Black Stork in Wakayama

I wonder how much money I could have saved by not having gone for a rare which later turned up in Kansai. Better not think about it I suppose. Right now there's a Song Thrush in Osaka which would have saved a drive to Kanagawa and a Black Stork in Wakayama which would have saved a drive to Kyushu. 

Let's contrast a 200km round trip with no toll roads Black Stork, with a 1,200km round trip on mostly toll roads Black Stork. And that there were two Storks at Isahaya does not make that trip doubly worthwhile. No contest really; oh for a crystal ball! Last December it was a trip to Choshi for Yellow-bellied Tit, another 1,200km round trip, and immediately after that a bird turns up in Osaka. But you've got to go, haven't you? Now, I'm considering what the odds of a Bald Eagle turning up in Kyoto might be...? Exactly. Another trip to Hokkaido looms large in my near future, me thinks. Well, assuming the bird comes back this winter. 

Anyway, I heard about this Stork about three weeks after it had arrived and drove down at the first opportunity. The aim was to get on site (just south of Wakayama city) for dawn, on what turned out to be the then coldest night of the winter so far; roadside gauges consistently registered zero degrees.

After getting advice on where best to park from people already there, I walked back to the almost dry reservoir. Heading upstream from the dam end into the strong, low sun, made it difficult to see whether the Stork was present or not. It hadn't seemed to be when I'd driven a couple of circuits earlier. I had no idea where it roosted, what time it came in, or even whether it did come every day. The Kyushu Storks could be very difficult to connect with so I didn't think of this bird as nailed-on. On the other hand, perhaps it roosted on the reservoir and never left?

I needn't have worried, two thirds of the way along I saw the bird drop in up ahead, it was still necessary to get right up to the far end to have the light at a better angle to see the bird well. I don't know whether the it had flown in from the surrounding hills or up from the deep stream bed running through the centre of the reservoir. It soon disappeared (back?) into that stream an hour until flushed by a photographer who'd gone through some properties on the far side of the reservoir, hoping to be able to see into the stream gully I presume. Not the result he'd been hoping for I imagine, but everyone else got a great view as it flew towards us and landed on the still frozen ground 100m away.

The earliest view after it dropped in. It stood preening for a moment on the heavy frost of the dry reservoir bed before making for the stream in the background, where it caught a couple of small fish on the 'S-bend'. It then disappeared behind the increasingly deep stream banks to the right.

The following images show it after it was flushed out of the stream, affording some great views, until it flew back into the stream again.

By the time it came into the open a third time we'd all been there about four mostly cold hours, while the bird had been on view for perhaps 15 of those minutes. The lower reaches of the reservoir had been in sun all morning and were frost-free by this time so as the bird quickly made its way downstream to the standing water the backdrop seemed to change form winter to summer.

A great bird, and if not as close as the Kyushu birds perched on utility poles, it put on a much better overall performance thanks to several short distance, back and forth flights.

        

Swinhoe's, Pintail and Latham's Snipe this autumn

Of the three snipe species in the title, Latham's and Swinhoe's are clearly the commoner migrants passing through the Kansai region. However, much further south, on a recent trip to Ishigaki, six of the seven identified snipe were Pintail, suggesting they're mainly entering (and exiting) Japan to the south of Honshu. I feel fortunate to have had so many good views of all three species within a short period of time, it's been an important refresher on migrant snipe identification; there can never be too much time spent watching snipe. 

I already posted shots of a Latham's seen well a couple of weeks ago, the only one of the trio passing through the region that breeds in Japan. A couple of weeks later I managed some great shots of a Swinhoe's, also in Mie Prefecture, in another of the few fields that offer both good habitat for snipe and viewing conditions.

The Swinhoe's scurried away along a muddy furrow, below the grassy bund, before I'd even pulled up to scan the field, but after 40 metres it crouched, mostly hidden, under the overhanging grass. From the views I'd had of it disappearing along the field edge it was clearly a swintail, and it had a distinct Swinhoe's feel. Knowing it was bound to re-emerge to feed before too long, I settled down to wait. Not only did it soon re-emerge but, to my surprise, made a beline back towards its original position, right where I was waiting. Ultimately it disappeared beneath the grassy field edge three metres to my right. I walked over the spot, I'd have been less than a metre from the bird, along the entire edge of the field and back, but it didn't show itself again.

After coming out hiding, it made straight towards me, I couldn't believe my luck. But views became much, much better.

It never ceases to amaze me how much the head shape can change from one second to the next. 

It doesn't get much better than this; zero doubt about the identity now. Not the upward, warning tail flash (which it had done earlier in response to a low-flying crow), but this spread seemed to signal caution because of my close proximity, without being an overt threat. Not something I've seen before.

The freshly moulted brownish-buff coverts seem to blend seamlessly with the similarly hued scapular fringes and the ground colour of the flanks, creating a very uniform impression. As the feathers age they become much whiter but the lack of contrast remains. 

Next, a couple of juvenile Pintail (pins seen) on Ishigaki.

A classic-looking juvenile Pintail; this is the kind of bird responsible for the notion all Pintails look short-billed, short-tailed, are dumpy, round-headed and have skinny legs. Like the bird below, the lateral crown stripes are densely flecked rusty, note the narrow, white (juvenile) scapular fringes and the very narrow parallel black 'inner fringe' between the largely rusty feather centre and the even white fringe. 

