J is for Jackdaw

Jackdaw (Corvus monedula)

It wouldn’t be right to obsess about birds without mentioning a corvid (member of the crow family). Renowned in science for their incredible intelligence and behaviour and in fiction for the folklore they are steeped in.

Of the large, black birds in the genus Corvus, the jackdaw is one of the most recognisable*. It is the smallest of the lot, with a grey bobble head, black cap, pearly white eye and of course it’s distinctive yapping call. They can be found pretty much everywhere except the barren highlands, both as townies and farmland birds, where they are one of the few species benefitting from large intensive fields. They sometimes visit gardens, especially during the breeding season and winter when there is pressure to find food¹.

The Jackdaw’s name attracts a lot of interest since it includes a human one. It is usually explained as imitating their call, but the name is also used to refer to small stature such as the jack snipe (Lymnocryptes minimus).  The ‘daw’ part has a linguistic meaning, referring to ‘someone in low esteem’ possibly due to being common,  and given to thieving precious objects ² (though ‘stealing’ is only practiced by captive corvids).

Like other corvids, jackdaws will eat pretty much anything. Though their stubby beak prevents them probing the soil like other Corvus, it is a powerful tool . I have seen them smashing open conker (Aesculus hippocastanum) shells. They do eat the eggs and young of other birds occasionally, and are apparently useful for controlling feral pigeons in this way³.On garden feeders they can be surprisingly acrobatic.

An acrobatic jackdaw on our fat ball feeder last winter

Jackdaw life revolves around the social scene. They live in flocks, foraging, flying, roosting and nesting together in groups which are often entertaining to watch. Esther Woolfston, admirer of corvids describes how they “dive with their black and sinuous flight, swoop, loop and spiral” through castle ruins⁴ . Within these groups there is a complex social hierarchy, and these interactions were studied very early on, in the 1930’s by Konrad Lorenz. He found that whilst bachelors are dominant over spinsters, females gain equal status as their mates once they pair up.  Individuals use this strict hierarchy, coupled with a varied body language to avoid physical fighting and dominant males often act as peacekeepers⁵.  If a fight does break out, the whole colony gets excited and surrounds them like children at a playground tussle⁶.

The advantage of group living for jackdaws is beyond simple safety in numbers. Group members actively look out for each other. If one is grabbed by a predator, the rest will bear down on the enemy, cawing angrily⁶. Even the passing resemblance of a fluttering black plastic bag to a struggling jackdaw can provoke them⁷. One of their main predators are female Sparrowhawks (Accipiter nisus), which can just about restrain one jackdaw let alone an angry flock.

 Like other corvids, jackdaws mate for life and pairs always stick together, even within the larger flock. They share nesting duties equally, and feed and preen one another. Remarkably, unlike many other ‘monogamous’ birds, Jackdaws don’t cheat on their partners, even though they have plenty of flock mates to choose from⁸ (Male rooks Corvus frugilegus, by contrast, regularly take advantage of neighbouring nesting females)⁹. Young jackdaws even generously offer food to their peers, which helps them make friends¹⁰.

Jackdaws may even be social towards other species. They often roost together with rooks, and the resulting evening flocks are a spectacle of sight and sound. Underlying these are strict rules governing the position of the species and individuals¹¹. Fascinatingly, I met a birdwatcher  who claimed he had seen inter-species play of ‘catch the stick’ between rooks and jackdaws^ᵻ.

The only time Jackdaws show real hostility is when nesting. They nest in holes, a naturally scarce resource, so there is intense competition between pairs. This year’s ‘Springwatch’ focused on a Jackdaw nest that another pair were determinedly trying to oust by harassing the chicks and stealing nesting material. They commonly nest in boxes meant for owls or kestrels (Falco tinnunculus , and will doggedly defend their spot against them.  Most famously, they will use chimney pots, dropping down sticks until they form a platform, one pile measured 2.4m across and 1m high¹. See one here.

