Eureka!

I decided to spend last night in the Ardennes in the hope of finally adding Tengmalm's Owl to my Belgian list.  Not long after I started my night-time walk, I heard what I thought was one in the distance but it was very faint and too brief to be sure.  Despite heading in the general direction of where it seemed to come from, I never heard it again, so unfortunately had to leave it as unconfirmed.  Some time later, though, I did get to listen to a Long-eared Owl singing, so my nocturnal wanderings were not in vain. 
This morning, I had a walk around the area to see which diurnal birds were around.  A singing Blackcap greeted me, seeming rather out of place with the thick, overnight, frost around.  There were lots of Fieldfares, Dippers displaying, Willow Tits singing, some bright Yellowhammers, and even a Muskrat gathering nesting material in the river.  Right at the end of the walk, I noticed a tortoiseshell butterfly sunning itself on the path.  My instant reaction now is to take a photo of these, as you can't really differentiate between them in general field conditions and, sure enough, this one turned out to be my first Large Tortoiseshell.  I've been wanting to see this species for several years and have even made a couple of trips especially to no avail so I was not expecting to find one of these, albeit a very worn individual presumably just out of hibernation.  Eureka!

Black magic

When I first moved to Brussels over fifteen years ago, my very first walk in the Forêt de Soignes/Zoniënwoud produced a pair of Black Woodpeckers chasing each other around a tree trunk in courtship.  This is going to be great I thought yet, despite hundreds of visits to the forest since then, that sighting has not once been repeated and, more often than not, getting a brief, in-flight view of a Black Woodpecker is about all I can hope for.  Yesterday,  I decided to take a walk around Kalmthout Heath in the hope of catching up with the lingering Great Grey Shrike before it finally leaves, but it was nowhere to be seen.  The heathland was alive with recently-arrived Stonechats, however, and it took me a while to realise it was them making the scratchy song I was hearing since I'd not heard it for the past nine months or so.  Woodlarks were also singing with four showing well as they chased each other in a territorial dispute.  Other than that, the heath was very quiet.  Towards the end of the walk, though, I heard a noise I couldn't place and soon located two Black Woodpeckers chasing each other round a small birch tree.  I presumed it was another courtship display but it turned out to be two males!  They were perched on opposite sides of the trunk, with one bird occasionally poking its head around the tree towards the other, thus prompting some vigorous sky-pointing by both birds, accompanied by low clucking calls.  This was repeated over and over again for the next 15 minutes without either bird moving from the spot, and was presumably some kind of territorial display.  In any case it was wonderful to watch, and made my long, cold walk around the heathland more than worthwhile.

Spring forward

Spring has leapt forward since my last post as, yesterday, I was finally able to do some Brussels birding to a background chorus of Chiffchaff song.  A discreet sieeuw call alerted me to the presence of two Reed Buntings hiding in the reeds, and the above bird was one of two handsome, male Black Redstarts in summer plumage which were busy chasing each other around.  My first butterfly of the year, probably a Small Tortoiseshell, fluttered quickly by, and the forest, which is still totally devoid of leaves, is at least starting to show signs of life at ground level as the dainty, little Wood Anemones are coming into bloom.

Wot, no Chiffchaffs?

Despite the prediction I made in my last post, the first half of this month has been strangely lacking in Chiffchaffs.  A long walk around my Brussels patch last week didn't turn up any at all but did provide a welcome surprise when I looked up to try to locate a calling Hawfinch and noticed 14 Cranes passing silently overhead!  A full day hiking in the Ardennes last weekend didn't turn up any cranes but did give us several sightings of both Red Kite and Raven, as well as my first Tree Sparrows and Bramblings of the year.  The latter were feeding together with Chaffinches and Crossbills in an area which was teeming with Siskins, their calls reverberating all around us.  It was amazing to listen to and, judging from the noise they were making, I reckon there were possibly several hundred of them even if we only saw a few dozen.
Back on my patch this afternoon, about a week behind schedule, I finally connected with two Chiffchaffs feeding quietly in some waterside trees but I'm still waiting to hear that repetitive chiff-chaff song so typical of spring.  The resident birds are in full song, however, including Marsh Tit (below) and even a Firecrest today, whilst other species are busy nesting and the first Egyptian goslings have already hatched!

Bits and pieces

Work has unfortunately gotten in the way of birding since my last post so all I've been able to do is a few short outings within Brussels.  My regular patch on the edge of the Sonian Forest remains very popular with photographers who scatter generous helpings of seed to try and attract the birds.  As you can see below, though, the Bank Voles have also discovered this bounty; I counted at least five of them coming to this particular log.

There was a sudden influx of Firecrests into Brussels Park last week, and it is only a matter of days now before we should be hearing the first Chiffchaffs of the year.  The region of Brussels doesn't boast much farmland but what little there is can be good for some atypical 'city' birds.  Yesterday, I found a pair of Grey Partridge as well as a single Skylark hiding in the same stubble field but was much more surprised to find a large flock of 40+ Linnets wheeling around Neerpede, in the south-western corner of the city.

Déjà vu

It was a beautiful day at the coast today and strongly reminiscent of my last visit to the polders, especially when a 600-strong group of White-fronted and Barnacle Geese landed in the flooded meadow right in front of me.  The Zwin nature reserve, despite still being under construction, held a nice little group of Grey Plovers plus one Ringed Plover, and I found 5 clockwork-toy Sanderlings scurrying to and fro on the beach.  Other than that, though, it was exceptionally quiet and I was done by mid-afternoon so I decided to finish the day with a twitch to the four Waxwings in Blankenberge.  They've been in the same residential area for the past two weeks and have attracted a steady flow of birders as they seem to be the only ones of their kind overwintering in Belgium at the moment.  It only took a ten-minute walk from the train station before I found them but, as they were backlit, the only shots I could get were of their distinctive silhouette.

One last gander

I went back to the polders earlier this week for one last look at the flocks of geese before they start heading north again.  As you can see, there were plenty of White-fronts around but the Barnacles were the most numerous, with a conservative estimate of 1300 to 1500 individuals.  Try as I might to spot a Red-breasted Goose among them, all I could find was a hybrid Cackling x Barnacle, although I did eventually locate just two Pink-footed Geese in a group of White-fronts.  There were quite a few Grey Partridges calling, an early Marsh Harrier, and a Spotted Redshank.

Yesterday, Brussels had an exceptional day for rare birds.  I first managed to twitch an immature Iceland Gull which was found along the canal, arriving just ten minutes before it disappeared!  It was too far away for me to take its picture but another observer did manage to get some nice shots earlier on; see http://bru.waarnemingen.be/waarneming/view/97816840.  After that, I went back to Roodklooster/Rouge-Cloître where a Bittern seems to have taken up winter residence and has been teasing me by remaining hidden in the reeds on every visit I've made there so far this year.  This time, I waited till nightfall and finally got great views of it as it clambered up onto its roosting perch just as the last light was fading.