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)

Birds of East Kent: Snow Bunting

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.

Palm Bay, Margate, March 2012

The Snow Bunting is a regular winter visitor to Kentish shores, albeit never in huge numbers. They can pop up just about anywhere along the East Kent coastline, but the most reliable place to find them is along the shingle beaches at Reculver, foraging amongst the pebbles.

I like to think of this smart little bird as the "photographer's friend" because not only is it very photogenic, it can also be very approachable. But of course, a flock of birds is only as brave as its least brave member, and so the closest you get to a larger group of Snow Buntings (known collectively as a "drift") may be when they fly over your head to the other end of the beach - half an hour's walk in the direction you just came from. However, if you're fortunate enough to find a Snow Bunting by itself (no easy task, since they usually blend in very well with the pebbles) and don't make any sudden movements, it may allow you to get within a few feet. The bird pictured below was so confiding I had to back away just to keep it in focus.

Kingsgate Bay, Broadstairs, April 2011

In summer, when they return to their breeding grounds in the high Arctic, the Snow Buntings undergo a dramatic change, with the males turning almost completely white. Here in Kent, they're invariably gone before we see them reach this phase, but if you're lucky enough to catch a straggler you might see the white plumage starting to come through. Compare the difference between the one above (photographed in early spring) with the one below (taken in late autumn).

Reculver, November 2009

So the next time you go for a walk along the coast on a bracing winter's day, keep your eyes open for these charming little birds. They may be closer than you think.


See also:
More of my Snow Bunting photos on Flickr
Snow Bunting (RSPB)
Snow Bunting (Birdforum)

Sand Martin Colony at Bishopstone

Walking along the stretch of coast between Reculver and Herne Bay can feel like stepping into another world when you're used to the white chalk cliffs that otherwise dominate the East Kent coastline. Here, the cliffs are comprised of soft clay and sandstone, which leaves them very vulnerable to erosion - but also makes them the perfect habitat for Sand Martins to build their summer breeding homes.

The Collins Guide rather wonderfully describes the Sand Martin's call (an audio clip of which can be heard on the RSPB page) as "a dry voiceless rasp as from coarse sandpaper" - which seems appropriate when you consider their building material of choice. Although the Bishopstone colony is easy enough to locate, the birds themselves are not so easy to photograph as they fly in and out of their nest-holes like winged bullets. During a visit last week I witnessed the results of a mid-air collision as two semi-dazed Sand Martins slid halfway down the cliff before regaining their senses and immediately rejoining the others. Fortunately, such incidents are rare, and sometimes a lull in the action presents a photo opportunity:

Otherwise, trying to track individual birds in the midst of this aerial chaos is a big ask for even the fastest camera/lens combination, so the best technique would seem to be to set your focus slightly in front of the cliff and keep firing away until you get lucky. I'm not a great fan of this shoot-and-hope style of photography, but sometimes there's no other choice. Also, given that the cliffs (which are north-facing) are in shadow most of the day, you may find you'll need high ISOs to adequately freeze the action. And, as you'll be aiming above your head for prolonged periods, a tripod or monopod might help to take the strain off your arms. I hope I'm not making this process sound like an exercise in futility, but when you do get a shot worth keeping it can be a very rewarding experience.

Anyway, whether you're there to take photographs or to just enjoy the spectacle of a few dozen noisy hirundines flying over your head, the Sand Martin colony at Bishopstone is well worth a visit.

See also:
http://www.kentos.org.uk/Reculver/Reculverdetails.htm
http://www.birdforum.net/opus/Sand_Martin