One hundred and one not out

Ah well, back again. Once a blogger always a blogger, I guess.  So to kick-start things for my 101st post, here is a slab of concrete.

It's my front drive actually, in urban north Newcastle. The only thing I can think of to say about it is that it's not very good woodcock habitat.  For example, when my wife went out to take the kids to school the other morning there wasn't a woodcock to be seen on it anywhere.

When she came back there was.  Dead as a dodo. Fresh as a daisy.

No doubt one of the gazillion cats round here did the damage but its notable in that it's the second successive year we've seen woodcock here -except that last year's was alive and well in the back garden. (If you missed that one you can catch up on the story and some interesting comments here)

The opportunity for a decent look at the plumage was too good to miss, and what a beautiful bird it really is - particularly on the scapulars and the upper wing coverts shown below.

Wonderful leafy camouflage and therein probably lay this one's downfall. My guess would be that it dropped into the street after a lengthy migration flight to the UK and holed up, knackered, under a bush somewhere, only to get Tiddlesed for its trouble. Pesky things - dumping in me raised beds and knobbling me woodcocks. Grrr gnash.

The tail feathers are very distinctive, should you ever come across one.  The shape is unusual with a tapered, squared end and the tip is lighter on the upper side but flip it over and it's bright white.

Reading feathers

Trying to make sense out of a pile of feathers is an enjoyable if sometimes frustrating experience.  I was wandering along a ride in a coniferous plantation in Northumberland at the weekend and came across this scene of destruction.

I collected a sample of the different types of feathers and the photo below show a selection of wing feathers, the bottom one being the outermost leading edge primary from the left wing and, for scale, about 145-150 mm long.

Having pored over Tracks and Signs of Birds of Britain and Europe by Brown, Ferguson etc, I am reasonably confident that this is a woodcock.

The next question is what predator was at work here? Well, given that this was in a north of England coniferous plantation, I reckon that the options are fox, stoat/weasel, sparrowhawk, goshawk or buzzard. If I'm right and its a woodcock then this could either have been caught in flight and brought into the woodland for plucking, or nabbed while on the ground.

First of all I've ruled out fox, weasel and stoat as none of the feathers had been bitten through - they were all plucked clean. So I'm inclined to a bird of prey kill.  If its a woodcock then the size would probably rule out male sparrowhawk.

So is it female sparrowhawk, goshawk or buzzard?  I'm not entirley sure but in amongst the feathers were these:-

In a fanciful moment I could put these down as ripped out from the chest of a goshawk as the doomed woodcock kicked and screamed then gasped its last....and, the oracle on such matters (aka John Steele)  confirms that they are indeed breast feathers from.....a woodcock. Ah well, dream on.

Shedding light on a Shelduck

The wing of this freshly dead shelduck I found on the shore looks unremarkable. Until, that is, you shed some light on it from the right angle and watch as it is transformed into the most beautiful of structures.

The colour is not really there in the feathers.  Its all down to physics apparently - an illusion created by the effect the fine structure of the feather has on light that hits it at the right angle.  The shiny barbs act like miniature mirrors that reflect light and tiny prisms that split it into its component rainbow colours - some of which get absorbed and some reflected back.  Ducks in particular have this effect on the upper surfaces of the secondary wing feathers producing a specific coloured panel - the speculum. Why particularly there, I've no idea, but it certainly contributes greatly to the beauty and appeal of ducks.  Now who was it again that said, 'From the troubles of the world I turn to ducks'?  Sensible person whoever it was....

Goldfinch clincher

When I found this feather lying on the pavement I was sure it was from a goldfinch but its always good to have it clearly confirmed by a reference.  And if its a bird (or even just a bit of a bird) you're in luck because the level of detail that's available is truly impressive. This book is 'Tracks and Signs of the Birds of Britain and Ireland' by Roy Brown etc.

Not only does it confirm that this is a primary feather from a goldfinch but, by its length, it is the 9th primary of 10 (i.e. the second one in from the tip of the wing) and its from the left wing. Furthermore you can find out when the adult moults its feathers. Mid July to mid October if you must know - unlike the juvenile which moults in August and September. (Note the wear and tear at the tip, by the way.)

Just about everything about birds has been inspected and detected, but you try and find out what the larva of the common or garden noon fly eats or how a tiny insect makes an oak leaf produce such weird and wonderful galls and you might as well give up now.