My Eyes Wide Open, I Feel a Breeze

6.45 am at Crab Tree Bog. De ja vu was striking as I pulled into the car park.

I had definitely been here before. In fact one week previously looking unsuccessfully for that Great Grey Shrike. Second time lucky perhaps?

There were plenty of Fallow Deer around, most intent on our presence.

And then not so much...

Crab Tree Bog is definitively that, a massive sponge absorbing rainfall and protecting the outlying areas from flooding whilst creating and supporting a rich biodiversity.

My friend Chris and I had met here at dawn to survey the area and most notably try to spot the Shrike or GGS as we affectionally call it.
In amongst the myriad of brooks, streams and ditches we heard a neanderthal call which we thought at first were frogs. They sounded a little different to the ones calling to their mates in my pond, so my secondary deduction were Toads. Eventually after a detailed search, we came across one warty little amphibian. I was hoping for a Natterjack Toad but the lack of yellow stripe down it's spine relegated it to a Common. Still good to see as Toads aren't as prevalent as frogs, certainly not where I live. They were proving a little elusive to photograph however.

Our circular walk here was drawing to a close when we spotted a Lapwing hidden in amongst the damp heathland. Quite possibly setting up territory ready for the arrival of Spring. Once again, still no GGS. After all, it's not a Zoo, this is the unpredictability of nature.

Next destination was Mark Ash Wood some three miles north from our current position. Chris was in need of a sighting of the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker I was fortunate enough to stumble across the previous weekend.
This is a good place to spot them and is a little pocket of woodland that has a great aesthetic to it.

The tiny unmarked car park usually gives up the sights and sounds of Stock Doves calling and displaying in the Beech tops. They didn't disappoint as we got out of the car. Their call is a resonating 'coo coo coo'. A call that resembles the beginning of a Howler Monkey sound we always think. Strange, but if you heard it, you'd know.

Being a predominantly Beech woodland, the Beech mast is a good food source for Chaffinches and the odd Brambling. The odd Brambling is a winter visitor and on our list to see today. I found one bathing in a muddy puddle on the forest floor. It shot up into the treetops a little bedraggled. Not the best of shots but a record shot nonetheless.

There was quite a lot of life in the trees today. Sometimes this place can be quiet to the point of indolence. It does depend on the time of day and also the weather conditions too.

Wrens are common here. Their scolding chatter can warn you of their presence, and yours too. Their song is one of the harbingers of Spring and always a favourite of mine.

The shapes through the trees can change in an instant with the light. The day was partly cloudy with interspersing sunlight, the remnants of autumn still obvious on the forest floor.

Defying our age difference, Chris's hearing is sharper to my tinnitus inhibited one and he picked up the shrill call of a Firecrest in the canopy. Once tuned in however, the concentration can take over and I could hear them with the right conditions. Little wind in the area and standing still which cuts out the noisy rustle of the leaf litter beneath our feet. 

One of my favourite little birds, and so is the overlooked Dunnock or Hedge Sparrow - which is a term that is beginning to die out. They have an understated beauty, reminiscent to me of a Gadwall. They also have a love life that can rival any spicy soap opera.

High above in their display grounds, the constant pitiful cry of Buzzards filled the air. More species setting up territories.... 

The contrasting deep colours of autumn were beginning to fade through the latter stages of winter with spring on the cusp. The golden leaf litter up through to the north facing moss covered beeches with south facing pale bark.

Our travels through the natural world take in some wonders throughout the year but there are always the regular points of focus we seek that draw out our admiration.
One particular static event narrows down to the base of an individual Beech tree in Mark Ash Wood, where a small clump of Narcissi emerge every February and March.
It's real suntrap in that spot facing south. They couldn't have been placed more perfectly if someone had physically planted them there. Maybe they had many moons ago when the tree was just a sapling or perhaps it is all just coincidental ? Either way, we are drawn to it every year, deep in the forest. A sort of pilgrimage if you will...  

