Low Light & Flying Golden Plover

A scene I have been returning to for four or five years, since I first found golden plover up here, in fact these were the first new and most 'wild' species I found; better still on my local patch. It was an experience to cement my interest in studying birds. The Golden plover are part of a sense of place that has a strong hold on me, drawing me to this the last spit of land at the end of the upland plateau stretching uninterrupted, North to Snowdonia. The greatest excitement comes in unknowing before I ascend, whether the place will have any affect on me that day since it depends on specific conditions of light and weather to transform it from an average patch of rough grazing to the wild, elevated Welsh upland that can send senses and imagination hurtling far away from valley drudgery towards wilderness spaces.
The grass here comes in short swathes of gold and blond, mottled with darker mosses, a palette mimicked exactly in the plovers plumage. I can only find the plovers on the ground because I once saw them land where it has transpired they often roost, so I look for movement by scanning this small area with binoculars, even then I can miss them, only to carelessly flush them a few steps later. Amazingly I have regularly counted between 45 and 48 birds here throughout the last few years. Sometimes I find them sometimes I don't on days over winter but Autumn and Spring are best and I haven't yet established how present they are over Summer.
A still, sunny evening is best to find the plovers up here, when it is possible to hear their piping and watch the memorising movements of their flight; a synchronised twinkling of White bellies to dark backs as they pitch and yawl over the ridge. At this time, low light ignites the ridge casting dramatic shadows and turning the muted soft tones into a blaze of gold, often contrasted against a darker sky of blue and brown clouds from the North West.
These conditions are rare though, as the ridge is exposed and magnifies the lightest of prevailing weather, making such days precious especially when the Winter light is at its best and the plovers most noticeable. But I always have one eye on conditions looking to predict the next golden plover day.
The painting above was completed over three days:
5th: Conditions near perfect, with the wind in the North and light. I paint in the shadows, basic rock forms and sky. Pleased that I can see Cadair Idris on the horizon, dusted with snow and catching the light around its base, a useful focal point in the far distance. First I place a red kite that passes over the left hand ridge, but quickly scrub that as I hear the piping of Golden Plover, I sketch the shape of the flock in my pad when they come into the frame and drop down to cover. I place them to the right of the picture, balancing Cadair and the light in the clouds on the left, which is not far off where they roost anyway. A final blaze of light catches the ridge casting long shadows and I map it out with a wash of NY, dropping in UM, BS, RU etc
7th: A hard climb today with Northely wind pushing against my A1 portfolio, containing the unfinished paintings. I make a start but soon its gusting over 40 and their is no respite, every angle is exposed as if the wind is coming straight down. Storm clouds on the horizon, I beat a retreat and make it down just as the hail begins to pour, good fun. Getting home, can see some progress made in defining the tones in the foreground so pleasently surprised. No Goldies today.

8th: Calm today, but low cloud flattens light. One late gap in the cloud cover around 1700 is my last chance and gives me enough light to define some areas and bring the picture to a close. No Goldies but I find a mossy rise strewn with feathers, clearly the molt is on and perhaps next time I see them the males will be even more striking with the black face and chest colour of their breeding plumage.

