Black and blue

I did some more evening birding over the weekend with a trip to see Nightjars on their breeding grounds along the Dutch border.  We got to watch several birds displaying, including lots of wing-clapping, and heard many more, with their churring song echoing around the heath as we left.  It was, however, my first trip to the heathland this year, so I went back yesterday morning to catch up with some of the diurnal specialties of this habitat.  A far too early start for my day off paid off with at least four Hobbies putting on a wonderful show as they caught dragonflies low above the Stappersven, which held two, summer-plumaged Black-necked Grebes.  The heathland was now filled with the song of Tree Pipit, Willow Warbler and Woodlark instead of Nightjars and I even found a dead, juvenile Smooth Snake along the road.  Best of all, though, were two very elusive species - Black Woodpecker seen twice and a singing Bluethroat.

June is by far the best time to visit the heathlands, which can almost seem devoid of birds, apart from the ubiquitous Stonechat, later in the summer.

Heathland highlights

Tree Pipit by Theo Hortensius

I made two separate trips to Kalmthout Heath over the weekend.  Saturday was very hot and it was rather quiet as a result, although there were Stonechats everywhere, with the usual heathland specialties of Tree Pipit and Woodlark also singing.  Despite checking lots of trees, I was unable to find a day-roosting Nightjar, so I returned there on Sunday evening to hear them singing.  The first one started churring at 21:43 and I even got to see the silhouette of one in flight with what little light remained at 22:00.  Whilst waiting for the Nightjars to get going, I managed to locate a singing Pied Flycatcher and enjoyed watching two Hobbies hunting low over the heather for what seemed to be moths, although the first dragonflies were already on the wing.

Birding in extremis

Earlier this week, I did an evening walk on Kalmthout Heath with the aim of trying for Nightjars.  I knew it would be tight, however, since recent observations seemed to indicate they should start singing around 10pm and my last train back was at 22:29, but the station was a 20-minute walk away.  Having had a nice walk around the heath, seeing at least five Woodlarks, two of which were carrying beakfuls of food for their unseen young, I finally heard the distant churring of a Nightjar at 21:58.  I wasn't sure at first, having not heard or seen one in Belgium since July 2007, but another then started calling considerably closer.  I reckoned I had to leave my spot by 22:03 in order to make it back to the station in time but, just as I was exiting the heath, yet another Nightjar started up, this time right next to the path.  It was too much to walk away from so I waited another couple of minutes, and was rewarded by the bird flying out of the trees and off over the heath, giving a brief but good view as it banked in the evening sun.  By now, though, it was 22h05, so I then had to run back to the station!  Since we're almost half way through the year and my year lists have now reached the point where progress is very slow, each blog post will now conclude with my progress, showing my year totals for both Belgium and Brussels, with the latest additions in brackets.

BE #198 (Woodlark, Nightjar)

BRU #107 (Marsh Warbler)

Bye bye winter

Within one week of me standing in the snow watching Woodcocks, our daytime temperatures had increased by a ridiculous twenty degrees. 
The cranes reacted immediately, with plenty of northbound migration as a result.  I thus did the long hike in the Ardennes I usually do each autumn, seeing around 900 cranes in total, plus several Red Kites.

Other new birds for the year included Lesser Redpoll, Bullfinch, lots of Crossbills, and a pair of Dippers I managed to find along the River Salm during my 20-minute wait at Trois-Ponts train station.

Before our winter visitors all disappear, I decided to try and add Bewick's Swan to my year list yesterday evening by visiting their roost on the Kalmthoutse Heide after work.  It was a beautiful evening as you can see below but the swans didn't arrive until 19:17, by which time it was almost dark and I was already on my way back.  They flew right over me calling, however, so I at least heard them, taking my list to 130 species by the end of February.

