Blogs

In this week's Farmer's Weekly there is a report that a Professor Crute says that farmers must stop squabbling over whether organic farming or conventional agriculture (why do we call it conventional?)  is most environmentally friendly.  Professor Crute says 'The notion that this is a case of organic farming good, conventional farming bad, doesn't really get us anywhere.'.

I'm not so sure - I'd like to know the answer!

I'd totally agree that all types of farming can make further contributions to wildlife conservation, reducing greenhouse gas emissions and improving water quality - but if organic farming really is as good as its keenest proponents claim then shouldn't we be investing more in it?  The evidence is clear that organic farming is generally (that means - on average) better for farmland birds than 'conventional' farming but is it also far kinder to the planet's climate because it produces fewer greenhouse gas emissions and stores more carbon in soils?  I can imagine that it might be, but am not sure that it definitely is.  Let's find out.

Yesterday evening I was a guest of the BBC at the Proms.

The first bit of music was not my cup of tea but was mercifully short.  The second was a Chopin piano concerto played by Lang Lang (so good they named him twice?).  One of the effects of watching music, particularly with a soloist, is that I tend to start concentrating on the player rather than the music.  Lang Lang’s shiny shoes flashed in the lights, he had some distracting mannerisms but the striking thing was that his hands appeared to drift across the keyboard whilst the notes tumbled and cascaded in abundance and profusion.  It was amazing to watch – rather like watching Usain Bolt apparently strolling effortlessly  to a new world record.  I wish there were something that difficult that I could do that well.

All very well, you may be thinking (or not!), but what does this have to do with nature? In the programme notes Lang Lang is quoted as saying that when he plays Chopin, he sees beautiful images and feels close to nature – there you go!

The last piece was Strauss’s Alpine Symphony, which describes a day’s walking in the Alps including flower-rich meadows and birdsong.  This is music to bathe in – the 100+ piece orchestra sends out waves of melody. Strauss was quite clear where he stood when he talked of ‘the worship of nature, eternal and magnificent.’

Nature is inspiring - it inspires great scientists and great artists - and the rest of us too!

 I've been reading a book for quite a while - some bits of it I've read about six times!  Is this because the jokes are so good? or because I can't understand it? you might ask.

The answer is closer to the latter suggestion because there really aren't many jokes.  But the book is an absolute model of clarity - a real tour de force.  I keep re-reading bits because I am very keen to understand what it is telling me.

The book is Sustainable energy - without the hot air by David Mackay, an academic from Cambridge University.  It's not about climate change, though it is very relevant, but it is about renewable energy and whether it is feasible for us to produce enough energy from a combination of wasting less energy and producing more from nuclear, wind, solar, tidal etc. 

Every policy maker should read it - it should be compulsory for civil servants and ministers in the Department of Energy and Climate Change.  There are many interesting messages in the book - and although there aren't many jokes it is written in a very readable way (and it is all online) - and I'm sure I'll come back to some of them over the next few weeks.

But let's just start with a graph - I like graphs.  This graph shows how long a bit of carbon dioxide, a greenhouse gas, emitted now, will stay in the atmosphere.  Before you look at the graph - what's your guess for how much of a dollop of carbon dioxide will still be floating around in the atmosphere in 100 and 1000 years time?  Now have a look - how close were you?

Quite a lot isn't it? 

We all, I think, want to leave the world in a better state for our children and future generations.  Those dollops of carbon dioxide are quite a legacy - and quite a long-lasting legacy.

Which farmer should win?  You choose!

Defra produces a very interesting little booklet entitled 'UK Biodiversity Indicators in Your Pocket' and the 2009 version is out. 

It's certainly not all bad news - do have a look yourself to see - but it doesn't paint a great picture either.

One of the indicators refers to farmland birds and, as we know, there has been a big decline in the overall index since 1970.  This has been driven by tumbling numbers of species such as turtle dove, corn bunting, grey partridge, yellow wagtail and skylark.  The index is meant to be a measure of the overall ecological health of the farmland environment - if birds are declining what does that mean for wildlife as a whole?  The farmland bird index was launched back in 1999 (but the data go back much further) as a 'Quality of Life' indicator and we haven't made progress since then in terms of more farmland birds in the countryside.  If I could go back to the countruyside of the 1970s I would hear many more skylarks and see many more turtle doves than I do these days.  It is a quality of life issue - nature is steadily being lost from our lives.

As I say - it's not all bad - some bird species are doing well and that is to be celebrated.  But the fact that so many once-common birds are now quite difficult to see in many parts of the country (and that certainly includes turtle dove and corn bunting in my part of Northamptonshire, but yellow wagtail, tree sparrow and grey partridge elsewhere) does reduce the quality of my life.

It's not all bad - but it's not all birds either!  Indicator 13 (unlucky for some!) is a measure of ecosystem integrity in the North Sea - what proportion of fish are big (over 40cm)?  The index has plummetted over the last 25 years - presumably largely because of over-fishing.  We are seriously overexploiting the marine environment to the extent that you have to worry about whether it will be able to recover even if we see sense and dramatically ease off on fishing pressure. 

