View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - ART FOR ART'S SAKE

ART FOR ART'S SAKE

How good are you at art? Drawing and painting, that kind of thing.

I'm rubbish, truth be told. I never really progressed much beyond the 'scribbling toddler holding a wax crayon in a closed fist' stage. Some of my best work was done on the living room wallpaper fifty-odd years ago (sorry Mum). I'm totally in awe of those people who can put pencil to paper and come up with something that looks even vaguely like their intended subject – even more so if someone else can recognise the artwork for what it was meant to resemble. So you can imagine what my field sketches of birds look like.

Field sketching is an important tool for any birdwatcher. Imagine this scenario; you're in a wood, a field, a reedbed, whatever. A small, dull, almost insignificant bird suddenly pops up out of nowhere in front of you. You know that you should be able to identify it but you're totally stumped. It's probably a warbler, you've got that far, but beyond that... It looks like a million other little brown jobbies. They're all the same, aren't they?

Well no, they're not. Very similar, yes, but not the same. Small brown warblers are notoriously difficult to identify unless they're actually singing, in the same way that Gulls can be very confusing (see my recent GULL OF MY DREAMS blog for more on this). For many birders, Little Brown Jobs are the bane of their lives.

But don't give up on them. There are usually several small details that help to distinguish any group of initially confusing species and most of the time they're fairly easy to see. Just because identification is difficult doesn't mean that it's impossible, just maybe that you can't do it right there and then in the field. But perhaps you might be able to recognise them with the help of reference material when you get home. So take as many mental notes as you can while scrabbling in your bag or pocket for the notebook and pencil that are always there. They are always there, aren't they? If not, they should be. They're as indispensable as binoculars. Always carry them for situations like this. And then, while everything is still fresh in your mind, scribble.

You're not trying to make a “proper” picture of the bird, you're just recording as many details as possible so that later you can try to identify it correctly and positively, without any ambiguity. Make an effort to draw the bird's general shape and size. Note colours of feathers, eyes and legs. Try to replicate the beak shape and length. Make mention of anything unusual like a moustache or an eyebrow stripe. It doesn't matter how good, bad or downright terrible this drawing is. Nobody else need ever see it. There's certainly no chance of anybody ever clapping eyes on my artistic efforts.

I once saw a Whitethroat but wasn't sure if it was the Common or Lesser variety. This wasn't due to a bad sighting but due to my own ignorance. I recognised the bird's actual white throat but at the time I couldn't bring to mind the specific details of the separate species. So I quickly made a sketch and scrawled a few accompanying notes. It didn't matter that, to the casual observer, there was no way of even telling which way the bird in the drawing was facing. I wouldn't have complained if some people thought that it had been pointing to the left, to the right or even lying flat dead on its back. The point was that I knew, and the shading and notes around the blob-with-wings in my hastily-constructed picture all made some kind of sense to me. I'd remarked on its pale grey head, its beige chest, peach-pink legs and its long, wagging tail. Once I got home and checked in my guidebooks, these details were enough to confirm its identity. Common Whitethroat. My picture was also enough to confirm my almost total lack of artistic ability, but that wasn't the point. It served its purpose as an aid to identification. Sometimes 'good enough' is absolutely good enough.

It doesn't matter in the slightest if you don't know what the stripey line above a bird's eye is called (supercilium) or what the small feathers that lay over the flight feathers to provide streamlining and insulation are called (coverts). All that matters is that you notice them and show them in your drawing. A picture is, as they say, worth a thousand words. Just sketch as thoroughly and as speedily as you can. This last part is important. Get your image down on paper immediately, preferably while the bird is still in sight. It's amazing how quickly memory fades. Was its beak thin or chunky? Were there white bars on the edge of its tail? Did it have pink or yellow legs? Honestly, these details may be blindingly obvious when you're looking at the creature through your binoculars but within seconds of it flying away you can start to doubt yourself. So speed wins over artistic ability, every time. Don't forget, you're just making an aide-memoire, not creating a masterpiece to hang in a gallery.... unless you really are that good. If so, then develop your field sketch into something better and show it off. The world needs more good bird artist.

Having said all that, if I have the luxury of time then I'm much better with words than pictures. That's why I read more books than I see films. That's why I write blogs and books but don't paint or draw. And that's why the Old Moor Welcome Shed hosts a list of names rather than a series of photos of the species that have recently been seen. With that in mind, here's the current board. You might want to make a little field sketch of the waders or warblers that you spot on the reserve, just to check that you haven't seen anything that's recently arrived. You never know...

This weeks highlights has to be: the return of the Male Marsh Harrier, Garganey, and the Sedge Warbler