Astounding footage of a Jackdaw tenaciuosly defending a next box against a Kestrel that wants it for itself.

With a complex social life and pugnacious attitude, the Jackdaw is definitely deserving of higher esteem than its name suggests. It has been a fascinating bird to research.

*The genus also includes the raven C.corax, Carrion crow C.corone, Hooded crow C.cornix and the Rook C.frugilegus in the UK.

^ᵻ This is not implausible, there are lots of observations of corvids playing.

References

1-BTO (2012). The Crow next ‘daw’: Jackdaw. BirdTable. Available from: http://www.bto.org/sites/default/files/shared_documents/gbw/associated_files/bird-table-70-jackdaw-article.pdf

2- Fransesca Greenoak. (1979) All the Birds of the Air. A. Brown and Sons.

3- Percy Trett. (No date) Jackdaw. Birds of Britain. Available from:  http://www.birdsofbritain.co.uk/bird-guide/jackdaw.asp

4- Esther Woolfston. (2008) Corvus: A Life with Birds. Granta Publications.

5- Konrad Lorenz . (1931) Beiträge zur ethologie sozialer Corvidae. Journal of Ornithology  80, 50-98. Cited by: A. Röell. (1978) Social Behaviour of the Jackdaw, Corvus monedula, in Relation to Its Niche. Behaviour,  64 (1/2), 1-124. Available from: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4533862

6-A. Röell. (1978) Social Behaviour of the Jackdaw, Corvus monedula, in Relation to Its Niche. Behaviour,  64 (1/2), 1-124. Available from: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4533862
      - (A thorough Paper on Jackdaws and their social behaviour)

7- Konrad Lorenz. (1952). King Solomon’s Ring: New Light on Animal Ways. (Translated from the German by Marjorie Kerr Wilson). Clay and Company, Suffolk.

8- Auguste M. P. von Bayern, Selvino R. de Kort, Nicola S. Clayton and Nathan J. Emery. (2007) 733The role of food- and object-sharing in the development of social bonds in juvenile jackdaws (Corvus monedula). Behaviour, 144 (6), 711- 733. Available from: http://www.jstor.org/stable/4536473

9- Dominic Couzens. (2012) Garden Birds Confidential. Bounty Books.

10- I. G. Henderson, P. J. B. Hart, and T. Burke. (2000). Strict monogamy in a semi-colonial passerine: the Jackdaw Corvus monedula. Journal of Avian Biology, 31 (2), 177–182.
Mentioned by:  Dominic Couzens. (2012) Garden Birds Confidential. Bounty Books.


11- University of Exeter. (2013). How birds of different feathers flock together. Available from: http://www.exeter.ac.uk/news/research/title_271250_en.html 

I is for Icterine Warbler

Icterine warbler (Hippolais icterina).

The icterine warbler only just about classifies as a British Bird, but there is a severe shortage of natives beginning with ‘I’. It is a passage visitor (stops off on migration) and scarce migrant breeder in Britain.  It is usually found on the mainland in Western, Central and Northern Europe, all the way up to subarctic Russia. It is therefore surprising that Icterine warblers do not breed on our temperate isles more regularly. Perhaps crossing the waters of  the channel and the North Sea are just a little too much of a stretch on their exhausting  migration.  Although like many of our migrants the icterine warbler winters in sub-saharan Africa, it is excluded from the Mediterranean by its close and similar relative, the Melodious warbler (Hippolais polyglotta), which is also an occasional visitor to Britain.

Icterine warblers look as if they have been completely washed with yellow, including their greyish-green back.  The clue is in the name, as The name icterine means “yellowish’. This distinguishes them from our more common phylloscopid or leaf warblers, the Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita), Willow  warbler (P. trochilus)and Wood warbler (P.sibilatrix), which are more greeny brown and only partly yellowed.
But icterine warblers don’t just have pretty looks, they also have a great voice. Their long, loud,  babbling, eclectic and almost electric song seems to carry on forever. To add to the song’s complexity, it sometimes also incorporates mimicry of other bird calls.

