Padley Gorge

Padley Gorge has been on the list of long forgotten birdwatching destinations I never quite seem to make it to, like other birding sites of local reknown well within easy reach, Lound, Holme Pierrepont and Willington Gravel Pits, to name just three, much heard of but never given time to. So it makes me rather happy to type up a post about my visit to Padley Gorge.
In the far east of the Peak District this is more walking than birdwatching country, and few walks could offer more splendour for less strain than the one we chose from Grindleford. Less than four miles, it packs in oak woodland, the drama of the gorge and some fringes of moorland.

Now autumn really isn't the time to go birdwatching here, aim for the spring and dapper characters like Pied Flycatchers and Redstart are on the menu. Still, for now there are the warm colours and crisp aromas of the fall season to enliven the senses.
Stonechat up on the open stretch of the walk was about as exciting as the birdlife got, stout birds though, let's not devalue them please!

Late in the day, the drive home neatly led us via Leash Fen, an area of wet moorland interspersed with scatterings of birch hitherto unknown to many a Derbyshire birdwatcher until the delightful news of the convergence of up to 8 Short-eared Owls, attracted by an explosion in the vole population this year, or 'mole' population as another source might have it. I'm sure it's voles though. 4 birds are still there, regular as clockwork they quarter the area, just after four 0'clock when the weather suits. Nice birds, the peeved expression, generated by the patterns on their facial disk, gives them a real air of attitude, there is almost something of the Demon Headmaster in them when they look directly at you.

Who you looking at?

Chee Dale

Another weekend and another Derbyshire Dale. The girlfriend and I don't have so many more to go now. This time it was destination Chee Dale, weather fine and sunny, and me sort of ill*.


Truth be told, if you were to draw comparisons with more the renown dales like the Dove, Lathkill, Chee Dale struggles to compete for scenery and drama. The most exciting stretch is where the limestone gorge pushes walkers into the river (there are stepping stones, in case you're wondering). Still, it is of course pleasant and, psst, a little private, much quieter indeed than the aforementioned dales, being there is like being under a massive living green duvet. You may even have the dale to yourself during the week.

My bird list for the walk wasn't huge, it was however promising. This is a real Derbyshire Dale so yes, there is a resident pair of Dipper, but also Green Woodpecker, Chiffchaff, Buzzard and Grey Wagtail, show what promise lies within, and the day following a Barn Owl was reported in the area. You go there, you see something!

Speaking of something, here's a very unexpected something from our day at Chee Dale...



...there were bats!
(If you have any idea how difficult they are to photograph, you'll understand my glee in having anything to show you!)

Small size, rich brown fur, black face and ears, I'm saying they are Britain's most common species, Pipistrelle. Now I'm no expert but this isn't the first time I have seen bats out in daylight during the first half of spring. My own hypothesis is that they are coming out of hibernation near to starvation and desperate to feed. This early in the year it is still very cold at night with few flying insects yet emerged, so it makes sense for these bats to hunt during the day.
Equally, they might merely have been disturbed from their roost, though for me everything about their whirring behaviour suggested classic feeding technique around the woodland clearings. We saw just two individuals, one showing well enough we could follow its course right into the rockface, the minutest fissure, which rather makes sense as the cave systems around Derbyshire are particularly notable for their populations of hibernating bats.

At the head of Chee Dale is a Derbyshire Wildlife Trust reserve, 'internationally important' as the volunteer team working there told us. They also advised a return visit in late May when the wildflowers are apparently magnificent. I think we'll do just that!

* Preyed upon during the week by the norovirus/winter stomach bug, I was so happy to have the birdsong outside my bedroom window as I tossed and turned myself into a half comfortable knot. Even the Dunnock's slightly flat twittering was sweet enough to ease my suffering. So hail to the birds, they rock again!

Lathkill Dale

What unseasonal warmth! Did we sleep away the winter so quickly?

Well, I can tell you, it remains chilly of a morning down in the Derbyshire Dales. With my free weekends rapidly running out, the girlfriend and I chose a walk new to us, up and back down Lathkill Dale in the heart of the Peak. For a Sunday it was hardly busy, so the scarcity of birds was somewhere toward surprising. Two pairs of Dipper were skittish dazzlers, and the odd languid Buzzard sailed over late morning, beyond that Great Tits, Robins, Goldcrest and Song Thrush added birdsong to the atmospheric mists. Something about the acoustics up there, the slightest twitter is so rich!
Grey Wagtail were a notable absence, I suppose still huddling for warmth down on the broader reaches of the river where the sunshine can find them.


And now for something completely different... walking my niece to the park yesterday I observed behaviour from a pair of Carrion Crows quite new to me. One of the birds was eagerly pecking under the guttering of a house along the street, making me half-wonder whether it was searching for the eggs of early nesting sparrows. No, that wasn't it. Peck, peck, the crow grabbed and pulled out an enormous cob sandwich! Almost immediately thereafter in came the second bird, chasing away what was evidently an intruder raiding the food stash of the resident pair. It must have been watching them store the items there.
Of course I never have my camera when I really need it.

Back up Lathkill Dale, along the ridge above the valley, my first butterfly of the year, a stately Peacock for the Peaks.