Blacktoft

For the life of me, I don't know why the fuck it's big news on this side of the pond, but local loono, Robert Lee Gardner who "just killed a bunch of people and stuff" got absolutely shot dead today by firing squad over there in Utah state county.  He was on death row for 25 head-doing years. He actually got to choose the method of his death. What a proper mental decision to have to make.  I think I'd have said "Ooh.....I'll go for.....erm.....yeah, old age for me, thanks". 
So he asked for the firing squad which are now illegal, but at the time he was sentenced it was still law so he had the right to choose it.  I think I'd have asked for Emile Heskey to be doing the shooting though.

I saw a bloody Spoonbill today.  Imagine that, a Spoonbill.  It was just stood there with it's bill tucked into it's body.  It seemed to be asleep here at Blacktoft Sands.  Some time later it lifted it's bone idle head from it's slumber to reveal a bill that was indeed shaped just like a spoon!  It's a good job they're called Spoonbill and not something else like "Hammerbill" or maybe "Hatbill" because those names just wouldn't suit a bird with that shaped bill.

The journey to Blacktoft was amusing/stupid and/or frustrating, depending on which angle you're viewing from.
"Pay your surgeon very well to break the spell of aging,
sicker than the rest, there is no test,
but this is what you're craving...
A first born unicorn...
Hard core soft porn...
Dream of Californication, dream of FUCKING BASTARD, I've missed the fucking turn off, fuck off" I sang/shouted, funnily enough just as I careered past the turn off from the M62 to Blacktoft.  Spun it around at the next junction (about 400 miles at least).
Red Hot Chili Peppers had long since gone from the radiogram and had now been replaced by Queen's seminal, subliminal, beautifully written and subtle classic "Fat-Bottomed Girls".

".......Heap big woman you done made a big man of me!

Now get this!.....

AAAAAAH, (I know),you gonna take me home tonight (please)
AAAAAAH, down beside that red firelight
AAAAAAH, you gonna let it all hang out
Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round
Fat bottomed girls you make the rockin' world go round
GET ON YOUR BIKES AND RIDE!
OOOOOOOOOH yeah FUCKING ARSETITS!  FOR FUCK'S SAKE I'VE DONE IT AGAIN COMING BACK THE OTHER WAY!!!!!" I harmoniously sang beautifully as I whizzed past the junction yet again. Over the Ouse bridge, spun 'round and went back back over the Ouse bridge.  Four times I went over that bastard bridge today.

Two (of five in total) Spotted Redshanks were feeding close to the hide in full summer dress. Now I know Spot Shanks are common (ish) but these were quite possibly the best birds I'd seen this year.  I mean that.  They were in proper mint plumage, legs still jet black, showing really well, until I had a very loud random outburst about 'my needs throughout the night' and flushed everything to the other side of the scrape. 

A Ruff, a Common Sand, a Snipe, 30 Blackwits, some Bearded Reedlings, and a cheeky little Stoat than ran across the path before my very eyes made the preposterous journey all worthwhile.  Perhaps. 

My first ever attempt at phone-digi-binning.

This is a Whitethroat, although you can't see it.

This is my second attempt.

Getting better.

This is a Goldfinch.

My third attempt came out quite well, I thought.

This is a Spotted Redshank.

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Guest Entry From Lee, FROM bucks

Hello.  We've got Lee on here again.  Another guest entry.  Apparently Lee has mde the BOU redundant.  Anyway, enough of me talking, over to Lee, 62, from Bucks:

"Welcome, my subjects.  It's nearly the 16th June and, amazingly, Britain and Brazil's combined total of species seen has gone through the 1000 barrier, whereas another combined total that nobody really cares about, and relates to two totally different countries, the Anglo/Nordic list, stand at 446 with the addition of Icterine Warbler at Spurn and Ross's Gull in high arctic Norway now that we can actually see up there after the winter darkness and daylight being afforded to us by God.  Not me, the other one.
I have also looked into changing the boundaries of the Western Palearctic as some of my species fall outside the recognised perimeters.  Who makes the rules anyway?  The officials?  Oh.  Well, with me being Presidente, I really must question as to who gave these people the authority to set such boundaries. What if I were to come up with new boundaries?  Who's to say I don't have the authority?
Honestly, the lack of respect in British birding.
Tut.
I'm pleased to announce that the British Association of Birding has made some taxonomic changes to the British List.  Eurasian Blackbird now falls into three species, The nominate and two new full species, Albino Blackbird (Zoothera Honkinegrus) and Partial Albino Blackbird (Zoothera Seminegrus).  This now brings my personal British List to 754 (BAB) or 386 (BOU).
This weeks round up features RANDOM capital letters, unexpected CRAZY colours WITH no real pattern.  The marmora's warbler CONTINUES to perform, and A possible BOOTED eagle was DISPROVED by ME as just a BUZZARD.  I don't believe ANY record OF honey buzzard THAT is seen OVER london.  Meanwhile, in, wait for it, Gwent, AN IBERIAN chiffchaff of unknown origin CONtinues to SING from A fucking branch ON a FUCKING tree".