The next bird is an adult Pintail which, though not seen as well, is of interest, showing the extent of post-breeding moult before migration.

This bird spent a lot of time sunbathing, in fact I never saw it feed all afternoon, the upshot being the pins were frequently on view.

It's another classically short-billed bird, and note how the adult also shows extensive and obvious rusty flecks in the lateral crown stripes. I've yet to see a Swinhoe's that can match this appearance. 

Still happily sunbathing and giving the opportunity to see the extent of primary moult. There are five replaced inner primaries and three retained outers, there's a corresponding degree of moult in the primary coverts. The secondaries are unmoulted. I suppose there must be a benefit in this moult strategy, though I'd have thought a long distance migration with full flight feathers would be more energy efficient.

The following bird (in the same field as the above adult Pintail) is a Swinhoe's in my opinion, but I wasn't able to get confirmatory views of the outer tail feathers. This would be the only Swinhoe's I saw on Ishigaki, all others seen well enough to identify were Pintail.

Compared to the first Swinhoe's, this is a more faded bird, the flanks through coverts to scapular fringes are equally lacking in contrast, just paler overall. 

Almost caught the outer tail feathers here; almost but not quite. Don't be fooled by the misplaced uppertail covert masquerading as an outmost Latham's-type tail feather. What I can see of this seems to be three narrower outermost feathers, a prominent white corner (and tips to central feathers), but also a relatively broad area of white extending towards the base. There seems altogether far too much white in the outertail for a Pintail. I could be wrong, but also I could be wrong about this and it still be a Swinhoe's. 

 

I followed the snipe into the next field, where it, fortunately, hadn't ventured too far into the more luxuriant veg. This and the following shot are another good example of how the apparent head shape can change in the blink of an eye, and how unreliable judging structure from photographs can be. Notice how few rusty flecks there are in the lateral crown stripes, another pointer towards Swinhoe's.

Thick, yellow legs are another point in favour of Swinhoe's.

The aggregation of singly inconclusive features in favour of a Swinhoe's identification is making a strong case when, by way of contrast nothing is leaning towards Pintail. 

A few herons on Ishigaki

 A trip to Ishigaki last week with the foolish, misguided, never to be repeated (until next time) aim of seeing a Javan Pond Heron, not surprisingly focused more on wet fields than other habitats. Consequently, herons and passage waders featured strongly. 

The commonest herons/bitterns of interest to a Kansai resident would be Purple Heron, Cinnamon Bittern and Malayan Night Heron. The latter, more of a nocturnal woodland bird, was easily seen each day after packing up trawling the paddies in search of the already departed Javan Pond Heron.

Cinnamon Bitterns were frequently seen flying over fields...

...in fields...

...or flying out of fields into trees. Well, they were just pretty common.

 

I saw two Grey Herons over four days, they were replaced by Purple in the usual habitats.

Immature Purple.

  

The same immature.

Another adult Purple Heron with an eye out for a meal; and finding one.

Malayan Night Herons were easily found at dawn and dusk, there were usually two together at this spot. 

This adult favoured an open lawn so the light was better for photography.

Latham's Snipe

 It seems the sun is daring to put in an appearance this morning, after almost three days of more or less continuous and frequently torrential rain. In this shot of a migrant Latham's Snipe the upbound drops of water indicate how heavy the sudden onset was. 

Finding suitable fields migrant waders might stop off in is always the challenge, particularly this early during the southbound migration when everywhere seems a sea of full-grown rice. Compared to the Kyoto area, Matsusaka is slightly better off in somuch as the planting/harvest is, rather surprisingly. about three weeks ahead, hence there's more chance of there being attractive fields for the juvenile waders coming through later in the season.  

I was really pleased with this encounter because it resulted in two snipe firsts! The first of which involved a confrontation with a Pacific Golden Plover and this brief selection of images outlines how things went.

The Goldie had been gradually making its way in the direction of the field's edge and the Latham's stretched itself up as it approached. The Goldie did too, momentarily, but soon drew back its neck and walked around the situation, under the glare of the Latham's eye.

This was my first first. The tail flick is very frequent in response to any potential threat in the vicinity but this was the first time I've noticed the tail being twisted round; it's the underside we can see on this view. There must be a reason for this I imagine. The tail looks as though it's directed towards the Goldie but might the upperside be signaling to unseen snipe in the opposite direction?  

Having seen off the interloper, I was surprised the Latham's immediately flew 10m further into the open field, rather than enjoy the patch of mud it had seemingly defended. None of my flight shots came to anything due to the poor light, cranking the ISO had little effect as, though the bird came ever closer, the light steadily dimmed and the sky tap turned to near full.

As for that second first I mentioned earlier, this is it, or this is when it occurred to be more precise. As It stood on this low mound it repeatedly called, I've never seen a migrant snipe calling on the ground. The call was a repeated kech kech kech the 'ch' as in the German 'Ich' or 'Heinrich'. It wasn't very loud, though loud enough to hear over the drumming rain, and similar to the distinctive kek kek kek flight call Latham's sometimes gives when flushed. Any flushed snipe giving that call will be a Latham's.

After three hours of relentless rain I decided to head back to Kyoto, thinking the traffic would be a nightmare in these conditions. As it turned out, the rain, at this stage, was restricted to the east side of the Kii Peninsula mountains so the drive wasn't nearly as slow as I'd expected.