Wildlife at the cricket – feral pigeons and swifts.
30 Days Wild – Day 3
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‘Just’ Brown Bears?
I’ve just returned from a trip to Finland with Naturetrek to watch European brown bears in the wilds of the north. The title of the trip was ‘Finland – Just Brown Bears’ but I think this is entirely misleading; there was nothing ‘just’ about it!
After missing out on seeing brown bears on what was an otherwise brilliant ‘Sweden’s Mammals’ trip with Naturetrek a few years ago, I felt somewhat deprived, so I booked this short three-night to make up for it. This is the first organised wildlife trip I’ve taken in a while and it showed what I have been missing.
I had an early wake up on Thursday morning but this was made easier by a smooth transition through Heathrow Airport. Two pleasant flights later (being grilled about Brexit by a nice Finnish lady for the entire second flight), our small group of five met up for the first time with Jarno, our tour leader. Departing Kajaani, we had our first views of Finland on the two and half hour drive to the home for the next three nights, the Martinselkosen Wilds Centre. The Centre is just two kilometres from the Russian border and about half way up the county on the opposite side from Oulu.
Having visited Sweden so many times over the past 15 years, the Finnish landscape was very familiar in many ways but much more wild and remote than my usual Swedish haunts. The land is a mixture of forests, lakes and bogs and there was very little else on route. On arrival at the Wilds Centre I was very pleasantly surprised by the standard of the accommodation. We all had rooms in the annexe to the main building; clearly a recent addition with seven modern, clean and airy twin ensuite rooms – all very typically Nordic!
After a nice evening meal, we all went off to separately explore the area making use of the gravel roads and forest tracks. The evening was so light and the sun didn’t set until 11:00pm although that didn’t seem to make much difference to the light levels and it barely seemed like dusk when I finally got my head down at around 12:00.
I woke to a startlingly bright day with deep blue and almost cloudless skies; the weather didn’t change from this for the rest of the stay – amazing! It was time to settle into the dining patterns for the next few days; a breakfast at 8:00 (porridge with jam and then bread, cold meats and cheeses) and a two course lunch at 3:00pm followed by sandwiches and biscuits during the evenings in the bear hides.
Breakfast gave us a first sign of the local mammals with red squirrels on the bird feeders outside the dining room window accompanied by a few bullfinches. Afterwards there was time for some more local wanderings before Jarno picked us up for a guided drive around the forests surrounding the Centre and then further afield. Along the way we saw bear scat, the last furry remains of a wolf-killed reindeer and looked in an old tree stump for owls (one wasn’t home that day). We moved on to a birdwatching tower next to a large lake where there were excellent views of wildlife including crane, cuckoo, little gull, bean geese and whooper swan. Moving on we came to another large lake and had our first views of (living) reindeer plus a distant osprey and a couple of black-throated divers. On the way back to the Centre we had a brief view of a larger herd of reindeer, hidden away across a bog and behind trees.
It was lunch on our return and afterwards we had a quick turnaround to get ready for our overnight stay in the main forest hide; hoping to get our first views of brown bears. However, we didn’t have to wait until we got there for our first view! Walking the 1.5km out to the hide, along first trails, we were startled by a mother bear and two cubs as they ran across the path in front of us. She stopped only 20 metres from us, turning to face us and standing on her hind legs, hurrumphing at us before turning and disappearing into the forest, followed by the cubs. I have to say she looked rather big standing so close to us with nothing in between but fresh Finnish air; earlier in the day I had a real sense of being out in the wilderness, this really brought it home!
Moving on we soon came to the forest hide, where more bears were already waiting in amongst the grass, rocks and trees. We quickly settled in, not wanting to disturb the bears too much with our presence. Again I was pleasantly surprised by the accommodation – a well-constructed, spacious wooden hide with comfy chairs and bunkbeds for all. The windows were large enough to give good views but without showing us too much to the bears and there were material covered gaps for camera lenses to be put through. Even the compost toilet was ‘nicer’ than expected and the window could have given a most unusual and memorable view to accompany that normally mundane activity!
The entire 14 hours in the hide made for one of the most unforgettable wildlife experiences of my life. There were very few minutes for the whole time when there wasn’t a least one bear to be seen and at the most spectacular there 16 of the beasts out there at one time! Most of the bears were in family groups of a mother and two, three or even four cubs. There were also adolescents who had recently separated from their mothers and most cute of all, two of this years very small cubs who made a very fleeting visit.
There was always a sense of tension between the bears while feeding on the meal left out for them, usually mothers wary about others getting too close to their cubs but early on a large male made a short, passing visit which sent most of the others scattering. However, it was much later in the evening when all hell broke loose as a male visited again and walked straight through the gathering in search of a receptive female. Most of the mothers and cubs ran off in all directions whilst other cubs shinned up trees like lightning. The male only had one thing on his mind and soon wandered off to continue his search.
Eventually we all retired to bed but with light in the sky all night it was easy just to lie on the bunk and watch the bears outside. Waking after only a few hours sleep (who could sleep properly when there were bears to be seen!), there was just a little time left to watch the animals moving around in the first rays of the dawn-breaking sun before we had to set off back to the centre for breakfast.