Well, thanks Lee.  I'm not sure what the fuck that was all about but I'll go with it.  Thanks and happy birding to you.




..................

Into June...

Straight from Hell's Teeth, a wind did blow,

'Though just too late for a major show,

Surprised there wasn't a Marshie,

Recompense with and Iccy,

A flurry of Shrikes, and south yorkshire tykes,

And a Flycatcher in a privvy.

Spring finally sprung with some good 'scarce' around here at Spurn Bird Observatory Yorkshire Wildlife Trust National Nature Reserve.  An Icterine Warbler singing down at the point showed at times, with a Red-Breasted Flycathcherer in the same bushes which was proving elusive until I got on it distantly albeit briefly.  Albeit must be the shortest word with three syllables in the world.  Ever. Nah, what about casino and albino?  There's loads of six-letter-three-syllable words out there.  Hang on, what about ratio?  Ray-she-oh.  3 syllables, 5 letters, a new English language record. 
Area.

Area?

Who said that?

Air-re-ah.

Well that's pissed all over my bonfire. Right over it.  An AMAZING 4 letter, 3 syllable combo!
What the fuck am I talking about?

Three Red-backed Shrike were seen today, a male and a female around chalk bank of which the male showed well, the female not so well.  A breeding chance?  It's over 100 years since they bred around here.  Maybe there not quite enough cover for them at chalk bank?

A Gull looked just like a Yellow Legged Gull.  Amazingly like one in fact, which I suppose means that it was, in fact, a Yellow-Legged Gull.  2 Sandwich Tern flew north. Where are they all this year?

A nice mural of todays sightings

..............

Boring post (it's about birds)

A new dawn.  A new dawn for one and all.  A White-Tailed Plover, no less (sheeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite everyone cried) WAS near Liverpool, with the word "was" being the operative word.  It's gone.  Then one turns up in Holland that is surely the same, which means overnight it had flown DI-FUCKING-RECTLY over Yorkshire, more importantly over Hull, more to the point over Hessle, and in particlar right over my house.  It probably even stopped off in the back garden for refreshments. 

So, where to now?
Savi's at Old Moor?
Can do.
But I won't make it in time for the special viewing times that have been arranged.
Shit.
Iberian Chiff first, then onto Old Moor for around diner to see if they're opening up again?
Can do.
I often talk to myself.
The plan was set and implemented.  On arrival at Potteric Carr the mister on the desk allowed me to use the disabled car park which cut the walking time in half.  Which is a good thin with legs as bad as mine.  Ahhh.  Shut up.  I just haven't been interested in this bird for some reason.  Second for Yorkshire, about 25 for Britain....it's as rare as.........fuck!  There, I said it.  Well this is the reason:

Little shitty brown thing that looks just like a Chiffchaff which is only as rare as it is due to a dodgy split and the species is definately gonna become frequent in Britain.

Point taken.  And a few others had expressed similar sentiments.  Saying that, a lot of very rare things are little shitty brown jobs but that doesn't stop us from getting excited about them.

I arrived at the chosen area and several birders were looking for the blighter.  Hadn't been seen for a couple of hours but was singing distantly in the far hedge.  I heard it sing then something flew over our heads into the trees behind us.  Everyone just stood around.  I think they'd been there too long and lost enthusiasm for finding it, so I set off to find this thing.  After 15 minutes I located it in the corner.......

..........fuck me, I just got bored.  So you must be.  What a boring post.  Sounds like a typical dudey blog....I went here.....saw this.......saw that......had a lovely day......blah blah blah....not that all dudey blogs are boring.  Just some of them can be.  I need to get back to the childish cock jokes and pictures as quick as possible.

So, long story short, we nailed it, it sang, it showed very well, did a commentary on the birds actions, everyone got on it, walked off.  This Iberian Chiffchaff was much better than I'd imagined by the way.  They are distinctive.  Quite bright on the breast, olive-toned mantle, obvious song.  Whether I would call a female at Spurn in Autumn on features (obviously not singing) is a different matter, but I'm sure the species will be fully documented pretty shortly if it hasn't already.  Go see it if you haven't already.

The Savi's was just singing quite a way away.  No entry until 6 o'clock this evensong.  That one can wait for another day.

What a boring, bird-related post.  Or perhaps that's what people want?!!................

Review.  Click on it to read it.
Go on.

