Day One

January 5, 2021January 5, 2021 | Rebecca Gibson

I was determined to make the first day of the year full of wildlife so I headed to my favourite woodland spot to try my luck seeing red squirrels. As usual I was met by a gust of coal tits, brazenly unafraid of me, and once I’d settled down the more timid characters began to emerge. There were blue tits, great tits, siskins, dunnocks and chaffinches. Blackbirds rustled beneath the trees and a plucky robin perched within arm’s reach of me, gazing with that analytical expression typical of its species. I was soon in my element: enjoying the peace and quiet, tucked up warm against the cold and surrounded by birds.

A black and pink troop of long tailed tits caught my eye as they appeared one by one, hanging together off the branches. Mike Tomkies described them as “flying crotchets escaped from nature’s music sheet”, which I think is an impeccable piece of writing. And so true – long tailed tits have crotchety proportions with a golf ball body and a huge staff of a tail. But what enchants me most about them is their tiny little faces. Eyes and beak are all crammed into the exact same place, giving them a ridiculously cute expression. I love how they always travel in packs too. Despite being such dainty looking birds they soon dominate a space with both sights and sounds. One of their calls reminds me of a raspberry being blown. The next time you see long tailed tits listen out for it. A cheeky raspberry from an even cheekier bird.

Then I heard a different snap of sound on the breeze: the trill of a crested tit. I’ve only recently learned what a crestie sounds like and now I hear it regularly, often in places where I would never predict them such as over the most heavily pressed forest trails. I don’t always see them, but the beauty of recognising birdsong is it gives you the ability to meet a bird without actually clapping eyes on it.

And suddenly there it was. I’m hesitant to use the word “icon” because it’s become a cliché, but in the case of a crested tit there’s no other word for it. Found nowhere in the whole of the UK apart from the Scots pines forests of the Highlands, it’s a really special bird. I find cresties are also a real challenge to photograph on account of the ants in their pants. I’ve got a few photos of them now, but I’m still waiting for THE crestie shot.

As I sat marvelling, a bigger bird appeared and I almost clapped with happiness. A great spotted woodpecker landed right there in the open, which I’ve never seen before. If they’re not fifty feet up a tree they’re concealed behind so many branches that there’s no hope of a decent photo, but it seemed that today was my lucky day.

Although of course I was pleased to see so many birds, I was secretly hoping for a glimpse of red fur too. I waited patiently, watching countless tits and finches come and go, until eventually I turned to see what I thought was the robin again but was actually a red squirrel, standing two feet from my boots. It hopped leisurely across the pine needles to the tree and shimmied up the trunk, pausing just long enough in the crook of a branch for a photo before heading off. A very fleeting visit, but I was thrilled. When wildlife comes to me (rather than the other way around) I get an overwhelming feeling of acceptance. Both squirrels and birds alike must trust that I won’t hurt them and feel relaxed enough to come close, and that is a really special thing.

Sun in the Woods

May 13, 2017March 10, 2020 | Rebecca Gibson

After discovering Eskrigg and how fantastic a reserve it is, I really wanted to take Zahrah as she’d never seen a red squirrel before. After my success last time, I was sure we’d have some luck. I also wanted to give the Manager, Jim Rae, a copy of the film I made on the reserve for my assignment.

We arrived at lunchtime, so headed straight for the Eskrigg Centre to set up tripods and tuck into our Sainsbury’s meal deals. The feeders were busy as usual. I kept an eye out for reds, but in the meantime we watched siskins, a nuthatch, a woodpecker and plenty of chaffinches snatching a quick snack before zooming back into the trees. It looked like the visiting female mandarin had moved on – it was a shame not to see a male, but still exciting to be able to tick off a new species.

On my last visit, prime squirrel time was about 3pm, so after finishing up lunch and having our fill of the birds on the pond, we headed to the squirrel hide, joining a group of fellow photographers and twitchers. Coal tits swept across the clearing while robins hopped about on the ground. A lone male blackbird darted about with the species’ usual uncoordinated urgency, clutching a feast of flies and worms in his beak for a lucky brood.