Otherwise, ‘Ickies’* have rather typical warbler habits. They are shy and spend their time skulking in vegetation, usually only  given away by their voice. They forage amongst the leaves for insects and summer berries.

Icterine warblers settle in habitats with dense hideaways such as woodlands, scrub and the edges of forestry plantations, preferably in river valleys.  They have only been confirmed breeding five times in Britain, all of which were in the Scottish Highlands. The first record was in 1992 and the latest in 2009, when two pairs bred. The young successfully fledged from at least two of these attempts, including four young raised in Orkney in 2002¹.

They use Britain more regularly as a hotel than as a nursery. An average of 137 drop in per year making them one of our most common rarities ². Such visits often occur as crowds of birds rather than the occasional lost soul, and bigger crowds are thought to be related to breeding years . In the summer of 2009, 50 individuals were reported whereas a record 175 appeared in the first breeding year.

The detection of British breeding icterine warblers is thought to be a testament to the efforts of modern bird recording schemes. Britain is one of the great birdwatching nations, and the recent attempts to survey every square kilometre of the islands , in ‘tetrads’ mean even our wilderness areas miles from the nearest bird hide do not go unchecked. Thus the activity of such elusive birds gets noticed, and protective measures can be put in place.

It is interesting to think of this attractive visitor becoming more common in Britain. Perhaps it might follow the example of the Collared dove (Streptopelia decaocto), once a rarity from the mainland that had birdwatchers flocking, and now a staple garden bird. Only time will tell.

*I didn’t make it up. This is a common term used by birdwatchers.

References

1- Alan Tilmouth. (2009) BTO Atlas work produces Icky results. Available from: http://www.birdguides.com/webzine/article.asp?a=1764

2- Robert A Robinson. (2013)Profiles of birds occurring in Britain and Ireland-Icterine warbler Hippolais icterina   [Vieillot, 1817]. Available from:  http://blx1.bto.org/birdfacts/results/bob12590.htm

H is for House Sparrow

House Sparrow (Passer domesticus)

If I could pick a bird that means the most to me, it would be the house sparrow. Part of daily life at home was  to wake up to the discordant chirrups of the clan in the hedgerow, watch  them streaming to and from the feeder in the chicken  coup (never mind the bird table!) ,see them take dust baths on the garden path and hear them tumble shouting through the bushes in a dominance squabble .  Sparrows were the mainstay of our garden before the fancy finches arrived when sunflower hearts were provided, and thankfully it continues to support a strong population.

The house sparrow is a typical “little brown job” for birdwatchers, particularly the more uniform female. But look closer and you will see intricacy in their plumage with a surprisingly rich palette of browns and greys.  The male sports a grey cap trimmed with reddish brown, and a black beak and eye surround which give him a haughty expression. His most distinctive feature is a scruffy black bib. The size of this correlates with his fighting ability, so signals his dominance to other males and prospective mates. The female is a more modest dusty brown with a dark eye stripe and pale brow and her beak is yellowish. Juveniles are similar to females, but dumpier and with yellow “lips” around the bill that disappear with age.

Though they have a strong beak designed for seed-eating, sparrows are omnivorous (feeding off plant and animal matter) and take a variety of foods. They will nip the buds and flowers of plants, but also pick off insects such as ants, aphids and caterpillars. Sometimes they dart out of bushes, or comically hop along rooftops after flying insects. Importantly, young sparrows require protein-rich insect food in their early life.

The sparrow’s prolific breeding habits are part of their success. They may have 3 broods a year, and may show their uglier side in order to achieve this. Affairs, infanticide (by both males and females) and even eviction of other bird species, such as house martins, swallows and tits from their nests are all common practice.  Whilst such behaviour clashes with human values, it is simply a part of the sparrow’s ecology. They have also been helped in their world conquest by humans, who introduced them to America and New Zealand making them the World’s most widespread bird.

