Michael Walter's latest report:
Winter is an extremely lean time for birdwatching in the wood: on a New Year’s Day walk with friends I wasn’t aware of a single bird, though admittedly I was concentrating more on my duties as a host and leader. Nevertheless, it is somewhat disturbing to be in the wood for nearly two hours and not hear a squeak out of a blue tit, blackbird, wood pigeon or any of the other 25 or so species that one might reasonably hope to encounter at this time of year (I’m excluding from this figure any birds, such as gulls, that are simply flying over). In this seemingly birdless desert I am therefore grateful for the more or less constant presence of crows (or carrion crows, as they are usually referred to in bird guides). Most days I hear their hoarse, tuneless calls or see them overhead, and a pair are often to be found hopping around on the main track, looking rather bored as they peck disconsolately at tiny morsels on the ground. And yet, you might be permitted to query what they are doing in the wood in the first place, as crows are associated with farmland, the coast and, along with their larger cousin, the raven, wild upland moors. Surely a wood is not typical habitat for these birds? To which I suppose the reply would have to be yes, crows are lovers of wide open spaces, but then, to a great extent, that is what they can enjoy at Blean for, unlike many woods that are no longer managed, Blean is busy during the dark winter months with the piercing whine of chainsaws. Extensive areas are coppiced annually on a rotation, while other plots are thinned out. Broad tracks, or rides, criss-cross the wood to provide abundant habitat for sun-loving wildlife such as butterflies and dragonflies. Then there are the numerous glades and heathland. In fact, about 10% of the reserve is managed as permanently open habitats, so it is not so surprising after all that species such as crows are to be found here and, bearing in mind that they need trees to nest in, you could say that they are spoilt for choice at Blean. The open nature of the reserve also explains why birds of prey that hunt primarily over unwooded countryside, such as hen harrier, buzzard and kestrel come to be recorded at Blean. If there were no extensive clearings, I wouldn’t be able to visit the wood on summer evenings to listen to the evocative churring of the nightjar; and would you believe that we even get waders, those quintessentially marshland and estuary birds like curlew and redshank? This is, in part, a trick question, as the woodcock, which is present here all year round, is a wader that has broken away from a watery milieu and chosen to carve out a niche for itself within woods, and tends to be thought of as an honorary grouse or wild chicken! The snipe, is very definitely a true wader, and not a woodland bird, but on occasion a flock of up to up to forty has been flushed from a flooded area of heath, where just a single bird was present recently. We should not think of even the humblest wood as just a collection of trees growing close together, and Blean Woods is certainly far more complex than that.
However, although the wood has been generally very quiet this winter, there have been occasional little treats, such as a flock of forty redwings looking for a suitable block of trees in which to roost for the night, or the twenty chaffinches that swept up from the track as I cycled past one afternoon. On the few sunny days recently some of the hidden birdlife has made its presence known with joyful bursts of song: blue, great and coal tit have all been tuning up, with louder vocalisations from song thrushes and, particularly welcome to me, the first drumming of a great spotted woodpecker. Rain, hail, gales and snow may block the path ere long, but never doubt that spring lies ahead.