Whitethroats and blackcaps

One of the unforeseen consequences of coronavirus lockdown, of being confined close to home and going on the same exercise walk almost every day over almost four months, is that I got to know the local migrant songbird population really well.

I first saw this whitethroat on early spring, very soon after it had first arrived, and after finding it and a consort in the same place over several days, was soon able to pinpoint the nest, under a bramble-covered drystone wall.

As spring progressed, they had nestlings to feed, and then I was able to watch the parent birds bringing back an endless supply of caterpillars, mostly caught in the oilseed rape field next to their nest, or in trees nearly.

It was the melodious song of blackcaps - 'the poor man's nightingale' - that first told be they had arrived. Initially they were hard to spot, skulking amongst the spring foliage of trees. But, hearing them from the same places day after day, I soon discovered their favourite song posts and, after a short wait, managed to get much better views.

Coronavirus lockdown: still more birds

In a normal year, spring would be the time that I would have visited many of the best wildlife locations here in northern England - the Lake District, Teesdale, Weardale, the Tyne valley, the Yorkshire Dales and the Northumberland and Yorkshire coasts. Instead, the coronavirus lockdown has confined me close to home, but it has been a real eye-opener. By following the same route around my local patch every morning, I've been able to watch spring unfold leaf by leaf, and have come to appreciate a the wealth of wildlife within one mile of home, here in the North Pennine foothills.

So, here are some birds seen within the last couple of weeks.

Blue tit, just at the moment when oak buds begin to burst

Singing male chaffinch. With so little traffic on the roads, hearing bird song so clearly every morning has been pure delight.

The calls of curlews in the pastures have been a constant accompaniment to early morning walks

I see magpies feeding on the ground in one of the smallholdings along my route

Cock pheasant

Perhaps the greatest, most uplifting joy has been the song of skylarks. Fine weather on most days has meant that they have been singing, high in a clear blue sky, I must pass at least a dozen pairs every morning.

Song thrush

I always knew there were yellowhammers here, but never realised there were so many.

There is a large pond hidden amongst the trees, which is where this pair of Canada geese will be nesting. Sometimes they graze in the pastures.

Partridges, like yellowhammers, are a red list species but they seem to be doing fairly well here. As the grass in the pastures grows taller they are becoming more difficult to spot. They spend quite a lot of time in an oilseed rape crop, where you can sometimes see them along the tractor wheelings.

A large muck heap, on the edge of one of the pastures, is a favourite place for pied wagtails to hunt flies.

I saw the first swallow in the third week of April but, nearly three weeks later they haven't arrived in large numbers yet.

A tree full of wood pigeons

I hear this blackbird singing every morning, but he rarely shows himself this clearly

Golden plovers in a sheep pasture. Surprise visitors, staying just one day on their way to breeding sites on the fells of Weardale.

Lapwings in the pastures now have eggs, so they become vociferous if anyone comes too close.

Whitethroat, nesting in brambles on the edge of an oilseed rape field.

One morning, I watched jackdaws plucking hairs from the winter coast of a horse, for use as nest lining

I'm seeing goldfinches more frequently, now that colt'sfoot and dandelion seeds are ripening -  favourite food items

One morning, I saw these linnets on the road ahead of me, collecting scraps of sheep wool for nest lining.

By early May many birds had nestlings to feed. This starling was collecting earthworms in a smallholding sheep pasture.


Some that got away:
Great spotted woodpecker - just a flypast, too quick for me
Goldcrest - early morning on a dull day, so no light and constantly moving
Oystercatcher - away in the distance in a field, probably on their way to breeding sites in Weardale
Sparrowhawk - too high, too fast