AS we watch the summer wane, autumn wax and the weather turn colder, wetter, and more unpredictable, in the world of birds it is also a time of change.
A huge range of species are on the move. Waders that have bred further north, even as far as the Arctic, are moving south to spend the winter on our coastal estuaries.
Thrushes such as the fieldfare and redwing from Scandinavia are currently contemplating their own movement to our relatively milder climes for a winter feasting on the berries which are beginning to festoon the trees and shrubs.
Other species are leaving the country to spend their winter in the warmth of Africa. These birds, predominantly small songbirds, migrate here in spring to breed and then migrate south as autumn progresses. Indeed, most are already well on their way.
One of these is the spotted flycatcher. It has the distinction of spending the least amount of time in the country compared with other migrants. It arrives early to mid-May, leaves its breeding grounds in August and by end of September has left our shores.
The spotted flycatcher doesn’t have the flashiest of plumage
Plumage wise, it’s not the flashiest of birds. In fact, you could say its rather dull looking. It is a brownish-grey on its head, wings, and tail with creamy white underparts. The eye is large and dark. It gets its ‘spotted’ name from the darker streaking on the head and paler streaking on the breast.
It is a flycatcher by name, flycatcher by nature.
It has the rather obvious habit of sitting out on a high prominent perch and sallying out to snatch an insect from the air before settling back on the same perch.
The flycatcher has the rather obvious habit of sitting out on a high prominent perch and sallying out to snatch an insect from the air before settling back on the same perch
It is a most delightful thing to just sit and watch. When perching it has a conspicuous upright posture and even though I said it isn’t the flashiest of birds, I find the whiteish breast is somewhat obvious at distance and it is this, and the posture, that I usually notice first.
Unlike most songbirds it is rather quiet. Its song is rarely heard, being a quiet and squeaky. It is the call that is most liable to be heard, a high pitched ‘Tsssseeeepppp’, described as sounding like a creaky barrow wheel.
Like so many of our songbirds, it has suffered a serious decline in the last 50 years. The BTO reports an 89 per cent drop between 1967 and 2010.
The RSPB considers there are now just 36,000 territories across the UK. The cause may be linked to conditions in its tropical African wintering grounds. A decline in flying insects could also be a factor.
It breeds in woodland, parks and gardens and I am always pleased to see them when I am walking through Worcestershire’s woods.
On my own patch, where they don’t actually breed, I look forward to seeing them pass through in spring and autumn, but this year I missed their post-breeding passage because of work and other commitments.
Although a chance to see them again this year has passed, I’ll be looking forward to their return in spring.
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