Few other British birds have such an intimate association with humans. It is difficult to imagine this species existing without us, occurring as it does around farms, industrial buildings and of course houses and residential areas whilst being largely absent from the wider countryside*. Their name ‘domesticus’ refers to their association with houses. They are such a part of British life that this line-up wouldn’t be complete without them.  It is therefore surprising the sparrow is not doing so well in modern times.

The sparrow’s history is thus intertwined with our own. As a flocking bird with a taste for grain, it was arable farmer’s enemy number one . A price was put on their heads and they were heavily persecuted. They were even eaten, especially their eggs which provided a free, to people who placed nest boxes on their home fronts to harvest them.

Then, in the 1800’s when farmhands moved to the cities in search of work, the sparrow was there too.  Feeding off spilt grain in horse fodder, the insects in their manure and human scraps and sharing the tenements as roosts and nests, they provided little reminders of home to many, whose attitudes changed towards these common birds.

The movement towards feeding wild birds in the Victorian era was eagerly received by the sparrow. They became a fixture of urban parks, where they grew tame and delighted visitors by feeding straight from their hands, a pastime within living memory.

House sparrows continued as a constant among the British public, but then, in the 1990’s a drastic  decline of this super-common bird raised surprise and alarm. In 2002, the RSPB declared it a red status species due to this rapid drop in numbers.

This was part of a decline in several phases since the 1920’s, caused by different factors in urban and rural areas. Rural sparrows became a victim of increased agricultural efficiency during and after the Second World War which affected all farmland wildlife. The reduction in arable weeds, intensified grazing and shift from ecologically diverse hay meadows to plain, grassy silage reduced the natural seed and insect foods in summer, whilst improvements in harvesting and storage meant less spilt grain as a winter food source. Hedgerows were removed, taking with them the sparrow’s roosts and shelter. Cities provided some refuge from these impacts, but the changes in transport and in urban planning, increased tidiness of gardens, and even blocking up of building eaves to discourage them all had their impacts.

But there is still hope for the house sparrow. They aren’t declining in all British cities, and numbers are actually increasing in Wales and Scotland. So perhaps the homage to J.J. Audobon’s illustration of the now extinct Carolina parakeet ( Conuropsis carolinensis) isn’t so appropriate. 

You can help conserve house sparrows in your garden by providing plenty of bushes or a hedgerow (preferably a native species) as cover habitat, putting up sparrow nest boxes (preferably several individual boxes close together, as they dislike the disturbance caused by commonly marketed multi-chamber boxes)  and of course feeding and watering the birds. They are not fussy. Mixed seed, sunflower hearts, peanuts and suet will all be appreciated.  

With the help of ordinary townspeople, the sparrow may still cling on. I hope it does.  Britain would be a much poorer place without this common and characterful bird.

House sparrows are not the only sparrow in the British Isles. Their rarer, more strictly rural cousin, the Tree sparrow (Passer montanus), has an entirely chestnut cap, a black cheek patch and near-white (as opposed to grey) underparts. Confusingly, the dunnock (Prunella modularis) is commonly called the ‘hedge sparrow’, and though the plumage is remarkably similar to the female house sparrow, they are unrelated. Their name is a relic from a time when ‘sparrow’ applied to any small, brown bird. In relation to this, in the sparrow’s scientific name passer we see the origin of ‘passerines’, the entire group of perching birds.

To find out more about the great house sparrow decline, visit http://www.ndoc.org.uk/articles/Decline%20of%20the%20House%20Sparrow.pdf

*Specifically, more than 60% of the population live in built up areas, with more than half of these occurring in suburban areas, according to the BTO’s Breeding Bird Survey.

G is for Goldfinch

Goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis)

Who can resist the allure of the goldfinch? Its glorious plumage, with the namesake bright yellow wing-bars and crisp white spots on black wings;the smart face mask of scarlet, black and white, and its delicate ivory bill offsetting a body the colour of golden sands.  Its voice is befitting of its appearance, with a tinkling contact call and a song described as “a liquid trickling ramble”¹.  Best of all they are rarely found alone, and a flock of goldfinch is called a ‘charm’ , defined as ‘the blended sound of many voices’ from their constant calls to each other rather than the character trait². The cheerful intermingled chorus of several goldfinches is one of my favourite bird songs.