An hour and a half passed with no fluffy red visitors. I was a little embarrassed, having shown Zahrah my photos from last time and taken her with me today with perhaps blasé confidence that we’d be overrun with squirrels again today.

The heat of the day was fading and under the cover of the trees it was getting cool quickly. The group of photographers shouldered their cameras and left, and soon we began to consider abandoning ship and coming back next week. Zahrah suggested we stay half an hour longer, and in the next ten minutes my eye caught on a bright orange tuft twitching behind a nearby tree. As I hurried to focus I breathed an enormous but hushed sigh of relief.

The squirrel approached slowly, sniffing the ground but pausing every so often to stand on its hind legs to look at us. I tried with all my might to catch these meerkat moments, but these animals are unbelievably nippy.

Soon, the squirrel was out in the open, collecting the hazelnuts that Jim had cracked and I’d sprinkled about. Pauses to eat were the best times to snatch some photos, when the animal’s only movement was a twitch of the tail. The way it clutched the nut in almost human hands and strategically nibbled was enough to make the coldest heart melt. As our cameras clicked I couldn’t help but gasp and squeal with excitement. Despite my interruptions the squirrel carried on feasting, scooping up all the nuts I’d left one by one.

Before long, a second squirrel joined the first, skirting down a tree to find any nuts that the first had left, a third soon joining them. One of these individuals had somehow lost an ear tuft, looking adorably wonky as it paused to nibble, tail curled over its back in the iconic position.

My memory card was filling up fast – I couldn’t help but keep snapping as the squirrels explored and foraged. For me it was a combination of their distinct personalities, lovable curiosity and cute outfits that had me obsessed. They ventured close, peering up at us with beady eyes and tiny parted lips.

I forgot to notice the growing chill but the slowly setting sun was beginning to make photography a challenge, especially when the squirrels’ rapid movement made a slow shutter speed impossible. We were about to finally pack up and leave when three more arrived, this time of the darker variety. So we stayed a little longer and kept taking photos. I had a sudden thought – if photography was still dominated by medium format film, I would have spent my entire student loan. The habit of only pressing the shutter for the perfect moment was admirable, but I don’t think everyone’s had the opportunity to photograph red squirrels.

When we eventually did get home, I uploaded the shots and assessed the damage. Six hundred and sixty photos, not bad at all.

The Wonders Of Watchtree

May 17, 2016May 13, 2016 | Rebecca Gibson

After nearly a year at university, Zahrah and I decided it was past time we paid Watchtree Nature Reserve a visit. Now I had the car, it was only a twenty minute journey. The result was one of the best wildlife encounters I’ve had.

We began the day in the wetlands hide. Almost immediately we were met by a group of goldfinches, swiftly followed by some tree sparrows, a species I’d never seen before. I’m used to seeing goldfinches in pairs, but it was a treat seeing even more at once. After gobbling a seed they would turn and study their surroundings, always on constant alert. I keep forgetting just how lucky I am to be an apex predator. I couldn’t imagine waking up each day and wondering if I’d end up being somebody’s breakfast. I commend the natural world for its gritty determination – we humans have so little to worry about in comparison.

After the goldfinches left we were joined by a great-spotted woodpecker and two more species I’d never seen before, redpoll and reed bunting. I couldn’t believe how soon the birds had come after we’d entered the hide.

After some quality time photographing the birds, we meandered past the marsh pasture. Here we saw more birds, including a lone oystercatcher and a buzzard wheeling overhead, pestered as always by corvids.

Then, eagle-eyed Zahrah cried out and pointed to a hare speeding along through the field. Too quick to even keep in frame let alone get a clear photo of, I watched the creature in awe as it bolted out of sight. They really are formidable animals, and not to be messed with.

Giddy with happiness at our good fortune, we visited Pow Woods to eat our sandwiches. After, we skirted the perimeter. I was just ducking under a low-hanging branch when I glimpsed something ivory-coloured. When I made out antlers I almost shrieked. Sat on a raised mound of grass was a roe buck skull, antlers intact. The jaw was missing, but it was still the most incredible thing I’d seen (perhaps dwarfed by the sei whale bones at Tullie House, but I’d found the roe all by myself).

