Tuesday, 27 April 2010

Passerine sp.

First day out for a while due to contractual agreements with new child.  The sun was blazing. Blazing I tells ye. In just a T-shirt all day at a warm and still Spurn (although when I say 'just a T-shirt' my lower half was actually covered too.  With a pair of jeans.  You knew what I meant).
It started off quiet.
"Hmmm...quiet" I thought.
Just a few Whitethroats around canal hedge.  Then it got pleasant.  Pleasant, I tells ye. A Common Sandpiper was piping sand on Clubley's Scrape, a Little-Ringed Plover flew south, calling as it did so, then a Stock Dove also went south but wasn't calling as it did so.  Pleasant.  I walked fucking miles today.  Miles, I tells ye. A walk around the Triangle produced as many Wheatears in the same field as anyone has ever seen ever ever.  16.
There were 4 more near Big Hedge.
A Reed Warbler was the first of the year, a Sedgie was the first of the year for me, as was a House Martin (!), a Whitethroat (!) and the aforementioned waders.  Stood on the mound near Big Hedge something called, going north.  A soft "chup", a bit like a Tree/House Sparrow but not as harsh.  It flew right over my heed, a Wagtail-like being.  A Wagtail-like thing with a Yellowish hue on its underparts.  I've never heard Yellow Wag do a call like this before.  Grey Wag?  Can they make this call?  It didn't look like a Grey Wag though, no way.  Citrine?  Not sure how they call.  It carried on north very strongly and was lost to view way up Beacon so it never dropped down, so I never looked for it again.  A look at the literature suggests that no Wagtail in the world ever ever makes this call ever.  Oh.  What the fuck was it then?

I went up Beacon Lane anyway.  10+ Whitethroat, a Chiffy, and a singing Lesser Whitethroat.  Pleasant.
Onto Sammy's Point, I told you I walked miles.  A properly identified Yellow Wag then flew past me and 2 Lesser Grey Shrikes perched on the fence looked remarkably like Wheatears.  In fact, they looked so incredibly like Wheatears that I started to suspect that they were, indeed, Wheatears.

"Jesus Holy Mary Mother of God" I screamed at a Whimbrel as it flew past on the Humber shore.


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