush, Sparrowhawk, Starling, Stock Dove, Stonechat, Tawny Owl, Teal, Tree Sparrow, Tufted Duck, Turnstone, Water Rail, White-fronted Goose, Wigeon, Woodpigeon, Wren.