The goldfinch is yet another bird that has expanded its range in Britain in recent history.  Its UK population status went from Amber in 1996-2001 to Green from 2002 onwards*.  Traditionally a bird of the open countryside in open grassland, fallow fields and weedy margins, it has now won the hearts of many a suburban dweller. This is largely due to people feeding the birds in their gardens and the increase in variety of bird foods offered. Nyger seed is often recommended as a specialist food for these finches, since it is small and narrow, emulating their natural diet, but those in my garden far prefer the plumper sunflower hearts. Despite their small size, they will hold their own against the larger sparrows and chaffinches on the feeders.

The goldfinch is famous for its natural diet of teasle and thistle seeds, indeed the scientific name Cardeulis comes from Carduus for thistles.  They also forage on other small seeds such as knapweed, dandelions, and alder and birch trees as well as a few insects.  Bouncing flocks will descend on fields of these plants, with individuals daintily poised on and acrobatically reaching around a chosen seed head.
Their narrow bills are well suited to prising food from these, but there is more going on than meets the eye. Instead of simply plucking the seed, these finches have stronger jaw muscles to open their bill than other species, which they use tp prise the seed sheath apart. They then pick out the seed with their tongue. Fascinatingly, studies have shown niche separation between the sexes. Males have slightly longer bills to feed on teasles, whilst females prefer thistles¹. Therefore you can judge the sex of a goldfinch flock by what they are feeding on (which is otherwise difficult as both sexes are equally showy).

Goldfinches have peculiar nesting habits for a finch. Rather than tucked away in a hedgerow, they prefer to build on the ends of a thin branch, out of reach of larger predators. The nest is stereotypically cup shaped with high sides to prevent the eggs or chicks from falling out in branch-shaking winds. Less charming is the offspring’s habit of caking the outside of the nest with droppings to deter predators!  This is another opposite to the normal passerine strategy, as most species carry off droppings to avoid predators detecting the nest.
As with most birds, young goldfinches are not as striking as their parents, being a streaky grey with no head markings. They are still recognisable by their wing bars.

Perhaps unsurprisingly,  goldfinches were highly- prized cage birds and especially so in Britain during the 1800’s when the capture of native birds was at its peak. Millions were collected to supply this industry, to the point that wild populations were seriously affected.  In Worthing, Sussex alone, an estimated 132,000 goldfinches were captured in 1860³. The forerunner to the RSPB, The Society for the Protection of Birds made the protection of goldfinches one of their main missions.
Though capturing these birds was already illegal under the Protection of Birds Act (1880), the law was cemented by the Wildlife and Countryside Act (1981) and capture has largely stopped (Though unfortunately they are still illegally caught by some).
The legal practice of keeping captive-bred, ringed and registered goldfinches continues. This includes the breeding of ‘goldfinch mules’, hybrids between goldfinches and canaries which combine the goldfinches’ colouring and sound with the canary’s’ singing prowess. A goldfinch mule in full song can be seen here.

Whilst I’m sure these caged goldfinches bring great joy to many, I’d rather watch this gem of a bird living free on my garden feeders and flying in charms across Britain.

The European goldfinch is not the only species. There are three more types in America. The American goldfinch,  a handsome bird of bright yellow with a black cap and wingtips,  the Lesser goldfinch, which is greener and rather like a male siskin and Lawrence’s goldfinch which is grey with a yellow breast. In my opinion, none of these are as stunning as our own!

*What does this mean? Go here

References

1-Dominic Couzens. (2012) Garden Birds Confidential. Bounty Books.

2- Fransesca Greenoak. (1979) All the Birds of the Air. A. Brown and Sons.

3-Ian Newton. (1975) Finches. Collins. Cited by: Mark Cocker. (2005) Birds Britannica. Random House.

