BIRDS-NESTING IN THE IPSWICH NEIGHBOURHOOD.
BIRDS-NESTING
55
IN THE IPSWICH
NEIGHBOURHOOD. BY T .
G . POWELL,
B.A.
THERE may be a few here and there, among the Members of our Society, devoted like myself to the sport of Birds'-nesting pure and simple : to such these notes of one who has done some " birding " in this neighbourhood should be of interest. I thought when I became a man to put away childish things and among them, of course, " the pursuit of little birds " : but far from i t ! My youthful attachment was a mere flirtation : my devotion of later years has become a strong passion. I make no apology whatever for considering Birds'-nesting, with or without a camera, the finest and most fascinating of all pastimes. T h e r e is no moment so thrilling as that which marks the successful termination of a quest of weeks, perhaps even years, when one looks at long last into the beautiful nest, well stocked with eggs, of a fresh species. These notes are upon merely a selection of the more interesting of the commoner birds that nest in our neighbourhood : other observers may be able to describe rarer ones. Phylloscopus rufus, Bech.—One seems to hear and see surprisingly little of that early migrant, the Chiff-chaff, after its first arrival. I have never found or seen a nest here, though it appears to breed sparingly near Butley. Last year, in a copse on Martlesham Heath, there was a bird which combined in equal proportions the notes of the Willow-Warbier (P. trochilus, L.) and the Chiff-chaff. Phylloscopus sibilatrix, Bech.—Our delightful little summer visitor, the Wood-Warbier, quite uncommon in E. Anglia, probably does not breed in this immediate neighbourhood; but there is a spot in east Suffolk where single pairs have generally nested for the past few years, and in 1931 it established itself there in some force : four or five pairs at least. T h e Situation of the nest is identical with that of the Willow-Warbler, but construction seems more substantial with the cup deeper and the lining, of course, lacks feathers. Its song, " the woodland sound which is like no other," cannot compare in beauty with the Willow-Warbler's, but it is certainly thrilling and especially so when one has waited and watched for years ! Motacilla Raii, Bon.—The Yellow Wagtail is not uncommon, but found chiefly in the swampy districts, e.g. Boyton marshes and the upper waters of the Butley River. In 1925 it nested >n a rough ploughed field near Bourne Bridge ; and during 1931
56
BIRDS-NESTING
IN
THE
IPSWICH
NEIGHBOURHOOD.
I found a nest in one of the watery hollows that mark the old course of the Ore at Shingle Street [in Hollesley, plainly indicated by Norden's Survey of AD. 1601.—Ed.]. Lanius collurio, Linn.—The Red-backed Shrike nests in bushes along Foxhall road, on Bixley Heath and about Dobbs Lane. I t has two types of eggs : either pinkish or greenish in hue, the former very beautiful. I have seen no sight in the bird world so expressive of resentment, even truculence, as that of a Shrike perched near his nest, " chuck "-ing and twirling his tail at the too-close visitor. Emberiza miliaria, Linn.—I fancy the Corn Bunting is not common. Four or five years ago it nested close to Bixley Heath. Alauda arborea, Linn.—To know the Wood-Lark is to love it. Everything about it is attractive : its confiding ways, its " fluty " call-notes, its charming nest and eggs, even its dumpy appearance. It nests regularly round the heaths to the east of our town and the beautiful song can always be heard there. I have been on the old tumulus beside the Foxhall road* late on a warm June evening and listened to the winsome, appealing notes of the Wood-Lark somewhere high up in the saffron afterglow of sunset: ethereal music falling from the gates of heaven. [Major E. Charles Moor reports A. arborea as nesting also in Bealings Parva on 16 May 1932.—Ed.] Caprimulgus Europaus, Linn.—The most fascinating Nightjar nests on the heaths round Ipswich ; but the exact locality seems to vary from year to year, probably depending on the condition of the bracken and other environment. A few years ago, I used to find " nests " on both Bixley and Playford heaths : during 1931 they were on Martlesham Heath. To flush the male Nightjar is always a startling and delightful experience : the flight. erratic, gliding, hovering, undulating, is beautiful to watch and its beauty is enhanced by the dark rieh colouring of plumage with its pure white spots on wings and tail. Asio otus, Linn.—I have seen nests of the Long-eared Owl in Bridge Wood, and it probably breeds about other timber in the neighbourhood. In 1925 and 1927 I found a couple of nests in (the remains of) Tangham Forest. The nestlings feil through the bottom of one of these to the ground, a distance of twenty or thirty feet, but the parent birds successfully brought them up. *Well known as Pole Hill, which name gives us a date soon after the Viking raids and settlement of 870, since it is pretty surely commemorative of the Norse god P O L seu Baldaeg : it cannot be the Welsh P W L L because no brook is in the vicinity of this tumulus. T h e numerous barrows in this district were found (Ipswich Field Club, Report 1921, pp. 1-14) to vary in antiquity f r o m the Bronze Age of 1400-1100 B.C. to " certainly of Anglo-Saxon date."—Ed.
BIRDS-NESTING
IN T H E
IPSWICH
NEIGHBOURHOOD.