After a good feed, we went out for a boat trip on the nearby lakes, using almost silent electric motors to power us across the mirror-like waters. After just a few minutes, we saw a mother bear and cubs on a far off bank, who immediately ran off as soon as she saw us – another wilderness view to be remembered. We pushed on around the lakes, going through some narrows where the short distance between banks presented an opportunity for bears to cross, the animal-made paths easy to see on each side. Soon a watchtower came into view, a sign of just how close we were to the Russian Border, but thoughts soon returned to wildlife with a great view of a black woodpecker at the top of a dead tree. We eventually came to a narrow ridge between two bodies of water and got out of the boat to look for more signs of bears, finding hairs caught on undergrowth and tree bark ripped by large powerful claws. Returning to the boat, we floated back to the start across the still flat calm lakes and returned to the Centre for lunch.
It was soon time to head out for a second but shorter visit to a bear hide. We went to the evening hide, a little distance away from the previous location but in a different setting. Instead of nestling within the forest, it sat out on the swamp with grassland and scrub as a background. Whilst there weren’t as many bears, seven over the course of four hours, the setting seemed more wild and the rich evening light provided great conditions for photographs. The bears were quite obliging with close views and the sight of another very large male at eye level was quite unforgettable. However, it didn’t seem long until we had to make the trip back to the minibus after the final evening with the bears, back along the path through the forest looking out for any unexpected sightings in the still good light.
After the memorable previous couple of days, it was sad to make our way to Oulu Airport in the morning straight after breakfast. The journey made some more memories, however, with a few sightings of reindeer on the roadside as well as a couple of female capercallies. The group said goodbye to Jarno who had led us so well during our stay and made our way into the nice modern terminal and on to our flight home via Helsinki.
Overall, over the course of the trip we saw brown bears a plenty, a good few reindeer, red squirrels, a mountain hare, signs of beavers and a muskrat holt, over 50 species of bird and grand northern wilderness landscapes – this trip was anything but ‘Just Brown Bears’.
30 Days Wild – Day 2
Listening to bird song as I start a day working from home.
30 Days Wild – Day 1
Looked for wildlife on my train journey to work.
Wildlife included woodpigeon, carrion crow, jackdaw, mute swan, mallard, coot, herring gull, Canada goose, starling and rabbit. I also noticed the hawthorn and elder still in flower.
Wild for a month
The Wildlife Trusts are running their 30 Days Wild event again this year. This is a month-long challenge for people to do something during each day of June to bring themselves closer to nature. Over 20,000 people have signed up so far and this year, that includes me.
I’ve got a few ideas on what I’m going to do each day, after all I do wild things quite often, and I’ll be helped somewhat by being on RSPB Ramsey Island for half the month (I don’t quite think that counts as cheating – every little helps!).
A fine morning for a bird survey
For a Sunday, I woke unusually early this morning, so I took advantage of the opportunity and went out to do the first Breeding Bird Survey of the year at Cheshire Wildlife Trust’s Blakenhall Moss reserve.
Unlike other Wildlife Trust reserves, including the Bagmere site I also survey, the methodology hasn’t changed for Blakenhall this year, so it was out to do a familiar route, recording the bird species seen and the most ‘breeding-like’ behaviour observed.
The morning was bright and almost cloudless, with a strong sun but not quite as warm as it looked. However, I soon warmed up as the route is a bit of a struggle in places, either wading through water or pushing through undergrowth. The work by Cheshire Wildlife Trust to return the Moss to a raised lowland bog has left the site much wetter (intentionally) and where water isn’t lying, the woodland understory it much thicker than it was. However, it was less tough than I thought it was going to be and after an hour or so I completed the survey and sat for a while on an old tree trunk, taking in the sun and watching the wildlife.
The birdlife was much as I expected, 29 species recorded in all, but there were a couple of new ones for the site, reed bunting and oystercatcher. Overall, that’s 62 species recorded at the reserve since I did the first reserve survey in early 2014. I also saw my first spotted flycatchers of the year, three in all; these are one of my favourite of our summer visitors.
Walking around the Moss, there were signs that spring is moving on; the blue bells have nearly finished and the hawthorn is out in blossom, showing that summer can’t be far away.
A waiting game…
Sat in the shelter of the caravan, the rain beats down heavily on the roof. The drops from the overshadowing trees drum the loudest as the wind cascades them off the soaked leaves. The bolt hole rocks as the breeze picks up and the gloom deepens with ever darker clouds moving quickly across the view out of the plastic windows.
Above the noise of the downpour, other sounds break through; the sheep out in the wet meadows, a cuckoo in the distance and a chaffinch on top of the drystone wall. The river is rising, fed by the water running off the hills and mountains, the peak of its flow yet to come and its height uncertain. The screen shows a miserable sight; an osprey sat in a large, slowly swaying nest, protecting two speckled eggs from the shower, rain running off its soggy feathers; a picture of dejection.
