Birds of East Kent: Wheatear

Latest in an occasional series of posts discussing the different birds that can be found in East Kent and how easy (or not) it is to get a decent picture of them.

North Foreland, Broadstairs, September 2012

Supposedly named for the white rump it shows during flight (Wheatear = "white arse", geddit?), the Northern Wheatear (to give it its full title) is perhaps East Kent's best example of a passage migrant. We see them twice a year: once in springtime when they stop off on their way to their breeding grounds, and again in autumn as they prepare to make the long journey back to sub-Saharan Africa.

Appearance-wise, they're hard to confuse with any other bird. The spring male in its full breeding plumage is a particularly impressive sight with its dark chocolate-brown wings, blue-grey back, black eye-mask and peach-coloured flush on its breast and throat.

Bishopstone, Reculver, April 2010

Wheatears are fairly easy birds to locate, as they can be seen just about anywhere along the coast during the peak of the spring and autumn migrations. The rocks at Bishopstone are usually a reliable place to look, as are the scrubby cliff-tops and strips of grass between North Foreland and Foreness.

In some years, if the weather keeps them grounded, they can build up to impressive numbers as they gather along the coast. I remember one autumn afternoon when they were literally popping up out of every bush I passed as I walked from King George VI park to Broadstairs. (I suppose this was the Wheatear equivalent of Operation Stack.)

However, getting close enough to acquire a decent photo requires a little forethought. Although Wheatears spend a lot of their time on the ground, they frequently fly up to the nearest available perch to see what's going on around them. One method (a trick I learned from observing similar behaviour in Stonechats) is to advance quickly while they're feeding and immediately freeze as soon as they fly to their perch. It may take a while, but with practice and persistence you should be able to get very close indeed. Another method is to observe if they're moving in a particular direction and surreptitiously get ahead of them. Then it's a matter of keeping still as they work their way towards you. (And of course not making making the schoolboy error of suddenly raising your camera.)

Viking Bay, Broadstairs, October 2011

Wikipedia lists 21 other species of Wheatear, a couple of which occasionally make it to British shores. But considering how far these birds travel, it's a privilege to see even the regular ones.

See also:
More of my Wheatear photos on Flickr
Wheatear (RSPB)
Wheatear (Birdforum)
Wheatear (Birdguides)

Marbled Whites

The weather may have suggested otherwise, but we're coming to the end of high summer; that time of year when the birds lie low to recover from the breeding season and - in some cases - ready their wings for the great autumn migration. It's also the time of year when some photographers moan about having nothing to photograph ... as they brush the butterflies away from their lenses.

One highlight of the summer months is the elegantly beautiful Marbled White (Melanargia galathea). Intermediate in size between the small blues and the attention-grabbing Peacocks and Red Admirals, it's easily distinguished by the unmistakable black-and-white checkerboard pattern on its wings. It looks particularly striking when perched on one of its favourite nectar sources, purple knapweed:

The Marbled White isn't rare as British butterflies go, but due to its preference for unimproved grassland you'll almost never see one in a typical garden. Fortunately the person (or persons) responsible for naming it had a finer appreciation for its aesthetic qualities, otherwise it might well have ended up being called the Pied Butterfly.

A closer examination reveals a hint of colour amongst all the black and white - pale blue dots on the underwing:

Of course, a telescope is no substitute for a good quality macro lens when it comes to photographing the small stuff; even with extension tubes in place, the closest I can get to a butterfly and still keep it in focus is about nine feet, but that's no reason not to have a go (and at least I know I'm not disturbing it). And, with the draw-tube racked all the way out, the depth of field is so shallow it's easier to adjust focus simply by rocking backwards and forwards slightly.

The cliff-top wildflower meadow where these photos were taken also plays host to grasshoppers, crickets, Meadow Browns, Gatekeepers, the distinctive Six-spot Burnet and little orange skippers (though I couldn't tell you if they're of the Small or Essex variety).

See more of my Marbled White photos on Flickr

Sea, Wind and Fire

I don't make a habit of going out with the camera at 4:30 in the morning and I especially don't make a habit of pointing a telescope at the sun, but this particular shot's been on my mind for a while.

 

Distance to the Thanet wind-farm: approximately 7 miles.
Distance to the sun: approximately 93 million miles.

It may not be as newsworthy as the Venus transit but I was fortunate enough to catch a sunspot group (visible towards the right-hand side of the sun's disc). This is AR1504 (AR standing for Active Region) and it was the source of some significant flare activity recently, as shown in this video from NASA's Solar Dynamic Observatory (SDO).

You'll also notice that the sun is distinctly flattened in this photo. I would offer an explanation, but why go to all that trouble when there's already a perfectly good one available on the excellent Atmospheric Optics website? A warning though before you visit this site: "Checklist" photographers (you know who you are) may be compelled to invest in a brand new set of wide-angle lenses after seeing examples of the full range of weird and wonderful phenomena that can grace our skies.

The Company of Kestrels

Getting sharp photos of birds in flight is difficult enough with conventional lenses, let alone with a manual-focus telescope, which is why - as much as I appreciate Marsh Harriers, Sparrowhawks, Hobbies, Buzzards and the like - Kestrels will always be my favourite bird of prey.

I saw this handsome specimen working the cliff-top at North Foreland, but I had to follow it all the way to Kingsgate Bay before I got the shot I was looking for (above). It then proceeded to tail me all the way back to Stone Bay. A case of a raptor using a photographer to flush out potential prey? Wishful thinking on my part perhaps, but it's nice to imagine that it wasn't just me who got something out of the encounter.

Now if only other birds could master the art of hovering in one spot...

Whimbrel at Kingsgate Bay

Today saw a brand new bird for me in the shape of a Whimbrel. First reported yesterday by Simon Mount on the Planet Thanet website, it had relocated to Kingsgate Bay where it was feeding on the dry part of the beach. It was a little wary, but its "circle of approachability" (for want of a better expression) was a lot smaller than any Curlew I've ever tried to photograph. By keeping low and moving slowly, I was able to get close enough to secure some pleasing shots in the excellent conditions (the forecast rain didn't arrive until the afternoon).

Other birds noted today included a pair of Shelducks and a Peregrine Falcon at North Foreland, and lots of noisy Linnets moving around the area.