For a while I’ve wondered why skulls are so often found without the rest of the body. As if the magic Pow Woods wanted to prove me wrong, twenty minutes later we found another roe skull, this time with its whole skeleton! This individual was female, lacking the prickly antlers. All her bones were laid out flat on the grass; scattered ribs, vertebrae still loosely set together and long slender leg bones.

By this point Zahrah and I were in disbelief. I relished the opportunity to study something so intricate and complex – skin and flesh had been stripped away to reveal the inner workings of a animal. A thousand questions popped in my own skull. How old was she? How did she die? Most of the bones were unbroken. Both skulls, male and female, had had their noses shattered. Later that evening, I discovered that foxes often chew this part of the skull to get at the nose tissue inside. I could only assume both deer had died of old age – surely nothing in Watchtree Nature Reserve would be big enough to take one down. Even in the wild, adult deer have few predators besides ourselves.

Zahrah and I walked back to the visitor centre in a daze. We’d seen a spectrum of birds, a hare, and now a complete roe deer skeleton. How could our day be better?

A live roe deer.

As we walked through the scot’s pine, a lone buck meandered across our path. No doubt he’d heard, seen and smelt us coming, but still took his time foraging, eventually disappearing into the trees. At the time my camera had been in my bag – shameful on my part – so the only shot I managed to get was his rear end as he melted away out of sight. Still, I valued the experience alone.

Safe to say, Zahrah and I are planning to return to Watchtree Nature Reserve in the very near future. Although, I’m not sure we can better this visit!

Deer Walking

January 13, 2016September 18, 2019 | Rebecca Gibson

In the nineteen years that I have lived in Hertfordshire, a thirty-minute train ride from London, I have never been to Richmond Park. This realisation dawned on me last week when I was home for Christmas. I was due to return to Carlisle that Sunday, so I seized my last opportunity and invited my friend from Wildlife Media, who lives in East London, on a trip to the park to see if we could see any deer.

I wasn’t quite aware how fiddly the tube journey to Richmond was – the District line is what my grandfather would undoubtedly describe as a ‘tricky customer’. But, after only getting on one wrong train, I found where I needed to be.

Finding the park was another challenge, but eventually we arrived, just as the rain started. I wasn’t sure how easy it would be finding any deer but within twenty minutes we’d stumbled across a herd of Fallow deer (Dama dama) about sixty strong. Not quite believing our luck, we set up and sat hunched in the rain for over two hours, barely noticing the time fly by.

We were positioned by a group of very relaxed bucks, who would occasionally butt heads almost lazily, as if inconvenienced by some extremely important responsibility. Often they wouldn’t even bother standing up, and instead opted to fight awkwardly whilst laid out on the grass.

We were sat by what we thought was Head Honcho, Buck No.1, judging by the size of his antlers. Therefore we were surprised when a buck further away began bellowing and chasing the does around. Buck No.1 did stand up at the commotion but didn’t respond, so led us to believe that although he was a very impressive looking individual, he wasn’t the dominant male in the herd.

When our legs were finally dead and a group of tourists had started to approach brandishing selfie sticks, we moved on. After walking about quarter of a mile, we saw two Green Woodpeckers (Picus viridis) and a whole group of chattering Ring-Necked Parakeets (Psittacula krameri). I’d heard about captive Parakeets escaping and colonising in the wild, but I’d never had the opportunity to see any.

A little further on we asked some dog walkers if they’d seen any Red deer (Cervus elaphus). Just after they told us they hadn’t and went on their way, they called us back and pointed over the hill to a large group of Red stags lounging in the sun.

There my friend and I were, trying not to jump up and down and shriek. Instead, we set up again and began capturing some shots. I was a little more intimidated this time because those stags were big old brutes. Luckily, they seemed to be in their golden years as they weren’t nearly as active as the Fallow bucks.

After a time we settled down for some food, and were joined by a pair of Egyptian geese (Alopochen aegyptiaca), which I’d never seen before. At the time I had no idea what they were, but I was astonished that a goose could look so beautiful.

By then it was mid afternoon and we were both cold and tired, so took the long route out of the park (unintentionally) and back to the station. A good day had by all.