Displaying Goldeneye

1100, Sun and cloud, North Westerly rippling lake surface in gusts. Two drake and two female visible, already displaying on arrival. Female at North of lake postures low to surface with neck stretched, nostrils just above water, spinning gently. Male neck extends and head throws, simultaneous growling call reverberates across the lake to reach me seconds later, but male at South end has already reacted, flying in to confront the rival threat. Females are seemingly forgotten, drifting away, still posturing as males circle and size each other up through mimicry; synchronised head throws, tail kicks and neck extensions. Then they dive, surfacing in a grappling clinch, they squabble on the surface until one is seen off. However both seem to be paired up, the victor with his duck staying North, the vanquished heading to Southern end to join another female. Why then the display and aggression? territory, insecurity...?
Afternoon. Three female (possibly one is a juvenile) and two drake present. goldeneyes have remained separate, drakes feeding at opposite ends of the lake, two females South and one North. Constantly diving to feed, with only seconds at surface, I can only grab brief sketches and observations, learning when a subject is about to depart by the way it flattens its feathers and sinks down, deflating before kinking neck laterally before flipping its back end and slipping under, leaving a gentle footprint frothing on the surface.
1700-1800.After being given the run around by flighty goldeneye, manage to hide myself at the South end of lake where shore is closer, without causing disturbance. Air is almost still and in the shelter the lake is a sheer smooth mirror reflecting the warm golden palette of reeds and upland mosses lining the far bank. The goldeneyes slice and puncture this illusion with gliding dives and cork like rises, vapour trails and residue momentarily etching the surface, a memo of the birds movements and behaviour. Deep blue lines reflecting the sky on a golden ground. All five birds together now, drakes displaying a full repertoire of head and tail throws, the females snaking low to the water, then swimming in tandem at speed with their mates/potential mates. I muster one last attempt at capturing the scene in these rare perfect conditions, leaving only once the light has completely gone. Reluctantly I make my way home because the clicks, growls and snorts of displaying drakes are still vividly heard behind the dark silhouettes obscuring the lake,

Glossy Ibis 8J9, Borth

Returned to Glossy Ibis. Cold Easterly still , occasional sleet shower. Bird worming near to pools catching its reflection. Conditions conspire for a good days painting of studies and this final piece in the gathering gloom of late afternoon and icy sea mist.

20.04.2012 : note Ibis 8J9 ringed in southern Spain has been recorded in Bedfordshire, Essex and other parts of Wales since leaving Borth late February. 

Glossy Ibis, Borth

A keen Easterly wind brings cold air on a clear day, the temperature stays sub-zero. A Glossy Ibis found in a waterlogged paddock, picking through dark clods of earth churned up, almost ploughed up by the horses hooves. It has stayed loyal to this spot all week, sharing it with jackdaws and gulls, though it gets the juiciest worms by wrestling its bill deep below the permafrost. It uses its bill with great agility, not least when overcoming the problem of getting a worm grasped with the tip all the way down into its mouth, by throwing and snapping at the prey mid air, or when it senses something in the ground, twisting and pushing to drive the bill onto the prey.

The colours on this bird are a challenge to paint, far from being black its wings are an iridescent oily rainbow of teal, crimson purples and blues, whilst the body is a dark rich burgundy brown that lightens towards the head which becomes streaked with pin lined feathers. Bill and legs are almost peach in some light and the skin around the eyes a contrasting cool blue. I try many colour combinations over the two days, always limited and settle on an unusual palette of UM (gs), IR, BU, (RU). The subtle changes of iridescence helped by the constantly moving, freezing and reticulating pigments of watercolour on the page. An addictive way of painting brought on by an unusual bird in unusual conditions over the last two days.

Bonxie Series

The Biscay Bonxie continues its wandering, top, past Cabo Mayo where I was sea watching in 2010 and below, sunset from the Pont Aven during 2010 Orca survey ...not sure where this will take me next, maybe a bigger scene, maybe Borth.

Red Kite, Cors Caron

Red kite settles in an oak tree above Maesllyn and surveys the teal on the frozen lake below. I scoured the four or so mile length of this raised peat bog and found very little besides the kites and buzzards. Later this evening at least five hen harries quartering the north end including a male. A full moon, blue sky, snow capped hills beyond the flat expanse of russet marsh - reminds me of Asgrimur Jonsson's Iceland. Temperature plummets, paints frozen by the time more harriers pass.

Snipe, Pwll Penarth

11 Snipe on Pwll Penarth today, pushed into the usual corner when the water is high, just in view with a scope. With great synchrosy they rest together for large periods of the day, but occassionaly stir. Preening on mass is a precurser to mobilisination and a frenzied group foray onto the muddy margines to feed. Probing in and out of the mud, bobbing with mechanical motion they whir around until suddenly they will freeze crouch , tuck their bills in and return to resting possition for perhaps hours. Luckily this group stayed just about in view for me to attempt the larger compositon I have been working up to for the last couple of weeks. I won't return now until the water level drops as this brings the Snipe closer into view and hopefully fresh drawing possibilities.