Green Sand in the Dyke

It's not every day you get one of these at the bottom of the garden.

Well, I was all set to sit down this evening and compose a post about my mountain of courgettes. But this idea has been somewhat overtaken by events.




Wednesday 22nd August 2012
You can just make out a Marsh Harrier on an early morning foray (just left of the sun)

Running my smallholding takes up 90% of my time, but every now and then I drop everything for a bird. It may be one that flies through the garden, it may be one on some far-flung island which presents a logistical nightmare and requires a Herculean effort to get to.

Here on my fenland smallholding things have been hotting up on the bird front for a couple of weeks now. It started with an arrival of Willow Warblers which seem to pass through at this time of year. One was around the pond again this morning. The Swallows have been entertaining me early morning and evening, gathering in flocks of up to a couple of hundred with the adults teaching their young how to fly ahead of their hazardous migration.
I watched one make its first flight from the nest the other day, flitting around the stables and eventually settling on a hay rack with its siblings.

The finches have been forming their winter flocks too, families of goldfinches joining together in their jingle-jangling flight. This morning I witnessed the first mixed flock of the autumn, with Chaffinches and Linnets joining the Goldfinches.
But for a spectacle nothing can rival the sheer numbers of Black-headed Gulls which have been coming and going over the farm this last couple of days. This happens every year when the farmer runs the harrow over the straw that remains from the harvest. There must have been three thousand of them today, with just a few Common Gulls and even fewer Lesser-Black-Backed Gulls mixed in. I spent about an hour scanning through them hoping for something rarer, but not to be.

The bare fields show the birds now, so it makes a change to be able to see bemused partridges and pheasants which, till now, have just exploded from a few yards in front and skimmed the crops before disappearing again.
A young Buzzard has been taking advantage too, for two days now perched on the ground along the dyke, picking off any prey which makes the mistake of breaking cover..

Other excitement today, and very relevant to this birdy post, was the appearance of this monster machine which munched its way along the Lambert Drain, the dyke which runs across the bottom of my land. I pay the grand sum of £28 a year land drainage rates for this. It protects my land and the whole fenland area from falling under water, so a worthwhile expense!

Lambert Drain after the digger.

So, onto the main event.

Birders will interpret the title of this post differently to my other visitors, for the dyke was not indeed filled with green sand, rather brown, gooey mud. And I know this because I climbed down into it this evening.

And what on earth possessed me to do this?

Birding is a funny old game, full of fate and chance. Early this morning I was looking through my bird records from the farm for last year and I noted that a family of Grey Herons used to fly in every evening. I wondered whether the cold, wet breeding season had hit them hard, since I've only seen lone birds so far this year. But, right on cue, this evening I picked up four herons lumbering their way across the fields with their heavy, deep wingbeats. A welcome return. Above them wheeled a flock of about 100 Golden Plover, a winter visitor to the area. This is the first time I have seen these since they departed earlier in the year.

I worked late this evening under a glorious orange sky, but at some time past 7 my attention was diverted by a heron which rose from the dyke and headed away. It appeared very brown, though I suspected it was just a Grey Heron, possibly a dark, young bird strangely lit by the setting sun. I quickly forgot about it and continued with my work, but about 20 minutes later it dropped back into the dyke. I decided that this would be a good time to put away my tools and make the 300m trip to the end of the land to investigate further. I knew that as soon as I peered over into the dyke the heron would take flight. There was no avoiding this. I tried to break the skyline away from where ithad flown in, but it must have walked along the dyke in the meantime as it flew up just to my right. It was a Grey Heron, looking very smart in the evening light.
But at almost the same time a small wader flew up, calling, just to my right, no more than ten yards away. I knew instantly from its contrasty plumage and gleaming white rump, as well as the call, that it was a Green Sandpiper, the green sand in the dyke! It settled back further along the dyke which is when I climbed down and discovered quite how gooey it was down there! But it was worth it, for this was

Farm Tick 101!!

Yes, a new bird for the farm and for the patch, the eighth wader for the farm.  If it hadn't been for the beautiful sunset making that Grey Heron look a little strange, I would probably have remained totally oblivious to this passing gem.
I shall definitely be checking the dyke out a bit more now, as the newly exposed mud presents a rich feeding area for birds.

Oh, by the way, come back tomorrow if you want to find out all about my mountain of courgettes!