Patchy birding

It has been horribly grey and wet since I last wrote so I've not done much birding and have only added another 6 species to my 2021 year list, which now stands at 112.  A long walk criss-crossing Kalmthout Heath failed to produce the overwintering Great Grey Shrike, which seems to have relocated elsewhere, but did give me my first Water Pipits in Belgium since 2014.  I also visited my old patch of Mechels Broek, on the outskirts of Mechelen, for a winter-plumaged Red-necked Grebe.  This is the closest site to Brussels with a good range of habitats and, consequently, a nice variety of species, but I've not been there very often the past few years, as some bad management and lots of disturbance seem to have reduced its attraction to birds.  There were lots around, though, as you can see, with good numbers of Wigeon, Teal, Lapwing, Barnacle Goose and White-fronted Goose, an irregular species this far inland.  Finally, an unsucessful twitch to the male Baikal Teal in the Dijle valley did provide my first Willow Tits of the year. Willow Tit seems to be extinct in Brussels so the area south of Leuven is probably our closest reliable spot for them.

Back to business

We've still got a long, long way to go before we can even contemplate business as usual but, with the gradual relaxation of the confinement measures in Belgium, I was at least able to get out of Brussels for the first time since the beginning of March.  I thus visited perhaps my favourite nature reserve in Belgium, the heathlands along the Dutch border.  Naturally, visiting a totally new habitat I've not been able to get to so far this year provided a bunch of new species for my year list - Little Ringed Plover, Mediterranean Gull, Cuckoo, Skylark, Woodlark, Common Redstart, Tree Pipit and Reed Bunting.  There were lots of Common Redstarts around, and it was lovely just to be surrounded by birdsong once again, with a constant chorus of Tree Pipits, Willow Warblers and Stonechats.

This photograph of a singing Tree Pipit shows why they come all the way back from Africa each year since all those little black dots are flies.  With so many of them, the pipits have no trouble finding plenty of food for their offspring.  Most exciting of all though was a Peregrine I witnessed divebombing a Goshawk, after which the Goshawk took refuge in a patch of trees and seemed reluctant to take flight again!
The heathland is also a great place for dragonflies, with hundreds of Four-spotted Chasers, one of my favourites, but also this Northern White-faced Darter, which is not found anywhere else in Belgium.

As for butterflies, Green Hairstreak is pretty widespread but at is most numerous here, while the lovely Chequered Skipper is another species which is more or less restricted to this habitat so I don't get to see it very often.  This one had me lying on my stomach trying to get close enough for a decent picture and I'm quite pleased with the result.

More happy families

Migration has been plodding along since I last wrote, with a Red Kite going north past my balcony the day after my visit to the coast.  This was not only a new bird for my 'garden' list but also the first time I'd seen one in Brussels, where they're pretty rare, the small Belgian population being restricted to the south-eastern part of the country.  The following week, I was heading to the supermaket through my neighbouring park when I heard a distinctive rattling song which lead me to my first Lesser Whitethroat of the year.  Yesterday, I paid my first visit of the year to the beautiful heathlands on the Dutch border and, despite the cold, showery weather, we got to see a migrating Honey Buzzard as well as my first Swifts of the year.  The local breeders were in full song with Tree Pipits everywhere, several Cuckoos, and a Woodlark displaying right above our heads.  The early starters, on the other hand, are busy finding food for their chicks; we saw a family of recently-fledged Crested Tits and, back in Brussels, these Great Crested Grebe-lets constantly begging for food.

Seeing double

Over the weekend, I went back to Kalmthout Heath, which was full of singing Tree Pipits and Willow Warblers, with the occasional Common Redstart and quite a few Spotted Flycatchers.  Small Heath (above), Green Hairstreak and Brimstone were the only butterflies we saw, and we ended the day with a pair of Hobby sitting in the lakeside trees, waiting for the drizzle to stop.  I found another Spotted Flycatcher today, but this time in Brussels and on my regular patch, where I've not seen it before.  Baby Coots were everywhere;

I also saw my first damselflies of the year; one Azure Bluet and a couple of Large Red tandems, one of which posed nicely amongst the daisies.

Spring has sprung

What a difference twelve days make!  Last time I wrote, there was still no sign of any Chiffchaffs, whereas I heard my first one singing on 9 April and, this morning, they were all over my regular patch.  My first butterflies of the year were brought out by the sunny, warm conditions - this Comma, a Peacock and a Holly Blue.  Several Coots were already on nests whilst a pair of Egyptian Geese were attending five of these cute little fluffballs.

Since my last post I also made a short visit to Kalmthout Heath, which provided several displaying Woodlarks and my first Stonechat of the year but, apart from that and a surprise Merlin seen briefly in flight, the heath was deadly quiet awaiting the return of the rest of the summer migrants.

