Back to the Birds

On the evening of June 19th, I headed up to Tarrant Rushton Airfield, once used for glider operations during World War II. I was hoping to hear and maybe record the song of a small, secretive migratory bird that winters in Africa, spending most of its time hidden in crops and tall grass. Parking off the Wimborne to Blandford road, I started the long walk toward some barn buildings. The warm evening breeze carried the jangling calls of Corn Buntings along the field edges, while Skylarks sang high overhead—a sound I always enjoy. At the first farm buildings, I spotted a Kestrel on a roof, scanning for prey. Moving past more crops, I listened for a Quail but heard only Skylarks and Linnets. Before long, I reached the familiar Sawmill area, but still no luck. Curious about what lay beyond the big bend in the road, I kept going, passing grassy fields and tall grass. I paused to scan toward Badbury Rings for an early Barn Owl, but instead spotted a pair of hares in the short grass—a treat in itself. Reaching the bend and seeing the harvested field ahead, I turned back, realising how far I’d come as the first farm buildings appeared as tiny dots in the distance. Near the Sawmill once more, I suddenly caught the faint call of my target bird, the Common Quail—“Wetmelips, Wetmelips”—growing louder.

A young Kestrel

Some Wonderful Hares

# Corn Bunting 149

# Quail 150

June 20th

Lytchett Fields;  

Walking down the aptly named Watery Lane (especially in winter), I was met with the sweet scent of lush greenery lining the edges and a small stream, while mighty oaks stood like sentinels among holly and hazel—oh, the stories they could tell. Overhead, the cheerful chatter of house martins followed me all the way to the viewing points. At first glance, there didn’t seem to be much about, but once my eyes adjusted, I spotted shelducks, black-headed gulls—including a Mediterranean gull—and some lesser black-backed gulls, along with a few black-tailed godwits and redshanks on what’s called Frenches Pool. After scanning the area, I wandered next door to the Sherford Pools viewing space, where teal, mallard, and a couple of gadwall were resting. Then, out of nowhere, an osprey appeared, heading toward Frenches; I dashed back just in time to see it joined by another, both making for Lytchett Bay. Watching them vanish over the bay was pure joy—until a marsh harrier arrived, gliding effortlessly above the reeds in search of prey. Back at Sherford Pools, I noted a couple of little egrets, a grey heron, and a lapwing. At first, nothing unusual, but on a second scan, there it was: a little ringed plover—then another—running along the edge of an island, a lovely addition to the Dorset list. As the tide began filling the pools, I decided to call it a day, when yet another osprey crossed from Frenches, soared over Sherford Pools, and disappeared over the heathland—perhaps to Morden Bog or maybe looping back toward the water by the Cordite Way. I’ll never know, but a sight it was.

The Osprey

Some insect life along the Watery Lane

Beautiful Demoiselle

Rutpela maculata

# Osprey 151

# Little ringed Plover 152

I’m a bit confused about my Dorset list. I use BirdTrack to record my bird sightings and Bubo to keep a list. On BirdTrack, the Dorset Recording area shows 153 species, while the Dorset County shows 146. To add to the mix, my Bubo list has 152 recorded species.