F is for Fulmar/Fulmarus

Fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis)

At first glance, the fulmar appears to be a gull. It’s wide grey wings, white body and yellow bill and general behaviour are certainly very similar, but it is a tube-nose, related to shearwaters, petrels and the famous albatross. On closer inspection the fulmar glides on stiff, straight wings with occasional rapid wing-beats, unlike the graceful tapering, swooping wings of a gull, and has a charmingly dumpy body, round head and stubby bill. And of course, the bill has a tube nostril, which excretes salt from its diet and the seawater it drinks.  Like gulls, fulmars also have a ‘furrowed brow’ look, which helps protect their eyes from the sea’s reflective glare.

The fulmars name is a corruption of the Norse ‘Foul Maa’ meaning foul gull¹, from their infamous defence strategy of projectile vomiting  fish oil onto their attacker, apparently up to five feet away! Unsurprisingly, this sticky, smelly defence is an effective deterrent against any predator with a sense of smell or cleanliness.  If you really want to see it in more detail, go here. Unbelievably, the people of St Kilda island, Scotland, once used ‘fulmar oil’ as a medicine²!

For good or for bad, fulmars are full of character. Once, at pendennis castle, Cornwall, I witnessed their excellent flying abilities as a pair were gliding backwards and forwards on the wind  next to the ruins. At the last second  they would switch direction or push off with their feet, narrowly avoiding being dashed against the stones.  Whether it was for pure joy or flying practice, it certainly looked like they were having fun!  I witnessed this again with friends on the cliffs of the Pembrokeshire coast, and we almost suffered a fulmar to the face as we watched from the ledge.
On a very different side to their character, the fulmar is surprisingly high in the pecking order for its size, possibly due to it’s defense. On a sea fishing trip being trailed by a fulmar and several gulls, even the great black backed gull gave way to the fulmar when offal was thrown overboard, despite the gull being almost twice the fulmar’s weight.  They have also been photographed fighting off skuas for food.

Asides from oily fish fulmars also feed on squid, crustaceans and carrion, either from the surface or by diving to a depth of 3 meters in the open sea³. Hence they are mainly pelagic (open ocean) birds though they may be found along the coast most of the year. They are not fussy nesters, favouring cliffs but also using burrows, walls, roofs and even open ground, sometimes a little inland from the coast. Here they will raise just a single chick in a bare nest. This breeding strategy pays off as fulmars are one of the longest-living birds, reaching 30-50 years, though they only start breeding at around 10 years old³.

The fulmar has an interesting history in Britain. In 1870, the only British breeding fulmars were on the remote North-west Scottish islands of St Kilda. Here they were a staple food for the islanders. By the 1970’s they were breeding over almost the entire British coastline ^1,3,4! Oddly enough, this wasn’t a spread of st Kildan birds, but a population explosion of the more adaptable Icelandic fulmars. Increased food resources from fishing vessels and whaling is likely a major cause of this spread, but the warming of the North-East Atlantic and even genetics have been suggested as other factors. So next time you’re holidaying on the coast, look out for this pugnacious yet playful bird among the gulls.

E is for Egretta

Little Egret (Egretta garzetta)

If I was typing this just a few years ago, the little egret wouldn't have featured on this blog, yet it is now one of my favourite British birds. As any birder will know, the Little Egret is a newcomer to the UK within living memory, and one that has been welcomed with open arms. Once a rare visitor from the Mediterranean, they rapidly spread North under their own power during the nineties and noughties and are now common as pristine white muck in our wetlands. They are the bird which has shown the largest increase in the UK in the past decade or so ¹. Despite being so commonplace now, they still bring a touch of the exotic.

They are undoubtedly very beautiful birds. They are dainty compared with grey herons Ardea cinerea , with pure white plumage, delicate trailing display feathers and gracile proportions giving them an angelic appearance. However, they still portray the dinosaurian nature of all herons as soon as they open their beak!

