Midway through my Jordan report, thought I'd throw this one in, at least as a mitigating reason for the slowness in finishing that one 
A short trip to the UK, but massive thumbs-up to Gilgrin Farm, truly today offering one of Europe's greatest single bird spectacles.
Day One.
Having not flown for all of five days and eager to bring my 2011 carbon dioxide emissions up to a respectable level, I decided it was time for another short foray overseas. To the west of Lithuania lies Great Britain, a green and pleasant land full of birds and smiling people. And so it was, battling through a raging blizzard in Lithuania, I left work on the Friday afternoon and trusted myself into the welcoming arms of Ryan Air, my flight arriving south of London just in time to plonk me on the M25 simultaneously with an enormous rain storm, a resultant multi-car pile-up promptly closing all but one lane of the motorway, thus leaving me in a nice traffic jam. Welcome to Blighty.
Day Two.
As a young whippersnapper based in Gwent way back in the 1980s, in an era before the reintroductions elsewhere in the UK, it was my annual pleasure to take a trip up to the magical mountains of mid-Wales, land of the Red Kite, still then a rare and endangered bird. A couple of Peregrines, a few Buzzards, a few Red Kites if lucky, my day would be made. Ah nostalgia.
As years went by, slowly the number of kites increased, trips notching up a dozen, then even twenty. A farmer, most enlightened, began a feeding operation - 2 p.m. every afternoon, choice meat dished out, local corvids no doubt rejoicing. The place was Gilgrin Farm, a few kilometres from Rhayader. Today the place needs little introduction, from those early days, the spectacle has simply eclipsed anything that could have been imagined. A half dozen Red Kites in the first year, up to 20 or so soon after, but in the intervening years, I have watched from afar as the news trickled out, the kite numbers reaching stratospheric proportions - supposedly many hundreds of birds now in regular attendance. And to think, in my days, there were just 20 to 30 pairs in the entire country!
Time for reaquaintance. A day trip in glorious landscapes, touring first the picturesque Elan Valley - the first Red Kites already hugging the horizons, quartering the hillsides and floating above stunted oak woodlands. Quite unexpected, the weather held fine, bright sun knocking aside a few heavy clouds. Bar the kites, few other birds of note - the reservoirs largely frozen, the woodlands near silent. Ravens perched upon the sheep, a few Common Buzzards soared as the day went on.
1 p.m. approached, there was only one place to be - Gilgrin Farm. And what an amazing spectacle, the skies were already absolutely full of Red Kites, swirling flocks mewing above, dozens more in treetops in all directions. A definite wow factor in play! Had a quick talk with the farmer, the numbers were even greater than I had expected - an incredible 600 had been visiting during the snows of the previous weeks, an estimated 500 still dropping in daily for the 2 p.m. hand outs. And two leucistic birds two.
Eyes a goggle, I wandered down to the hides - Red Kites and Common Buzzards already waiting. Time ticked by, the flocks grew ever larger, the purr of a tractor appeared from behind, food on its way. And with the growing rumble of the engine, a frenzy amongst the kites, the sky almost darkening as the flocks pressed in. Into the field came the tractor, its bucket totally full of chopped meat. Round the meadow he cast the offerings, Red Kites now going berserk, dive bombing and snatching morsels. The tractor departed, and thereafter unfolded one of the great bird events of Europe - an incredible hour of activity, hundreds of Red Kites in non-stop action, swooping to grab what they could, 30 or so Common Buzzards also lounging about, with Rooks, Ravens, Jackdaws and Carrion Crows not knowing when to duck and when to stuff their faces! Even one Grey Heron strutting in to take his fill. And there amongst them, the two leucistic kites - one near pure white, a right eyesore, the other more piebald, the first time I have seen such. Very nice birds they were.
The hour passed, the intensity of action slackened, so too did the sun vanish behind a cloud. A memorable afternoon indeed, time to depart, still Red Kites abundant above.