The slackening of the rain and then its halting, brings some relief and hope that a flood won’t come. Despite the rain and breeze, it’s not cold; what occasional light shines from between the clouds warms through the windows. As the weather begins to clear, there’s more activity, with swallows and house martins darting across the fields and a woodpecker constantly moving from nest tree to feeders and back again, some eggs have already hatched.
Back inside the caravan, watch is kept, notes are scribbled, a sandwich is eaten, time is marked, the waiting goes on…
Slowly but surely the time for the osprey eggs to hatch is getting closer but there are still many hours of sitting and waiting in the protection caravan or out in the forward hide before there is a first sight of this year’s chicks. There are still many night hours to come, in the dark watching for the movement of an egg collector in the shadows. There are even more daylight hours to come, sitting inside away from the rain, or walking in the growing warmth of sunnier periods. All hours, however, are spent surrounded by nature, its sights, sounds and scents.
I was given two unusually close views of Aran today; first he landed in a tree on the caravan side of the river, a perch much nearer to the caravan than I have ever seen before, and then he flew past even closer with some nesting material a minute or so later.
Apart from the close views, it was a quiet shift today, just as I like them. There was no drama of intruding ospreys or other unwanted visitors, just a day spent in the valley looking at the spring views and listening to nature all around. As my hours came to an end, I wandered down to the bridge over the swollen and faster-moving river; my favourite spot not quite as comfortable as I like it with the strong breeze still present despite the passing of the rain.
It will be five weeks until I have another shift and hopefully much will have happened in the Glaslyn Valley in the meantime; all being well, there will be a couple of new ospreys in the nest when I return.
Spring in full swing at Wybunbury Moss…
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Work’s started on the extension…
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An osprey intrusion into spring primetime
Looking from the darkened shelter, out across the drying wet meadows, there is clear, striking blue above reflected by the softer blue haze beneath the trees. The branches are no longer bare, with an electric green wash having transformed the wooded valley and hillsides. A robin sings softly from the gorse with flowers now fading and a bee bumbles past in search of fresh blooms. The sheep are out on the low clipped grass amongst the taller and thicker stands of dark rush; the lambs quietly graze at the fresh shoots while the ewes lie lazily in the warming sun. A pied wagtail wanders it erratic way along the ditchside while dangly-legged flies hover above. A crow wafts past as the furthest views take on a liquid state in the growing shimmer of the midday heat.
The spring sounds are all around; not the eruption of the dawn chorus but business of the progressing season at the height of the day. Swallows chat quickly as they chase low across the meadowland floor and a blackbird makes a quick passage between bushes in flight from the searching hawk. Through the edge of trees a willow warbler descends its notes and the chaffinch tumbles its song, both supported by a broader orchestra of avian musicians. Percussion is played by the drumming woodpecker while the distant cuckoo calls out through the wood in the wind. A song thrush adds a tunefulness to the setting whilst its mistle cousin rattles on its flight from stand to stand. Above the hill tops ravens cronk their conversational tones and then float down towards the valley and past on the strengthening breeze.
In the distance, contrails mark out the sky as jets head west towards the sea and ocean beyond. A buzzard pair begin to climb on the up rushing thermals, crying out as they make turn after turn, they suddenly stoop together, grappling and parting, to rise back up again.
The buzzards are joined in their effortless ascent by another pair of wings making use of the lift. It stands out larger than the pair and makes shorter, higher pitched cries as it gains height. Further calls come from the small copse out across the fields; calls of protective alarm and maternal concern. Up in the high nest is a clutch speckled eggs, under the gaze of the rising winged intruder, now gliding up towards the sun and disappearing into the dazzling brightness.
I’m not the most emotional of osprey observers but even I let out a few gasps last night watching the antics of Blue 2R on the video stream. I was sure she had stood on an egg while clumsily marching around the nest, open-taloned and occasionally aggressive. When I woke this morning, I had to check the live feed before setting out on my way to my favourite wooded valley. Fortunately things seemed to have calmed down somewhat but Blue 2R was still around when I turned up. Soon after I sat myself down in the forward hide, she lifted up from the nest and ascended high up into the sky and eventually disappearing into the glare of the sun. Aran soon returned with a fish and it was hungrily taken by Mrs G – peace restored but for how long?
I spent the first half of my shift out in the hide; oddly over the past five springs I have spent very little time out there but today I made up for it. Under a near cloudless sky, I sat in silence, listening and watching the scenes of spring unfold in front of me, all in surround sound and the most vivid of colours. This little spot has almost no intrusion from manmade sounds with the exception of the occasional car and passing plane, so it’s a perfect spot to really sink yourself into the sights and sounds of springtime.
I love this time of year, when the colours are at their freshest and the wildlife is most active. The green of the trees is indescribably bright and intense, the freshly emerged leaves yet to be dulled by the sun and weather. The bluebells on route were just as bright and the track to protection is painted more blue than I can remember from previous years.
It wasn’t perfect weather though (I’m so hard to please) as the easterly breeze brought a coolness to the day that deceived the views under the strong sun and clear sky. I should however just be grateful that I didn’t have to write another post of how my journey here started off dry and ended up drenched. If my shift next week is as lovely as this one was, I’ll be very happy!
Daft Mumblings 