Spring is clearly upon us. The sun has been shining on and off, and on the good days I’ve seen quite a few bees and flies zipping about. I thought this Common green bottle fly was looking very striking.
Birdwatching is obviously where it’s at, but when I’m out birding I find it impossible not to notice the smaller airborne creatures. The Hairy-footed flower bee below is particularly good at hovering.
I was struggling to identify what species of bee this was (I’m fairly new to Apiology) but, after posting a couple of images on r/whatsthisbug, I was speedily enlightened. Someone also jumped in to let me know that the purple plant in the foreground is Lamiun purpureum, commonly known as Purple dead nettle. Go internet!
Anyway, back to nesting.
Firstly, an update on the Mistle thrush nest from my last post. As you no doubt remember, the Mistle thrush must have just started laying when I found it, as the nest had only one egg.
A Mistle thrush’s clutch can range from 3 to 6 eggs, 4 being commonest. So I returned to the nest five days later to see how many the bird had decided to go for. When I arrived at my new favourite-to-climb tree, I could see that one of the adults was incubating. I waited half an hour or so for the bird to fly off to feed, rather than disturb it’s strict incubating schedule, and began my intrepid ascent for a second time.
Looking good! Just 3 eggs, the minimum a Mistle thrush will go for, but they’re probably just being cautious as it’s quite early in the season. They will have a second brood later in the year so it’ll be interesting to see if they go for a larger clutch when the conditions are better (if I can find the nest!).
As I was admiring the intricate details on the eggs I suddenly sensed some movement in the branches above me. I turned my head and was startled to see one of the parents no more than a foot away from me! I instinctively snapped a quick pic before promptly leaving the nest.
I left in a hurry not just to save the bird any unnecessary agitation but also for my own safety – as I recalled reading in A Field Guide to Monitoring Nests that “adults [with young] may even attack you at nest.”
After this, I found myself wondering what it might be like inspecting a nest 7 meters up a tree with one arm clinging to the trunk and the other shielding my beautiful face from a dive-bombing Mistle thrush. So I did what any sensible nester would do: posted a query to the NRS forum.
My post was met with a good number of informative and reassuring replies, one even from a co-author of the Field Guide to Monitoring Nests! They mostly said similar things like – “Sam, you’ll be fine. They are only small(ish) birds and rarely attack”, and “I monitor five or six Mistle thrush nests a year and have never had one make contact.”
Fine, I thought, just a bit of vocal scolding from the bird and maybe a bit of nearby swooping, but my face should remain intact and I should be able to keep my cool and not fall out of the tree.
But the next day I got a different response from another long-time nester who said – “I’ve had Mistle thrushes give me a serious whack on the head and it does hurt! After a few attacks it is beyond a joke and I would recommend a hard hat when visiting a nest with young.”
Oh God I thought, I get enough strange looks as it is – scrambling up trees and taking photos in a very busy London park – I’m not going to have to wear a funny looking hard hat as well am I?!
Luckily a second reply from the co-author of the field guide put my dilemma to rest. He clearly knew the nester who had warned of painful whacks, as he called him out for being a southern softy, and also made the more serious point that wearing a hard hat is not advised as it may cause harm to the attacking bird!
So it’s settled, I don’t have to wear a silly hat – moreover, I mustn’t for the bird’s sake – I’ll just keep my visits as brief as possible and brace for impact!
I have been away for the last week visiting my parents in the South-West. I did some good nesting with my father so there will be another post coming soon with some pics from Cornwall. For now I will leave you with the first chicks of the year for my dad and I, three little Blackbirds.
Cute right?! Its funny how something only a day old can look so wizened.