Wednesday, 1 May 2019

The Last of the Nightingales

On Sunday afternoon at least 5 male Yellow Wagtails were back on territory around Sunk Island. A morning visit would probably yield even more. This one obliged by taking a bath in a newly arrived puddle by the side of the road. For a change no other vehicle disturbed its ablutions!
 Male Yellow Wagtail
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On Monday I travelled the 54 miles to Whisby to try and see the Nightingales. Apparently, only one singing bird is present. After half an hour it burst into song, and luckily I wasn’t too far away. Unfortunately, from where I was its face was obscured with new greenery. However, 6 other people were better placed, and I could hear their cameras snapping away. One of them who goes every day came over to see if the view was better where I was, but soon returned to his original position, because that was a better view. After a while the Nightingale moved slightly, and I was able to obtain an unobscured view. Suddenly this local photographer who I’ve seen every other visit I’ve ever made in previous years invaded my personal space, and I thought he merely intended to take a photo standing right next to me, but oh no, he actually expected me to concede my view to him. He did the equivalent of elbowing me out of the way, and I left in disgust. He’s one of those people who is never satisfied with his view. The notice asks photographers not to stand in the same place too long, but he was there before I arrived, and was there when I left, and I’ve no doubt he will visit on a daily basis until this individual ceases singing, putting these birds under unnecessary pressure. I’m sure he’ll never be satisfied with his photos. 
Nightingale
 Nightingale
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As I walked away from the Nightingale an inconspicuous brown bird hopped out on to a bare branch and it stayed there for nearly 10 seconds, which was just enough time to snatch this photo. It remained completely silent, but it’s lack of strong features (eyestripe, coloured cap and wing-bar) show that this is a Garden Warbler, which usually skulks in thick vegetation. It’s probably the best Garden Warbler I’ve ever photographed. Quite a nice compensation for the rude local man! 
Garden Warbler
On the return from Whisby I attempted to wipe away the unpleasant taste of the photographer by stopping off at MSQ.  A Cuckoo was calling and a Red-Crested Pochard flew past. 
Red-Crested Pochard
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Newt
Forget-me-Not

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