And then there are non-native species such as grey squirrel, American signal crayfish and mitten crabs.  There is an index which covers such species and in freshwater, marine and terretrial habitats (so, everywhere!) the index is on the rise - meaning that there are more non-native species covering a wider geographic area than before.  Many of these non-native species are benign, to people and other wildlife, but a significant number cause real economic and conservation problems.  It's not their fault - we brought them here!

All of the indicators I have mentioned (and there are others) are heading in the wrong direction.  They paint a picture of our countryside and seas becoming more homogeneous and less diverse.  Habitat specialists decline and the generalists do well, as do a range of non-native, accidentally introduced species. 

It doesn't have to be like this.  And the RSPB in our conservation work from nature reserves to marine policy and from working with farmers to fighting damaging developments is trying, and often succeeding, to get a better deal for birds and the rest of the natural world. 

The harvest was completed at Hope Farm a week ago.  It's a tricky business getting the timing right.  We waited for a dry spell so that we could harvest dry grain and not have to spend money on drying it post-harvest.  As you can imagine this is a gamble in a British summer but we got it right and saved ourselves about £8000 in costs as a result.

The wheat yields look pretty good and the bird numbers this summer are impressive - I'll give you details when the figures are finalised.

I've been at the Bird Fair for most of the last three days - have you ever visited this event?  If not - give it a try one year.

On Friday morning Martin Fowlie, from Birdlife International, was on the Radio 4 Today programme and did something I've never succeeded in doing - he made John Humphrys gasp, when he said that 20,000 birdwatchers would attend this event over the weekend.  If anything - it seems record attendances may have been set - so the numbers may have been higher!

So who on Earth are these people? A bunch of weirdoes? 

Well, to be honest, some of them (us!) are a bit odd but that's true of any bunch of enthusiasts, I guess.  There's the old guy in the kilt, the guy with the large earring who told me all the things that are wrong with the RSPB, the wannabe celebrity, the geeky expert and a range of other characters.  But most of the people attending are keen nature lovers who are attending talks and lectures, buying books and magazines, trying out telescopes and binoculars, buying bird food for their gardens, wishing they could afford to go on some of the most amazing wildlife holidays or buy the most beautiful artwork, and meeting up with fellow enthusiasts.  Not so odd really - although, noticeably, lots of blokes with understanding partners rather than a balanced mix of both genders!

If, like me, you have been interested in birds practically all your life, and work for the RSPB, then it's quite difficult to move without meeting someone who wants to say hello, have a chat or fix to do some business at a later date.  I spent the three days chatting (yes it's not that tough!) to an old school friend, ex-RSPB staff, a couple of Fellows of the Royal Society, a Baroness, at least one millionaire, colleagues from a whole range of other conservation organisations, RSPB members (almost everybody in this audience is!), my favourite bird artists, several Defra staff, at least two Sirs, my boss, someone I haven't seen for 20+ years, a range of local Northants birdwatchers, several readers of this blog (nice to meet you!), the person who first interviewed me on the radio (Radio Bristol - about 1970?), a very kind man from Butterfly Conservation who identified a butterfly for me that I'd seen in Spain last week, and a whole range of kindred spirits whom I wish I saw more often.  It was a very birdy three days!  And I have to say - I loved it!

 My conversations ranged from the delightful to the difficult and covered areas as disparate as climate change and 'that bird we saw in 1977 and were never really sure about'.  But just about everyone I met cared deeply about the natural world and its future.  They loved nature and wanted to enjoy the natural beauty of this planet - and were worried about its future.  They weren't twitchers, experts or obsessives (or at least only a few were!), but they were people who were probably slightly better tuned into the future of this planet than most of its inhabitants.  Roll on next year!

Do you have one of the new biometric passports?  Have you had a close look inside?

I sometimes smile (and sometimes tell myself 'I wish!') when I am told that the RSPB is running the world!  And I am sometimes told that we are obsessed by raptors.  I think, on a casual glance, there is evidence for both these arguments if you do look through the pages of a new British passport.  There are birds all over it! 

Inside the front cover, under those fantastic words 'Her Britannic Majesty's Secretary of State Requests and requires in the Name of Her Majesty all those to whom it may concern to allow the bearer to pass freely without let or hindrance, and to afford the bearer such assistance and protection as may be necessary' there is a male marsh harrier.

Through the pages for visa stamps there are red kites, avocets (yes, our logo!), kestrels and curlews.  And at the back there is a partly obscured red grouse pecking at my ear on the photograph page and a crossbill (is it a Scottish crossbill?) on the penultimate page.  And, moreover, I've found a couple of gannet beaks in there too!

As far as I know, the RSPB had nothing to do with this avian feast.  Having three raptors out of seven birds illustrated does seem a bit over the top to me.  But I am struck by the fact that if raptors had passports then they could wave the 'without let or hindrance' phrase at anyone with ill intent!