New Forest  Ponies are an iconic symbol of this place. As we walked around there are many munching nonchalantly on the vegetation. Some look splendid in the sunlight.

Firecrests were everpresent. We picked up another pair zipping through the canopy. They move so fast, keeping and eye on them is difficult, especially with natural barriers creating a screen.

I do love Mark Ash Wood. A short walk here often produces a really positive experience.

Next up, about another three miles north - Acres Down is the 'Go-to' place in the Forest for me. If you need a place to encapsulate all that the New Forest is, in one snapshot, it's here. If I did a bioblitz, it would be off the scale. Not just birdlife but the chain that permeates throughout the whole.

The Woodlark I had seen last week, Chris was wanting a piece of the action.
They weren't singing as profusely as then, if at all ,but we managed to locate one through deduction and the occasionally reliable 'Luck'

The individual I had seen last week was singing from above but today they were quiet and feeding on the ground. Their brilliant camouflage making it difficult to spot on the deck. With patience and stealth, we found one.

As per the majority of our bird species, this one is in stupendous decline. Habitat loss being a huge factor amongst others. This area of heathland, dotted with low scrub and bushes being a perfect space for them. Insect life playing a huge part in their survival.

Being at he very top of Acres Down, it goes without saying - you must scan the horizon for Goshawks. Eagle-eyed Chris was first to clap eyes on a distant one.
We've heard stories of Goshawks flying close through the valley here. I've yet to witness that but the two we were fixed on did seem to be gliding closer. I've definitely heard that line before....

Zooming in did help but they did seem to be coming closer. The definitive tail shape and rounded wing pattern were a dead giveaway.

These are hardcore forest predators. They live in the town streets in Germany but our race seem to prefer the secrecy of forests in localised locations such as here. Maybe if they were as common as Buzzards we wouldn't bat an eyelid. Their habits deep out of reach in the depths of the wood give them a place among the untouchables.

The lower path beckoned through the woodland.
Halfway down it I pinpointed a male Crossbill to Chris high in the Fir trees.

Along the woodland rides, Song Thrush fed without a care for our presence. It's always perturbing when birds operate so close to humans without fear.

Our final destination was to be Eyeworth Pond in Fritham.
An old man made pond that once powered a local mill, now serves as a unique nature reserve. It's most famous inhabitants are imported Mandarin Ducks that thrive in this partially wooded enclave.

The male was keeping a close eye on his mate once they broke cover.

These beautiful wildfowl were imported from Asia into selected parts of Europe. The Chinese see them as a symbol of wedded bliss and fidelity, the Koreans see similar along with the symbol of peace and plentiful offspring. In Japan they are seen as much the same. I can see why...

There is a wonderful pub close by plus only a few houses and farm. The locals put out food for the woodland birds which have grown used to human contact. These Marsh Tits were very confiding.

We left just as the sun appeared for the last time before sunset.
Another enjoyable day in this amazing national park.

The title of this post is a line taken from the song 'The Chinese Way' by Level 42

You Know The Sun Shines, Hotter Than Ever Before

Spring was unusually warm this year. A high of twenty degrees seemed impossible.

The blossom, birdsong and bursting of life seemed everywhere all of a sudden..

But, hang on, lets rewind a little bit. It's only the middle of February and we are still on the emphasis of the southern hemisphere and still in Winter here in the Northern. That can't be right ?

That didn't deter the forty plus frogs jumping into our wildlife pond to procreate. Although any time from January to February can see the start of their life cycle but usually March has them in full swing...quite literally !
Males swarm over the females in hope of a brief coupling to fertilise the spawn that was growing larger by the day.

The pond was alive with writhing bodies. Move too quick and they would disappear in an instant. So I crept up slowly on my stomach to capture them - surface level.

The males were letting out low long gutteral notes which were easy to copy. I got many responses when I called them. Their air sacks in their throats expanded wonderfully as they did so..

