In which I meet Charlie, and Mother England

NAIROBI, KENYA — It’s a little over a month now that I’ve been living in Africa, and as usual, it’s hard to believe the time has passed, though certain days along the way have dragged on very slowly. Before I continue posting about African birds, I really should tell you about an adventure I had en route — an afternoon of birding in southern England.

I’ve “known” Charlie Moores, formerly of Charlie’s Bird Blog and now of 10,000 Birds, since 2005 and have always admired his writing, his photographs, and his commitment to birding and conservation. Despite interacting online over the years, we’d never had a chance to meet in person, so when I discovered I’d have a 24-hour layover in the UK on my way to Kenya, I dropped Charlie a line. Miraculously (considering his globetrotting lifestyle), he was going to be in England and available for birding, so we arranged to meet at Heathrow.

I arrived early in the morning, barely having dozed on the plane, wandered through Heathrow (which, I have to say, is not the most inspiring airport in the world), and met a work colleague at a coffee shop for a meeting. Shortly after 1 p.m., Charlie arrived to collect me. By then, I had started slipping into that mild state of dissociation with which frequent international travelers are all too familiar. This was frustrating but couldn’t be helped, and I knew that Charlie of all people would understand. (International travel, in case you don’t know, is very humbling.)

My only previous birding experience in the Western Palearctic had been a brief stop in Paris, which isn’t known as the “City of Birds” (with good reason, it turns out), so Charlie took us first to the Royal Horticultural Society’s garden at Wisley, where we enjoyed many common British birds, like European Robin, Long-tailed Tit, and Goldcrest, all of which were lifers for me. Blue Tits were feeding fledglings, and greenfinches and goldfinches gobbled seed from a feeder as a White Wagtail dashed about on the grass.

The sun was warm, but the breeze was cool, and I couldn’t believe that we were in the midst of an English “heat wave.” House martins, a Common Kestrel, and a pair of Common Buzzards kept our eyes turned to the skies.

I felt as if I had known some of these birds, like the European Robin, all my life, even though I had never seen them before. Whether it’s too many nature programs, or books, or some sort of persistence in the wider American cultural memory, I can’t be sure, but it was intensely satisfying to finally see and experience them for myself.

Our primary destination, though, was Thursley Common National Nature Reserve, which protects unique and endangered heath and bog communities that are severely threatened by ‘development’ and afforestation in southern England.

Never having birded in Great Britain before, I had to rely almost completely on Charlie’s knowledge of bird distribution, calls, and identification, which fortunately is extensive. I learned that the open heath community supports several bird species that are scarce or absent elsewhere on the island, including Eurasian Hobby, Woodlark, European Nightjar, and Dartford Warbler.

Starting our hike across the heath, we soon located a pair of Eurasian Hobbies on the wing. This is a small, dark, aerobatic falcon. The first one I saw flipped over in midair, apparently snatching an insect in its talons. Wow.

Woodlarks took a little longer to find, but we finally did. They are a chunky, very short-tailed lark that tend to perch up on shrubs and small trees and look like small, stubby woodpeckers in flight. Not far away, their cousins the Eurasian Skylarks scampered through the heather and sang as they circled high in the air.

We could hear Eurasian Curlews calling from the boggy areas, but we made a couple of loops around before we finally spotted one. As the evening wore on and darkness began to fall, the birds flew back and forth across the wetlands, giving their haunting and evocative call as they flew.

As daylight faded, it was time to begin hunting for nightjars. A spectacular male European Green Woodpecker entering his nest hole provided a last-minute lifer for me, and then something in the heather caught Charlie’s eye.

It was almost dark when Charlie’s sharp ears picked up a calling nightjar. Had I been alone, I would have dismissed it as a trilling frog, for the long, undulating trilling sound is completely different from any of the nightjar calls in North America. We followed the sound across the heath and finally came to a narrow strand of trees. Before long, the nightjar left his perch and flew to another, clapping his wings and flashing the white bars at the base of his flight feathers as he went — all part of the display. I couldn’t really imagine a more spectacular ending to the day.

I thoroughly enjoyed birding and talking with Charlie and getting to know the English birds and countryside, and I have nearly two dozen life birds to show for it. Hopefully the next time Charlie and I meet up, I won’t be jetlagged out of my mind…but if I’m not, it probably means that he will be. Ah well.

Do read Charlie’s account of the afternoon; he has excellent photos of the Woodlark and the hobbies among other things. Here are a few more of my photos:

Related posts:

1. Meet some Cameroonian birds