Late May round-up

Last week, I had another morning at my Brussels patch, seeing a total of 40 species.  The site has only ever had two records of Marsh Warbler, both of which were mine, so I was beginning to wonder if I might have been mistaken.  There were plenty of Reed Warblers singing but I then heard one bird which sounded distinctly different and was sticking to the bushes at the edge of the reedbed.  I got some brief glimpses of it but, crucially, I also got a short recording of its song, enabling me to confirm its identity as the third Marsh Warbler for the reserve, as well as reassuring myself about the accuracy of my previous records.  A male Bullfinch was a new addition to my site list, which now stands at 99 species!
I then spent a morning guiding a visiting birder around Mechels Broek nature reserve near Mechelen.  We managed a very respectable tally of 61 species with nothing really unusual, but fabulous scope views of Reed, Marsh and Sedge Warblers singing, allowing my visitor to get to grips with this difficult, skulky trio.
The weekend (both days!) was spent on Kalmthout Heath, where this Woodlark showed well as it took a  dustbath.  Tree Pipits were singing all over the place and I also caught up with some of the other summer migrants such as Common Redstart, Hobby and Mediterranean Gull.  As was the case at Mechels Broek, some constant begging calls led us to the location of a Great Spotted Woodpecker nest but, this time, we could see the entrance hole so I set up the telescope and waited for an adult to come in, with the hungry, red-headed juvenile appearing briefly to grab its meal.

Pretty in pink

Earlier this week, I had a walk around Kalmthout Heath.  It was very hot and quiet apart from a family of Black Woodpeckers which were making a lot of noise.  I also got to see Crested Tit, a migrant Whinchat, and several Grayling butterflies which are very localised in Belgium, being found only on sandy heathlands and in the dunes along the coast.  For some reason, there weren't many dragonflies around, forcing a juvenile Hobby to have a go at catching a White Wagtail instead.  The heather was in full bloom, however, producing these wonderful expanses of pink and purple carpeting the heath in every direction.

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.

Rush, rush

At long last, it has finally stopped raining!  We have had the equivalent of a usual January's total rainfall in the past two weeks so I've not been out much since last weekend.  Today, though, was very different with blue skies and some weak sunshine, so I headed to Kalmthout Heath.  The forest was, as is usually the case in winter, very quiet, until I suddenly found myself surrounded by a huge mixed flock of various tits, dozens of Goldcrests, Short-toed Treecreeper, and both Great and Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers.  At the same time, a Black Woodpecker made a brief appearance, no doubt checking what all the commotion was about.  Above the heath, there were lots of lines of White-fronted Geese which all converged on the flooded meadow; I counted at least 400 of them on the ground with still more to arrive.
By lunchtime, though, I was starting to feel cold so I decided to warm up on the train on my way to the suburbs of Ghent, where some Penduline Tits seem to be overwintering.  Strange place for what is usually a rare passage migrant in Belgium, I thought, until I arrived and saw bulrushes everywhere!  I don't think I've ever seen quite so many, so the Penduline Tits have got plenty of food to see them through the winter, and I soon found them feeding quietly on the seedheads.  There was even a Siberian Chiffchaff (below) doing exactly the same, although I couldn't tell if it too was eating the seeds or perhaps gleaning insects.

Golden goldeneye

As you've probably guessed from the lack of posts lately, I've not been out birding much the past couple of weeks and, when I have, there was very little to write about.  Today was particularly frustrating as I added three species to my year list but didn't get a good look at any of them.  First of all, in the Forêt de Soignes/Zoniënwoud, I glimpsed a Lesser Redpoll as it flew over calling. 
In the afternoon, I went for a walk on Kalmthout Heath, where a group of 30 geese passed low overhead, their calls giving them away as Tundra Bean Geese.  I also saw a very distant passerine feeding at the water's edge, which could have been anything really but the behaviour and habitat best fitted Water Pipit, which I later heard calling.  I may even have heard a Penduline Tit flying over but I couldn't locate it and I don't hear them often enough to be sure of that one.  Other than that and several Crested Tits, it was very quiet but the above first-winter, male Goldeneye entertained me for a while before providing a nice photo opportunity as it swam through the glow of the setting sun.