Day Three.
Something different. A quick look at the feeders in my mother's garden, one male Blackcap on the apples, then off to Slimbridge - a twitch in action, again nostalgia at work. Back in those halcyon days, when this Gwent lad would pop up to the Welsh mountains in search of elusive kites, the evil of twitching had also taken hold, me criss-crossing the country in search of the rare and new. One such bird had been in March 1987, travelling up to the 'wilds' of Staffordshire to see the first ever Lesser Scaup to touchdown in the UK. Common as muck now, a mere 150 or so seen in the years since! However, for me, this would be my second in Europe, and Slimbridge is a mighty fine place, so not much difficulty in deciding to pay a visit.
My memories of the first Lesser Scaup were of a relatively distant blob that needed much scrutiny. Slimbridge provides its birds in rather more agreeable conditions! Sat in the nice heated hide, even sporting a carpet, out the window I gazed, a couple of hundred Bewick's Swans trumpeting and squabbling, various geese honking and ducks aplenty - Pintail, Shelduck, Gadwall, Pochards, Tufted Ducks, hundreds and hundreds of them, not hazy things off in the distance, but literally paddling just the other side of the glass! Hardly even needed binoculars. And there, almost served on a plate, floating between the two nearest islands, the Lesser Scaup, nicely lined up with two Greater Scaup and plenty of Tufted Ducks. Ah twitching is so much easier now!
And with that, I then had the rest of the morning to explore Slimbridge, the Severn flats bustling with flocks of Wigeon many thousands strong, plus occasional flocks of White-fronted Geese and the usual feral Barnacle and Canada Geese. Snow and ice now a thing of the past, so too was one meadow a carpet of waders - large numbers of Dunlin and Lapwing concealing a few added extras, Curlews and a Ruff or starters. A good morning, but regrettably it had to come to an end at midday, I had a flight to catch at 2.30 p.m., the Ryan special from Bristol back to Lithuania.
Unfortunately, I didn't catch it! But that is another story!!!
A short trip to the UK, but massive thumbs-up to Gilgrin Farm, truly today offering one of Europe's greatest single bird spectacles.
Day One.
Having not flown for all of five days and eager to bring my 2011 carbon dioxide emissions up to a respectable level, I decided it was time for another short foray overseas. To the west of Lithuania lies Great Britain, a green and pleasant land full of birds and smiling people. And so it was, battling through a raging blizzard in Lithuania, I left work on the Friday afternoon and trusted myself into the welcoming arms of Ryan Air, my flight arriving south of London just in time to plonk me on the M25 simultaneously with an enormous rain storm, a resultant multi-car pile-up promptly closing all but one lane of the motorway, thus leaving me in a nice traffic jam. Welcome to Blighty.
Day Two.
As a young whippersnapper based in Gwent way back in the 1980s, in an era before the reintroductions elsewhere in the UK, it was my annual pleasure to take a trip up to the magical mountains of mid-Wales, land of the Red Kite, still then a rare and endangered bird. A couple of Peregrines, a few Buzzards, a few Red Kites if lucky, my day would be made. Ah nostalgia.
As years went by, slowly the number of kites increased, trips notching up a dozen, then even twenty. A farmer, most enlightened, began a feeding operation - 2 p.m. every afternoon, choice meat dished out, local corvids no doubt rejoicing. The place was Gilgrin Farm, a few kilometres from Rhayader. Today the place needs little introduction, from those early days, the spectacle has simply eclipsed anything that could have been imagined. A half dozen Red Kites in the first year, up to 20 or so soon after, but in the intervening years, I have watched from afar as the news trickled out, the kite numbers reaching stratospheric proportions - supposedly many hundreds of birds now in regular attendance. And to think, in my days, there were just 20 to 30 pairs in the entire country!