Fulica atra, Linn.—I have seen hardly any Coot in the neighbourhood, but a few years ago a pair nested on the mere at Purdis Heath. I cannot say if it breeds there still. CEdicnemus scolopax, Gmel.—Fortunately Stone Curlew, the bird of the wide open wastes, is well holding its own in our district. Its wild, melancholy cry mav be heard on most of the great heaths east of Ipswich : Martlesham, Sutton, Hollesley, Alderton, etc. T h e couple of large and handsome eggs, laid in a slight scrape, for some reason nearly always lie a little apart. Last spring I noticed a Curlew hustling a Weasel or Stoat (Putorius sp.) away from the vicinity of its nest. JEgialitis hiaticula, Linn.—The Ringed Plover is usually associated with the sea-shore, but it breeds inland in suitable places ; and I have found it nesting on Martlesham and Playford heaths, as well as in a rough field close to Sutton Walks. Totanus ochropus, Linn.—There is something arresting about the wild music of the Redshank's cries. When one hears its " tewk-tewk—tew-yew " in April or May, there is absolutely nothing to be done but watch and search, but chiefly watch, tili one discovers the beautiful richly-coloured eggs, sometimes well hidden under a close " t e n t " of grass-stalks, at others in more open nests. I have found nests in the swampy ground by Belstead Brook; and during 1931 on Martlesham Heath and Sutton Common. T h e following list of eighty-seven kinds of Birds that have certainly nested in recent years within about a ten-miles radius of Ipswich lays, of course, no claim to completeness :—Blackbird, Blackcap, C o m Bunting, Reed Bunting, Coot, Tree Creeper, Cuckoo, Stone Curlew, Stock Dove, Turtle Dove, Goldcrest, Bullfinch, Chaffinch, Hawfinch, Goldfinch, Greenfinch, Spotted Flycatcher, Great-crested Grebe, Yellow Hammer, Sparrow Hawk, Heron, Jackdaw, Jay, Kestrel, Kingfisher, Lapwing, Sky Lark, Wood Lark, Linnet, Nuthatch, Mallard, House Martin, Sand Martin, Moorhen, Nightingale, Nightjar, Barn Owl, Little Owl, Tawny Owl, Long-eared Owl, Partridge, Redlegged Partridge, Pheasant, Wood Pigeon, Meadow Pipit, Tree Pipit, Ringed Plover, Redbreast, Lesser Redpoll, Redshank, Redstart, Rook, Com. Sheld-duck, Red-backed Shrike, Com. Snipe, Hedge Sparrow, House Sparrow, Tree Sparrow, Starling, Stonechat, Swallow, M u t e Swan, Swift, Little T e r n (at Langer, etc.), Missel Thrush, Song Thrush, Blue Tit, Cole Tit, Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Marsh Tit, Pied Wagtail, Yellow Wagtail, Garden Warbler, Reed Warbier, Sedge Warbier, Willow Warbier, Wheatear, Whinchat, Com. Whitethroat, Lesser Whitethroat, Green Woodpecker, Great and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, Wren and Wryneck.
WOODLAB K'S
NEST.
NEST
OF
REDSHANK.
POLE
HILL.
58
BIRDS-NESTING
I N THE IPSWICH
NEIGHBOURHOOD.
I had the delightful experience of discovering an unofficial Bird Sanctuary in May 1932. While traversing one of our glorious heaths I noticed a grassy track, which led off the road and, on the spur of the moment, I took it. After some hundred yards through sparse pine wood, it led to another area of heathland and waste, sandy soil. Into this secluded area marauding man seemed seldom to have encroached; for, as I advanced, the place became alive with birds. Lapwings rose all around from their nests or young and performed their wondrous aerobatics, resembling black and white rags tumbling about the sky, as the air resounded with the weird music of their cries. Amid this clamour I walked further and encountered several pairs of Wheatears, less demonstrative but equally surprised and resentful at my intrusion. They skimmed in level, straight flights from one eminence to another, plainly marking their course by their white rumps. In some of the rabbit-holes were their nests a-building, but not easily found. Skylarks rose twittering and flickering everywhere. Some distance ahead a shadowy form was slinking through the sparse stubs of last year's bracken : Could it be that haunter of the wide wastes, that aloof bird of mystery, the Stone Curlew ? All doubt was settled when its run broke into a flight and the great bird, with arched and whitebarred wings, flew low away, just as from a distance came the melancholy, yet musical, wail of his mate : " tewlee-tewlee." T h e pair of handsome eggs are easily found, lying out conspicuously in the sunshine.
Now my desecrating footsteps approached the further sandy waste, where each impression broke the soft earth-crust. Rabbits scurried hither and thither in battalions and even armies at the advance of the universal enemy, their white bobbing tails as scintillant as the Wheatears'. But the most delightful surprise of all awaited me y e t : for Ringed Plovers were nesting in numbers. One generally associates these charming birds with the windy spaciousness of the seashore ; though here, in the shimmering sunlight, the flashes of pearl and silver, the white of their raised wings as they alighted, their fluty call-notes that seemed a blend of anxiety with friendliness, all harmonised beautifully with the heathland scene. Anon a pair of gorgeous Sheld-duck flew strongly over, wheeled and settled at a respectful distance, still as statues. T h e n , out of short cover at my feet, started an unexpected visitant: a Jack Snipe that zig-zagged hurriedly away. As I reluctantly withdrew from this paradise of ground-nesters in a secluded world of teeming life, I rejoiced to have followed that grassy track.