Autumn is definitely here now. It’s gloomy and windy, with drifting
rain. Dartmoor is settling back into
herself after a fitful summer. Most
birds are quiet, with just Robins, Woodpigeons and the occasional Wren
singing. There are a few Swallows and House
Martins still carving the air, and one or two Chiffchaffs lisping
apologetically in the undergrowth, but little sign now overall of the summer
migrants that enliven this valley in numbers.
There is a large charm (super-charm?) of Goldfinches bouncing around -
about eighty of them, which could be the largest flock recorded here. Many of them are youngsters lacking the
crimson face of their parents. It’s hard
to gauge numbers as they’re always on the move.
Delightful birds that always give me a shot of pleasure. I don’t think any of those juveniles were
raised here – for some reason they appeared to shun us this summer. Jays and Bullfinches have been very evident
for the past couple of months; Jays longer than that as their numbers seem to
have increased – something I’ve noticed everywhere I go. Jays and Bullfinches rhyme visually, with
their pink bodies and white rumps. Both
also have rather unprepossessing calls, though very different in timbre. It’s as if the resident birds have vanished
for the time being, ceding the greenery to these two. Migrants may be teeming on wetlands, and
coastal headlands will be experiencing the exciting vagaries of autumn
migration, but here on Dartmoor September represents a lull in proceedings,
after many of the summer migrants have gone and before the winter visitors
arrive. A Wheatear at Combestone Tor two
days ago was a not unexpected pleasure – this is a place where they often stop
off in the autumn.
Two river birds are more in evidence lately. I watched an immature Cormorant yesterday,
white of bib and sinuous of neck, as it peered around prior to flapping
clumsily off its rock and heading downstream.
I thought how underrated this bird is - not much to look at colour-wise,
but extremely sculptural, as though carved out of dark wood (even the
scaly-looking scapular feathers appear hand worked), and perfect of form. Likewise, Dippers are more noticeable in the
last few days after a summer scarcity on this stretch. They share some similarities of colour, design
and texture with Cormorants (immature ones at least), with their scaly,
timber-dark backs and white aprons. One
curtseying on a rock in the river was just a slightly different shade of brown
to the peat-flushed water, nictitating membrane winking over the eye. I thought how long the beak looked – longer
than I picture it and than illustrations often show. One yesterday was using this fine instrument
to shake and then swallow a small fish that it had caught in the shallows.
