Late August in my favourite place-Portsdown Hill. A ridge of rare chalk cliffs and grasslands that cut through the city, heaving with people. The sweeping meadows were fat with seeds; the bulk of wildflowers dying off now, leaving behind their hollow brown skeletons. The Dogwood was turning scarlet, and in the woodlands down by the sea leaves were bronzing for Autumn.
Overhead the blue skies thronged with chirping. Swifts, Swallows and Martins were congregating ready to return to their Wintering grounds in Africa and Southern Europe. It was a magical scene. If you ignored me, flat on the ground, pulling myself through the dirt, leaving behind a trail of dust clouds.
But I had good reason! Ahead of me on the path perched a curious little Wheatear. The second Wheatear I’d ever seen! and the last one I’d seen whilst also lost in an expanse of sand dunes in Cornwall, more focused on finding my way home.
Though regular Summer migrants to Scotland, Wales, N and SE England, along the rest of S England where I am, they only pass through occasionally, en route to/from their breeding grounds, so I was very keen to get a good look at her. She was about the size of a Pipit-larger than a Robin but smaller than a Thrush. To non-birders she probably looked like an awesomely boring bird. Pale yellowy brown body, the odd grey marking here and there, nothing very eye-catching. But not to me!
She didn’t quite have the males’ sharp grey and black suit, but when the sun caught her, her whole body lit up amber, chestnut and orange, like a fiery sunset, inky eyes twinkling.
That was what had caught my attention. Running past after a butterfly, I just caught that tiny glint out the corner of my eye. She was perched atop some brambles, watching me, looking puzzled. She was surprisingly tame at first…until I clicked my camera on, and she flew off down onto the dirt track.
Rule one of fieldcraft: never approach an animal straight on, it’ll know you’ve seen it and leg (or wing) it. So, I moved in a painfully slow arc, squatting close to the ground, camera out. And she did exactly the same (minus the camera + painful squatting).
Until me at one end of the dirt track and her at the other, I had the brilliant (or stupid) idea to sing to her! Male Wheatears managed it; how hard could it be? I had no clue what one sounded like, so just started whistling and hoped something might happen. And it did! Whether she thought “Ooo, that sounds like a powerful male Wheatear-he might be worth knowing” or “WhAt ThE hEcK iS tHaT!? HoW dO i GeT iT tO sToP!?” she finally stayed still, cocking her head. She was listening!
And that’s how I got to where I am now. Lying flat on the dirt track, covered in mud, whistling my lungs off, inching forward bit by bit. And her, stood their proudly, amber chest glowing in the late afternoon sun.
At one point I thought it was all over... A group of teenage girls in their painfully bright white shoes appeared at the other end of the path, walking towards us. When they saw me and stopped, I probably looked a little dodgy lying down, hiding in the grass with a camera pointed at them, but I didn’t care-they took one look at me and went back the way they came in silence. All the while I kept whistling, hoping the Wheatear wouldn’t see them.
And she didn’t! Eventually I got so close I could almost touch her! She started getting fidgety though, turning slightly like she was about to fly off. I moved my camera up and peered through the viewfinder. She ruffled her feathers ready to take off. I pressed the shutter button. And a second later she was gone. But I’d got the picture!!
コメント