Limosa - Birdwatching and Wildlife Hoildays Worldwide

Thu 17th June 2010 - Sutton Heath (Suffolk): This was the 14th in our series of half-day guided BirdWalks, led this time by Peter Kennerley, Brian Small, and Chris & Barbara Kightley. If you're planning to join us on another of our walks later this year (click here for forthcoming dates and details), or are just curious to know what we saw, here's how we got on:

An evening meeting this time for our Sutton Heath BirdWalk, gathering for a 7.00pm start beneath an encouragingly fine and bright if rather breezy sky. This was our first visit to the area, Peter’s local patch, so there was a general air of expectation and anticipation all round.

Greenfinch, Goldfinch, Blackbird and Collared Dove started the ball rolling, the former including a handsome male singing from a lofty perch in a Cypress. The first of a pretty much constant procession of Herring Gulls drifted lazily overhead as we set off along the broad access track. Swift and House Martin were also numerous in the skies, with Chaffinch and Yellowhammer putting on an excellent show down below. A Coal Tit zipped overhead, followed shortly after by a bounding Green Woodpecker; the latter returned a few minutes later and attached itself to the trunk of a squat Silver Birch before reversing down in characteristically jerky fashion and disappearing from sight behind a veil of bracken.

Pausing by the start of the trail across the heath, we soon added Magpie, Lesser Black-backed Gull and Woodpigeon, as well as the silvery cascade of Willow Warbler and a burst of song from a Wren. We hadn’t got far along the heathland path before a Hobby put in an appearance, wheeling over the heather and pines and stooping dramatically in pursuit of dragonflies. It proved to be the first of three or four excellent encounters during the course of the walk, with some unexpected and wonderful views of this breathtakingly agile and smartly dressed heathland predator.

There was plenty to entertain us in between the thrilling performances put on by the Hobby over the next couple of hours. Brian spotted a distant Marsh Harrier in the far distance, a pair of Whitethroats was watched collecting food in a small oak, a couple more Coal Tits popped up briefly, and Yellowhammers and Chaffinches seemed to be everywhere, including several pairs feeding noisy young. Black-headed Gull, Mistle Thrush, Carrion Crow and Rook were also ‘new’.

Driven by a stiffening northerly breeze, banks of dull grey cloud began to roll in. With the wind up their tails, a couple of Long-tailed Tits shot overhead as we passed beneath some pines to emerge at a junction in the path. Peter (Spandler) drew everyone’s attention to a small bird that was making regular sallies to the ground from a nearby fenceline, and soon we were all enjoying some fine views of a male Redstart. After a bit, the bird flew up and disappeared from sight behind a broken limb in a nearby Scots Pine, emerging on top of the bough moments later to show off its smart black throat and rust-red chest. There was clearly a nest hole hidden from our gaze on the backside of the bough, for it wasn’t long before the female Redstart appeared on the scene too.

Just as we were debating which track to take next, a couple of Little Owls began yelping at one another a little way to the east of us. We set off along the ride, hoping to see them, but to no avail. A Pheasant sprinted away from us, a Red-legged Partridge ‘chuffed’ away in the distance, a Dunnock jangled and our only Kestrel of the evening hovered above the power lines. Peter (K) called ‘Marsh Harrier!’ but it was almost immediately lost from sight behind a belt of trees.

A check of the watch and it was time to head back for a quick coffee and cake break. Three superb Fallow Deer, with dappled coats and antlers just beginning to ‘bud’, stood motionless, watching us from woodland edge. As we exited the heath, a party of at least 14 Mistle Thrushes, including several scaly juveniles, made their way from tree to tree. Back at the car park, a few Blackbirds went about their business as we went about ours, tucking eagerly into teas, coffees, Walnut cake, Victoria sponge and Chris’s much talked about plum slice.

By 9.20pm, the skies were very grey and the light was already fading fast. The wind had steadily picked up, and it had become quite chilly too. Hardly ideal conditions for Nightjar spotting, but it was at least dry. Out on the heath, a distant Robin broke into evening song. Undeterred by the weather, we didn’t have to wait long for the first Nightjar to start up, a very alert Peter S. again being the first to draw our attention to the bird. It was ‘churring’ intermittently, off a little way to our right. We waited patiently, listening with hands cupped behind ears to amplify the sound that was not only being carried away from us by the wind but also drowned out by the irritating and untimely arrival of a squadron of Apache assault helicopters! Several minutes passed before we detected the first tell-tale ‘coo-ick’ call from a bird somewhere in flight... and, suddenly, a male Nightjar was flying straight towards us! Though dull, there was still a reasonable amount of daylight as the bird jinked and dipped in flight, before passing right beside us to reveal the brilliant white wing-flashes for those with forethought - and reactions quick enough! - to raise their bins. Mission accomplished!

Though we gave it another thirty minutes or so, hearing up to perhaps three different churring birds from various points about us on the heath, the merest glimpse of another bird was our only other sighting. But then we were hardly likely to better the initial encounter and, as Peter observed, the real magic of ‘Nightjaring’ is actually not seeing them but hearing their curious song so evocative of Britain’s southern heathlands. It may have been a relatively small bird list (32 species recorded) tonight, but it was one that was perfectly formed!