The Manchester Birder

I harken back to younger days much more often than I used to.  Perhaps it's an age thing, or maybe a side effect of recovering from a period of poor mental health.  Either way, I often find my recent birding thoughts stretching back through my mind to the nostalgia that dwells in the formative memories of my teenage birding experiences. As a child my family lived well below the poverty line.  We had nothing really, and while my childhood wasn't sad it was sometimes difficult and I was very aware of what we didn't have.  My way of coping with that was to read when it was raining or dark, and go birding when it was light and dry.  I was always so grateful to be invited birding with people, and their generosity with time has had such an impact on my life.  I've written before about the incredible volunteers who gave their time and skill to teach a whole group of us how to appreciate nature, but the best thing that came out of that was the informal trips that I...

For the last two years I have found February has been a slog of a month.  Cold, wet, little noteworthy locally means it's a month to be endured until March comes with the relief of spring migration.  With that said, there have been some days of excellent birding both within the 10km circle and beyond. I've spent much of the month preparing for and then searching actively for Goshawks in the local area.  I know they're around - I found a juvenile in a flyby last autumn and that report led to learning a little more about the population and their breeding range.  I've invested a lot of time into OS maps and then following up to check on habitat and narrowed my search down to a particular valley in the West Pennine Moors, just over the border into Lancashire.  Because my birding exploration and focus has been the 10km circle for the last five years I have relatively limited knowledge of the bordering counties and this next step out has left me feeling a bit amateuri...

I spent 5 hours trying to find Willow Tit on Monday.  My mate Andy found a Hooded Merganser on his Bristol patch.  I was delighted for him, jealous of him, and not a bit surprised.  He puts the time in, and his fieldcraft and knowledge are excellent.   Myself, I found a Mistle Thrush this week.  Draw your own conclusion.   My focus has been a bit different recently: I've been thinking of Goshawks.  I've never taken a photo of a Goshawk.  I've seen many, usually a distant displaying shape over a valley, and though the views have been good they have not been conducive to photography.  I'd like a photo of a Goshawk, and I know the increasing population particularly in the south means I could travel and seek some information from birders to help me find a location to get some photos.  But I've decided not to. I've decided, on hearing a rumour that there are Goshawks moving into the wider local area, that I will search for them myse...

Parakeets divide opinion amongst birders.  My ex-wife generally loves wildlife but she absolutely despises parakeets because to her they ruin the soundscape of the birds she grew up hearing.  I understand that point of view, but they're here to stay, and no amount of rueful anger will put this toothpaste back into the tube. The Parakeet issue parallels another issue in birding.  I am undeniably middle-aged.  I'm not old-fashioned - I have teenage children and worked with young people for twenty years - but I am definitely not young.  I can't manage more than one social media platform (probably why almost nobody is reading this), and I spend as much time as most scrolling through nonsense on my phone or the internet.  With that said, I'm an inveterate reader and would pretty much prefer long form written content over any other.  It's why I write a blog - that and my general lack of visual appeal because nobody needs to see more of me.  However, jus...

I'm not a gull guy.  Honestly, they don't do much for me.  I know the purists will point to identification challenges, and the ubiquitous nature of the gulls of the UK, and I know there are some beautiful species of gull.  But.  They're just, you know, gulls.  The very quality of being ever present in or over almost all environments in this country possibly breeds some contempt, and I am guilty of being one of those people who sighs when others find scarce gulls in local flocks and says out loud, "I should really learn my gulls properly," and then discards that statement like a New Year Resolution on January 6th.   I've encountered a little hierarchy of birding expertise - people who can "do gulls" seem to be venerated and given extra credit, and fair play to those who have spent that much time sorting through flocks of at least fifty shades of grey: you were willing to put the time in to learn all those variable plumages and frankly, I'm not.  W...

The owl at the top of this post has nothing to do with what I've written. It's only there to encourage you to click the link, because people love owls.   When I studied theology in my youth there was a growing movement of Christian capitalism that, with its roots in American middle class gospel respectability, leached into the spiritual lives of people in the UK.  The symptoms of this movement were an increasingly branded form of religion: the right type of cover on your Bible, the latest moody quasi-religious Jesus-is-my-girlfriend album by a young solo guitarist, the proliferation of greetings cards with a Bible reference printed in front of an inspiring sunset.  There was a huge wave of tat produced, sold in a chain of high street shops called Wesley Owen, products that demonstrated devotion to the ideal.  We called it "Christian Crap".  It was a strangely expensive collection of items that accumulated on top of an ideology like foam on water - superfici...