Northern Exposure....

Is there anything more exciting than an unasnwered question?

The potential locked in that inquiry. The thought and investigation that it's solution will require.
Research in written material, observation and analysis. Fascinating.

The study of shorebird migration has many unanswered questions and I have had several opportunities to contribute to research in this field.

Most recently in Portugal during February. Some of the Sanderling that I helped to colour ring have been spotted on their northerly migration. They are still going, some have flown past me already. The sightings reported have been added to the growing database for the Sanderling project the better to determine their lines of travel, timings etc.

The journey south that I took to take part in this project was nothing short of spectacular. In aiding the study of this species I saw some amazing things.

Black-winged Stilts swaying around mirrored pools as I recorded colour ringed Black-tailed Godwits are the stand out from my trip south.

However, there are more questions to be answered. The answers lie North. Just that word fills me with excitement and expectation. North. Breeding birds, tundra, almost total daylight for 24 hours.

On Monday next I head to the Arctic to help on another project, this time looking for and colour ringing Red Knots as they migrate to Greenland and Canada.

I can't wait for the cold of northern Norway and my rendez-vous with birds I last saw a couple of months ago on the muddy banks of the Dee. What adventures lie in the exposed , treesless tundra of Porsanger?

So, as I pack the winter coats, it seems that there IS something more exciting than an unanswered question. The pursuit of it's resolution.

I am arctic....

Wheatear Bomb.....

Calm has returned. I look across the marsh and see tufts of grass quiver in the breeze, a piece of litter cartwheeling between clumps of vegetation and little else in the way of movement. This scene is in stark contrast to 24 hours previous.

The intricacies of a busy rota and suitable tide times meant I was due on Hilbre Island on Wednesday, the day that, in the words of the Hilbre Island blog, saw "almost certainly the largest ever fall of migrants recorded at Hilbre since the Bird Observatory was established in 1957", for their full story click here.

It really was a spectacular day. After a stop-start Spring migration the birds obviously decided it was do-or-die and went for it. As a result of weather fronts bumping into each other a phenomenal number of migrants dropping on to the island I had just arrived on.

Looking around it was as if a Wheatear bomb had gone off. All along the west side of the island were Wheatears. Some loafing on the grass, others scromping grubs from the sandy cliffs. If you got one in the viewfinder of the camera there was almost always another in the same frame.

There must have been around two hundred of them during the course of the day but their numbers were dwarfed by the amount of Willow Warblers that fell from the skies. Final total was 800. You looked at every bush, fence post and there was a Willow Warbler there. I walked out of the garden of the Bird Obs and nearly trod on one. I have never seen anything like it before.

The Birds Obs was in full flow. Derek was zooming around the island collecting birds from the traps and depositing in the Obs. Bagged birds soon mounted up.

Phil would apply the rings and measure/weigh the birds.

Johhny was recording all this data, so many birds coming through the Obs that smoke seemed to come from his pen.

It was mainly Willow Warblers but other species were ringed too. 9 Wheatear were processed, a fine male in the hand was presented for me to photograph before his release.

A more unusual species was ringed too. Grasshopper Warblers are notoriously tricky to see in the reedbeds and scrub of Red Rocks. I have heard many but seen few, so to see one in the hand was a real treat. I have to thank the folks at the bird observatory for allowing me to get in close and record what they were doing.

The birds kept on coming, warblers, Wheatears and Redstarts in the scrubby vegetation and literally thousands of Swallows zooming through over our dizzy heads, like I wrote earlier, I'd never seen anything like it before. This was the most visible of visble migration.

Such numbers and such proximity to the birds was stunning. My most vivid memory will be the Willow Warbler on the path by the houses. Hopping so close I had to retreat to fit it all in the frame of the camera.

I have total respect for these birds....

west with the wind....

Civic duty has kept me from my Patch for far too long. But justice has now been served and I can return to the muddy banks of the Dee to start playing Spring catch-up.

I have missed loads of the action so with a day off today and with favourable weather I just had to get out.

A south easterly wind had blown up following the deluge of Sunday and with it came migrant birds. Lots of them. Brought north and west with the wind, right to my Patch.

I sit on the train at West Kirby thinking about what could come my way and on the journey to Moreton I get a taster. I spot 4 Wheatear from the train window between Meols and my destination. This is a good sign.

If I could make a wish list for the day it would be Wheatears, lots of, Whinchats, a couple, and Yellow Wagtails, just one would do.

Off the train and straight to the paddocks by Leasowe Lighthouse. I had a plan to wander around the whole site but I ended up staying here all morning. All of my wishes came true!

Amongst the daisies and dandelions are dozens of migrants. Wheatears present in greatest numbers....

They bound around the paddocks hhovering up slugs and worms that have been brought up by the wet weather. Looking through binoculars and camera you can see several birds in one field of view.

The paddocks are partially flooded from the incessant rain from Sunday, not great for the horses but the Wheatears are taking full advantage, bathing worn feathers on this migration stop off.

Droplets of water fly from feathers mimicing the rain of 24 hours ago.

On the fence bisecting 2 paddocks sits a Whinchat. This is a bonus. I was expecting Wheatears and hoping for Whinchats. There are 2 that I can see (a thirds appears after I have gone), they stay on the far side of the field, never getting close enough for good pictures, but I'm happy to get any after my recent drought!

One briefly drops into a puddle for a bath before flying off to paddocks out of bounds to birdwatchers, more drops of water left flying in its wake.

I respect the boundaries I cannot cross and turn my attention back to the Wheatears. As I get a few more pictures another birder calls a Yellow Wagtail. 2 gloriously bright males are mooching with the other birds, blending in perfectly with the dandelions that stud the grass. They are even more reluctant to be photographed than the Whinchats and I don't have the time to do them justice. It is great to watch them, I always feel like I've been treated when I catch up with one.

I settle down on the path, damp seeps into my jeans but I don't mind too much. I figure that the Wheatears will wander in close. Over a couple of hours they've demonstrated no fear of the walkers and dogs that have passed along the path, and if I sit tight I might get some portraits of these smart little birds.

I'm not disappointed....

Being back out on the Patch would have been treat enough but to walk into a fall of migrants was awesome.

I feel restored!