The warm weather was staying with us over the weekend which made for perfect - if not a little concerning - chances at walks out and about.
On the Saturday I left early for a mixed day out on my own. Sarah was out for the day, my friend Chris was having a family day in Lymington, so the world was my oyster..
So many choices to fit into eight hours.

First stop was to the derelict Fort Cumberland at Eastney near Southsea, on the Portsmouth peninsular.
There had been reports of a Black Redstart and Little Owls around the fort next to the beach.

The owls were easy to find, sitting like sentinels in the holes of the old fort wall, snoozing in the sun.
Although some distance away, I managed to zoom in through the chain link fence.
This place is earmarked for development, so how long they can call this place home is open to question.   

The Black Redstart remained elusive, although on the beach below me from the sea wall there were a dozen Sanderling feeding in their clockwork toy style business.

I gave up on the Redstart, which ironically would turn up again the following week. Such is nature, completely unpredictable at times but ultimately engaging.

Next stop, it was onto the M27 and West to the heart of the New Forest.
As I reached Crab Tree Bog near Brockenhurst, the temperature gauge in the van nudged 20 degrees, quite unbelievable. I tapped the readout on the dash in the hope it was playing up and drop the twelve degrees to the normal temperature expected at this time of year.

The light through the trees was very impressive though as I stepped from the van and crossed the road over onto the heathland. I was wearing a fleece but I could have easily been in my T-shirt and shorts.  

My main focus of this walk was to try to find a rare Great Grey Shrike that often inhabits open heathland in the forest through Autumn and Winter. Also known as the butcher bird as it has been known to hang it's prey on thorns to cache them. Most of the time when I have seen them they have consumed their prey which consists of anything from insects through to small birds.

Passing Brimstone and Peacock Butterlies added to the fact of the above average temperatures impacting behaviour. As is common, seeing one alight for any length of time for a photograph proved problematic.

As I moved slowly across the heath, the sparse gorse vegetation provided perfect vantage points for Stonechats. This male and his mate who was nearby had evidently paired up in a territory ready for the coming breeding season. I had witnessed several species doing so over the last few days. The normal flocking activities of Winter were beginning to subside as the urge to breed took over.

Through the gap in the trees I could make out the grandiose Rhinefield House Hotel shimmering in the heat haze.

I followed my map along a circular route which took in Holm Hill overlooking Crab Tree Bog. A great viewpoint to catch anything in the distance. Still no Shrike but in the foreground another Brimstone flitted around me and eventually landed long enough for some decent close ups. This is a male which has yellow/green underwings whereas the female is much lighter in colour, almost white at times.
Happy with at least a decent shot of this beautiful insect just out of hibernation I descended the hill back to the car park. No Shrike again but my luck will change at some point. That is my fervent hope anyway !

Still, it was a promising new site for me in the New Forest and the light through the trees by the car park gave some wonderful shades, textures and colours.

And right on cue, a New Forest pony sauntered across the river before me.

It was only just past lunchtime, so time was on my side. The days were edging slowly longer giving extra walking hours.
My next stop was just a few miles North, back to our favoured spot that is Acres Down.
There is a great circular walk here taking in the spectacular views from the top of the down to the depths of the forest itself and down to the river.
I left the car park and took the steep slope to the hilltop first.
Top of the list here were Woodlark, Goshawk and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker - New Forest specialists.
The former breed on the hill and are usually a safe bet to view and photograph, I say that lightly as my track record today wasn't too good so far !

The latter are more 'Willo-the Wisp' like in character. Normally heard calling or drumming (Especially at this time of year) but difficult to see, largely because of it's size and propensity to flit around the high treetops.
The Goshawk is one huge success story in this forest, but this secretive raptor - similar to a Sparrowhawk in looks but almost twice the size - hunts deep in woodland and is best seen displaying high above the canopy from elevated sites such as this, albeit from a considerable distance. This time of year is perfect as they display over their breeding grounds.
From the viewpoint overlooking vast swathes of the forest I could pick out an occasional Goshawk above the horizon but they remained distant specks.