The reason why egrets suddenly chose to recolonise Britain isn't wholly understood. Climate change leading to milder winters, and greater protection under the EC birds directive allowing them to spread across Europe have both been proposed.  They've certainly fit in. This may partly be due to their separate habits to grey herons (our only other common heron species).  Egrets pluck small fish and aquatic invertebrates from the water. They won’t be seen gulping down a prize carp or small mammal. This more common diet may explain why they are often seen in company, though it doesn't stop them squabbling. They are also more specialist in habitats, preferring to fish in shallow water with a sandy or silty bed, in standing water, large rivers, estuaries and coasts. The reason for this is their feeding behaviour. A strutting or flying little egret shows its bright yellow feet on the end of black legs. They shuffle their flashy toes along the bottom to startle hidden prey into fleeing and showing itself.  They will also chase after more obvious prey, such as shoals of fish fry, in short bursts of gangly-legged jogs.

Whatever the reason for the little egret’s re-invasion of Britain after such a long absence, it seems to have set a trend among the heron family. It’s cousins, the Great Egret Ardea alba * is being seen increasingly frequently in Britain (Including by me and some friends in Ham Wall, Somerset in 2012 and 2013, and magnificent birds they are too!), along with the Cattle Egret Bubulculus ibis . The purple heron Ardea purpurea, night heron Nycticorax nycticorax and little bittern Ixobrychus minutes have bred here. Fortunately, our other long-standing resident, the Bittern Botauris stellaris, is still increasing. Obviously this is exciting for birders, even those by now bored of the little egret.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that the little egret is new to our waters, so what’s all this talk of ‘recolonising’ after ‘absence’ then? 

This is because it was once as common here as it is today. It was only during the Medieval Period in the 1600s that little egrets became extinct from Britain. Like other big birds that Britain lost during this time, such as  the Bittern, Common crane Grus grus  and Great bustard Otis tarda, they were eaten into oblivion at prestigious banquets.  A banquet to celebrate the enthronement of George Neville as Archbishop of York at Cawood Castle in 1465 included 1,000 egrets²! Climate change during the little ‘Little Ice Age’ (a cold period during Mediaeval times), also did not help this bird at the Northern edge of its range.

Egrets continued to be hunted in Europe, not for eating, but for that most sickening business of decorating humans with bits of animal. Their beautiful display plumes, and even whole skins, were highly prized for ladies hat-making. So highly prized that egret plumes became more valuable than gold, fetching about £875 in modern terms per ounce or 28 grams. Each egret only produced around 1 gram ³.Though another graceful wetland bird, the avocet has fame as the RSPB’s symbol, egrets were the reason the charity was started in the first place in 1889 when women rightly protested against this brutal and unnecessary practice. It was providential that the first major influx of egrets to the UK was in the RSPB’s Centenary year⁴.

This little white heron has acquired a contradictory status in our islands, being both an exotic newcomer to birders and a re-established native with a place in human and conservation history for natural historians.  I think I speak for us all when I say we are glad to have them back!

In desperation to compile enough information, this is the first article I've written where I had to use Wikipedia (God help us all!), and for similar reasons is also the longest article so far.

^*Though, as recently recognised, not a particularly close cousin. The term “egret” just refers to a white heron, it doesn’t refer to a particular related group.  Interestingly, the species name “garzetta” translates literally into “a little white heron” in Italian.

References

1- Louise Grey. (2013). Little Egret arrives in Britain thanks to global warming. The Telegraph Online. Available from:  www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/earthnews/6872249/Little-egret-arrives-in-Britain-thanks-to-global-warming.html

2-Stubbs, F. J. (1910). The Egret in Britain. Zoologist 14 (4): 310–311.