Time for reaquaintance. A day trip in glorious landscapes, touring first the picturesque Elan Valley - the first Red Kites already hugging the horizons, quartering the hillsides and floating above stunted oak woodlands. Quite unexpected, the weather held fine, bright sun knocking aside a few heavy clouds. Bar the kites, few other birds of note - the reservoirs largely frozen, the woodlands near silent. Ravens perched upon the sheep, a few Common Buzzards soared as the day went on.
1 p.m. approached, there was only one place to be - Gilgrin Farm. And what an amazing spectacle, the skies were already absolutely full of Red Kites, swirling flocks mewing above, dozens more in treetops in all directions. A definite wow factor in play! Had a quick talk with the farmer, the numbers were even greater than I had expected - an incredible 600 had been visiting during the snows of the previous weeks, an estimated 500 still dropping in daily for the 2 p.m. hand outs. And two leucistic birds two.
Eyes a goggle, I wandered down to the hides - Red Kites and Common Buzzards already waiting. Time ticked by, the flocks grew ever larger, the purr of a tractor appeared from behind, food on its way. And with the growing rumble of the engine, a frenzy amongst the kites, the sky almost darkening as the flocks pressed in. Into the field came the tractor, its bucket totally full of chopped meat. Round the meadow he cast the offerings, Red Kites now going berserk, dive bombing and snatching morsels. The tractor departed, and thereafter unfolded one of the great bird events of Europe - an incredible hour of activity, hundreds of Red Kites in non-stop action, swooping to grab what they could, 30 or so Common Buzzards also lounging about, with Rooks, Ravens, Jackdaws and Carrion Crows not knowing when to duck and when to stuff their faces! Even one Grey Heron strutting in to take his fill. And there amongst them, the two leucistic kites - one near pure white, a right eyesore, the other more piebald, the first time I have seen such. Very nice birds they were.
The hour passed, the intensity of action slackened, so too did the sun vanish behind a cloud. A memorable afternoon indeed, time to depart, still Red Kites abundant above.
Day Three.
Something different. A quick look at the feeders in my mother's garden, one male Blackcap on the apples, then off to Slimbridge - a twitch in action, again nostalgia at work. Back in those halcyon days, when this Gwent lad would pop up to the Welsh mountains in search of elusive kites, the evil of twitching had also taken hold, me criss-crossing the country in search of the rare and new. One such bird had been in March 1987, travelling up to the 'wilds' of Staffordshire to see the first ever Lesser Scaup to touchdown in the UK. Common as muck now, a mere 150 or so seen in the years since! However, for me, this would be my second in Europe, and Slimbridge is a mighty fine place, so not much difficulty in deciding to pay a visit.
My memories of the first Lesser Scaup were of a relatively distant blob that needed much scrutiny. Slimbridge provides its birds in rather more agreeable conditions! Sat in the nice heated hide, even sporting a carpet, out the window I gazed, a couple of hundred Bewick's Swans trumpeting and squabbling, various geese honking and ducks aplenty - Pintail, Shelduck, Gadwall, Pochards, Tufted Ducks, hundreds and hundreds of them, not hazy things off in the distance, but literally paddling just the other side of the glass! Hardly even needed binoculars. And there, almost served on a plate, floating between the two nearest islands, the Lesser Scaup, nicely lined up with two Greater Scaup and plenty of Tufted Ducks. Ah twitching is so much easier now!
And with that, I then had the rest of the morning to explore Slimbridge, the Severn flats bustling with flocks of Wigeon many thousands strong, plus occasional flocks of White-fronted Geese and the usual feral Barnacle and Canada Geese. Snow and ice now a thing of the past, so too was one meadow a carpet of waders - large numbers of Dunlin and Lapwing concealing a few added extras, Curlews and a Ruff or starters. A good morning, but regrettably it had to come to an end at midday, I had a flight to catch at 2.30 p.m., the Ryan special from Bristol back to Lithuania.
Unfortunately, I didn't catch it! But that is another story!!!
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