Then the unmistakable sweet warbling of a Woodlark filtered through from a distance behind me. I followed my ears, gradually growing closer to the source, my eyes searching every treetop and shrub looking for the owner of a song maybe just second best to it's cousin the Skylark, but beautiful either way.

I searched all over but although it seemed close, it also seemed far away for some strange reason. Then it clicked. I knew they serenaded their territory from the sky sometimes, like their cousin, so my attention turned to directly above me. Once my focus had adjusted to a brown spec in the blue, I was locked onto it's fluttering melodic chatter...

This seemingly energy sapping display can go on for some minutes as this individual demonstrated.
Then literally, out the blue, they descend rapidly like a raptor diving on prey.

Allowing - with a little patience - some intimate views of this aerial and vocal gymnast on the ground.

 

Although the sun was ahead of me, I managed some half decent shots of this quite rare and localised gem with it's crest raised.
I spent a good hour watching, listening and photographing about three individuals. It was difficult to draw myself away, I kept starting to leave but kept getting sucked back when another struck up a song from above.

The day was lengthening, so I had to carry on to the lower path back to the car park before it grew too dark.
A sculptured love heart on the side of the hill was a warming piece of art someone had taken the time to piece together as I hit the forest. Perhaps an omen for the next and last section of my walk today ?

There are many times as you walk through the woods here you can get startled by the ponies stood chomping at the foliage. There are also donkeys too. Almost always seen in pairs or more, as they crave company.

Although the sun was getting lower, the sky was still a lovely pastel blue, providing a great backdrop to the beeches that reminded me of Baobab trees in Africa.

The sun was just about to be lost into a distant bank of cloud and so the light that had been so good all day was diminishing.
The trees were still full of all sorts of birds however. A small flock of Tits followed me in the trees by the path.

Then an unmistakable silhouette shot across my vision. I knew it was the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker I had craved by it's behaviour and size, but it remained in front of the light, so my chance of a decent shot was fading with the sun.

Then as all hope seemed lost, it flew across into the opposite canopy and into the light, incredibly followed by another !

Although my exposure was set too low I had no choice but to rattle off several shots before it left abruptly.

This was the best I could muster in the fading light although I had to lighten the picture afterwards.

Once a very common bird, this Sparrow sized woodpecker has declined markedly while it's larger Great Spotted cousin has boomed. So it is always great to see. The New Forest is a stronghold for them thankfully but along with patience, luck plays a huge role, as it did here.

Then after some ten seconds, they shot off some distance leaving me with a broad smile across my face. I punched the air with delight. Maybe the omen came to fruition?

The last few hundred yards to the car park at the end of the day were easy after that sighting, the smell off the recently felled pine trees filled my nostrils as I bounced up the hill with happiness.
I hadn't seen all I wanted to today but the unexpected is part and parcel of the experience. 

The next day being a Sunday was a day of rest at home. The weather was still unrelenting warmth. Our cherry blossom was the best in our garden we had known. Usually with the amount of birds that visit here, the buds are taken before they have a chance to bloom.

One of the first Butterflies to emerge are Red Admirals. They used to be migratory only but with climate change many are overwintering as adults here. It's quite possible this had arrived from the continent however, what with the warm southerlies.

With the fabulous colour of the sky, it set off the contrast of the insect and the blossom perfectly, so I indulged myself for an hour or so. The Admiral stayed around all day.

I had another unexpected visitor to the garden too. A male Reed Bunting hung around for a couple of days. I hadn't seen one here for years. They are common at the nature reserve down the road but have adapted to visit garden bird feeders.

My last sojourn for the weekend was a walk down the road to the sea to capture the sunset.
The willow buds had begun their emergence on Browndown heath there. Spring was definitely just around the corner even though this unprecedented weather had lulled us into a false sense of it's arrival. Strange days indeed.

The title of this post is a line taken from the track ' The Rape of the World' by Tracy Chapman
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rPrGB-1lYkg