3- Robert A Robinson. (2013)Profiles of birds occurring in Britain and Ireland-Little Egret Egretta garzetta  [Linnaeus, 1766]. Available from: http://blx1.bto.org/birdfacts/results/bob1190.htm

4-Southend RSPB. (2013) Little Egrets in Southend . Available from: http://www.southendrspb.co.uk/egrets.htm

B is for Buzzard/Buteo

Buzzard (Buteo Buteo)

The buzzard is commonly known as the ‘tourist eagle’ by birdwatchers, because people holidaying in the mountain wildernesses of the UK in search of our largest raptors are often fooled by the buzzard’s appearance. To the informed birdwatcher the buzzard used to be exciting in itself as they once occurred in only a few rural areas in the UK, a victim of the accidental and deliberate persecution of all of Britain’s raptors. I was always excited to see them on my holidays to Cornwall.

Thankfully you don’t have to go out on a limb to see buzzards any more. In fact they’re one of the UK’s greatest conservation success stories, being our most common raptor,  but they have largely been eclipsed by their more enigmatic cousin, the Red Kite Milvus milvus . Nicely for me, it is one of the changes I’ve seen happen within my lifetime. Their broad frame can soar into view even in the middle of towns and agricultural fields across the nation.

The buzzard’s success is largely because they are not fussy eaters. They’re not too proud to pass up carrion, worms and beetles, alongside reptiles, frogs, small mammals and birds. They are often thought of as ‘lazy’ or mostly scavengers (possibly why Americans named vultures after them). In fact they are capable and powerful predators, taking down woodpigeons and rabbits, comparatively large prey and are even recorded preying on kestrels¹. Anyway, even the ‘proud’ eagle is an avid scavenger, as are most other large predators. Being such a generalist is a winning strategy, because it means that buzzards don’t have to be territorial to find enough food (except during the breeding season, when they also have to feed chicks), and as a result you can see gatherings of buzzards in some places, gliding on thermals or, as reported by one of my university friends, searching for worms in ploughed fields.

Buzzards even show a kind of “lekking” behaviour when courting, as several individuals from nearby areas come together in a flock to display to each other (I was astounded to see 18 buzzards doing this over my University campus!).

It also turns out that being common gets you lots of friends. Buzzards became famous in the news this year as plans to control them on pheasant shooting estates were proposed by our wise (irony!) Environment Secretary. The plan was to make it legal to destroy buzzard nests and take them into captivity if they were thought to be causing a problem by eating young pheasants which the gamekeepers released into their forests. This was shocking, since a) “control” by gamekeepers was a major reason that most British raptor species declined in the first place and b) all UK raptors are equally legally protected from such “control” by the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 (the tourist eagle has the same protection as real eagles*). Not to mention that c) independent research found that raptors in general were only responsible for around 3% of pheasant deaths, how much of this is buzzards is unknown².

Fortunately for the buzzards, they were well-known and loved by Joe public, who rallied an appalled and vociferous opposition against the plans, and won their case, hands-down only a few days after the press release. Thank God for democracy!**
So let us celebrate the buzzard. The common raptor for the common people. Long may they circle our skies!

There are two other “Buzzards” in the UK. These are the rough-leeged buzzard (Buteo lagopus), an occasional visitor from the arctic which has a white, black-tipped tail and feathered legs, and the honey buzzard (Pernis apivorous), a summer visitor from Africa which is not a true buzzard and prefers wasp larvae to bee’s honey.

*Except, importantly it is illegal to destroy an eagle or osprey’s nest at any time of year since they use them annually. Buzzards do not, so their unused nests are not protected.

**AN UPDATE -Since the time of writing it has surfaced that Natural England issued licenses to destroy 4 buzzard nests. This was conducted in secrecy, but fortunately has recieved media attention and started further public outcry

References

¹ Darren Naish. (2012) Raptor vs Raptor. Available from: http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/tetrapod-zoology/2012/04/26/raptor-vs-raptor/

² BASC (no date) Birds of Prey and Pheasants at Release Pens. A Practical Guide for Game Managers and Gamekeepers. Available from: http://www.basc.org.uk/en/utilities/document-summary.cfm/docid/0ED97AE3-2C65-4B50-B6976A55717073D2