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Birder Bill Oddie and His Amazing Ripe Bellender

The biggie travels alone they say and so it proved today at Spurn.  Erm...sort of.  Well, not at all really.  So why am I telling you this?  The winds were right, a bit of cloud cover, could've done with a touch of drizzle but it still should've been better than it turned out. It's a strange spring here at Spurn peninsula.  I covered everywhere and I know that everywhere had already been covered, big hedge, clubley's, the narrows, chalk bank, point dunes, the triangle and all I had to show for it were 2 Cuckoo and a Whinchat.  So yeah, the biggie travels alone, apart from on this occasion the 'biggie' was an Icterine fucking Warbler!  Certainly not a biggie, but relatively speaking today, it was a biggie.  You see where I'm coming from?  No?  Oh well fuck you then. But then a Golden Oriole was found so there were now two 'relative biggies' which fucked up the theory of the biggie travelling alone.  So if two biggies travel alone but they're only relative biggies, then they can't have travelled alone, even though they're only biggies relative to the day's migrants, so therefore the biggie maybe does travel alone as these two aren't genuine biggies, so the theory remains intact but then I can't see where the theorum (?) applies to todays story.  Get it?  So today's title is "The Biggie Travels Alone", which I've already written it at the top of the page I'm looking at it right now, although we've just proved that that title isn't relevant to todays post so I'm gonna change it.  I could change it to anything.  Anything at all.  That title isn't relevant, so that means nothing has to be relevant.  Fuck it, I'm gonna change it to erm "Mr Kipling's Exceedingly Good Inflatable Cock Cakes".  There, I've done it.  I can do what I want.  In fact, I'm gonna change it again.  Just because I can.  Right then.  "Big Floppy Donkey Cocks".  There.  No, I don't like that one.  Something better, something to draw the punters in with.  Erm, "Birder Bill Oddie and His Amazing Ripe Bellender".   That'll do.  I've changed it.  There.  That should get people interested in this hopelessly drawn-out post.  This is now officially the longest paragraph in history. I'm not starting a new one, no way. Not now.  Not now I've got this far.  Just you try and make me.  The Icterine Warbler was impossible to see but sang intermittently and the Golden Oriole fucked off just as I arrived at canal hedge.  Great.  Join us next time for a new paragraph, but definately no explanation of how a bellend can be ripe. 

Your very own cut-out mask of Ian Beale.

Free for you to Save, Print and Wear.

..............

Jose

An afternoon jaunt to Spurn produced three Temminck's Stints up Beacon Ponds, one of which showed reasonably well on a spit on the first pond.  The other two were loitering on the next lagoon.  I don't care much for that lagoon.

A Bluethroat was seen in the morning.  But not since.  Bah.

Back home to watch the Champions League final with the Special One.  No, no!  Not the missus, you herberts, I havnee gan arl saft an' that pet.  Why the futting ell have Ah gan arl Geardie like?
No, I meant Jose Mourinho.
"We won....  Two to nil....  Zis eez what I expect...  I win...  Zat eez what I do...  Tactically, I was right.  Again...  Zat eez because I have ze biggest brain...  Out of everybody" said Jose in typical prose.

Eet eez here.  My brain.  I have zee biggest.

Out of everybody.

...............

Imagine that this is 17th May

Jesus Holy Mary Mother of God, I've missed out an entry!  Way, way back on the 17th May, I thought the following, and I imagined that one day I would post it on this blog.  Alas, I did not.  But today, it is here for you. And you alone:

Bearing in mind, I thought, that the last time I saw a Purple Heron in Britain was c.1990 near c.Doncaster and me being a manic crazy year-listing bad-ass, I thought I best go look at the one that had been frequenting Welwick saltmarsh.  So I did.  Look at it.  And it proved to be very good.  It showed very well for a sometimes-skulking-snakey-Heron-thing.  It appeared to my uneducated eye to be a first year bird, but how can that be?  It's very early in the year for it to be this years vagrant.  Unless Herons have a three-year cycle? So second cy (calendar year) then?

A Barn Owl was day-hunting and posing on fenceposts - just what Barn Owls do.

After all that excitement, I went to lonely Spurn where I saw a Whitethroat at the point!  A Whitethroat at the point!  Sing Hosannas in celebration!  Excuse my deep sarcasm, as it shows the disdain in which I hold this spring's poor showing for scarce and rare at the Spurn.  Red Rumped Swallow? Is that all you've got Spurn Point?  Damn you.  Damn you to eternal hell and may Satan's little wizards not have mercy on your unresting soul.  Blimey!

It wasn't for the want of trying today.  I even did the point dunes, somewhere where I don't often cover.  The upshot of it all was:
1 Blackcap
1 Lesser Whitethroat
1 Willow Warbler
Loads of Whitethroat and..........



..........wait for it.......




.......not a lot else.  I'm sorry if I disappointed you there.

I took some detailed field notes

(Above)

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