Does anyone out there know who were the artist(s) who drew these birds or how were they chosen? 

And which would be your choice of seven birds to share your passport for the next 10 years and why?  I'll think about it too.

The Picos de Europa are a fantastic range of mountains in northern Spain.  The scenery is great and the wildlife very good too.  But of course I am glad to be back at work!

Travel does broaden the mind for the naturalist, I think.  Going somewhere different exposes you to different habitats and species and you get a different insight into the wildlife that is common back at home. 

I can't help but be impressed by how common house sparrows are in Spain - and indeed how common they are in Paris railway stations - and remember that they used to be so much commoner in the UK.  Why is it that in the Gare D'Austerlitz there are lots of sparrows hopping around picking up the crumbs of your croissants and they are so unusual in central London?  We are working on this problem and hope to have answers sometime fairly soon.

Amazing meadows with huge numbers of butterflies.  It was great fun picking out a whole range of species that are familiar at home and then sorting out some of the 'new' species as well. 

The red-backed shrikes in the Picos were great - lots of families of fledged young birds learning to catch the large insects such as grasshoppers on which they depend.  It's a lot easier to see why these birds have disappeared from the English countryside over the past 50 years - those large insects can't cope with farming that pushes wildlife to the margins.  But I do wonder why some pairs didn't hold on in the less industrially farmed corners of England.

Red squirrels in the woods - lovely to see. 

And sitting outside in the afternoons one only had to look up to see birds of prey - from our house we saw buzzards, sparrowhawks, goshawk, booted eagle, short-toed eagle and a few griffon vultures.  And yet the fields and woods were rich in small birds too. 

And the Lings?  The starlings in Spain are a different species from the one in our gardens at home - the spotless starling.  In the distance they look exactly the same, but up close the spotless starling lacks the speckles of our bird.  They lack the stars, so they are Lings.

I've just come back from abroad via an overnight train journey to Paris and then the Eurostar home.  I saw one new bird for me - snow finch - so that shows that I was up a mountain some of the time.  The same mountains produced chamois, Alpine and red-billed choughs, alpine accentor, water pipit, rock thrush and wallcreeper.  At lower altitudes there were lots of families of red-backed shrikes and some red squirrels.  The butterflies were great too!  Where was I?

I love this poem.  I suppose the beauty of the song thrush's song in a gloomy landscape epitomises for me the joy that wildlife, unbidden, brings to us.  And the song thrush is one of our most accomplished songsters.

The thrush is an aged thrush!  Most thrushes live about three years if they survive to leave the nest and an exceptionally aged thrush might get to nine or 10!

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate,
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to me
The Century's corpse outleant,
Its crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind its death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervorless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead,
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited.
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt and small,
With blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew,
And I was unaware.

I remember being on The Oa on Islay with a group of colleagues and we saw a golden eagle, first perched on a sea cliff and then stooping down below us against the sea.  Tennyson could have been standing next to us at that moment.

The Eagle

He clasps the crag with crookèd hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

 And if you are outraged by the fact that golden eagles are still illegally killed in this country then please sign the RSPB's bird of prey pledge - thank you.

Adlestrop

Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

A lovely poem.  I am a member of Cheltenham racecourse and travel through the Cotswolds to the meetings on winter days.  As I pass Adlestrop I always think of this poem and it makes me happy.

To find out how to manage your garden for wildlife - blackbirds included - visit our Homes for Wildlife pages.

Mark Avery won't be blogging for a few days but has left you some of his favourite poems, with a bird theme, while he is away.

To a Sky-Lark

    Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
        Bird thou never wert—
    That from Heaven, or near it,
        Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

    Higher still and higher
        From the earth thou springest
    Like a cloud of fire;
        The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

    In the golden lightning
        Of the sunken Sun—
    O'er which clouds are brightning,
        Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

    The pale purple even
        Melts around thy flight;
    Like a star of Heaven,
        In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight,

    Keen as are the arrows
        Of that silver sphere,
    Whose intense lamp narrows
        In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.

    All the earth and air
        With thy voice is loud,
    As, when night is bare,
        From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflowed.

    What thou art we know not;
        What is most like thee?
    From rainbow clouds there flow not
        Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.

    Like a Poet hidden
        In the light of thought,
    Singing hymns unbidden,
        Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:

    Like a high-born maiden
        In a palace-tower,
    Soothing her love-laden
        Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:

    Like a glow-worm golden
        In a dell of dew,
    Scattering unbeholden
        Its aerial hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:

    Like a rose embowered
        In its own green leaves,
    By warm winds deflowered,
        Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves:

    Sound of vernal showers
        On the twinkling grass,
    Rain-awakened flowers,
        All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.

    Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
        What sweet thoughts are thine:
    I have never heard
        Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.

    Chorus Hymeneal,
        Or triumphal chant,
    Matched with thine would be all
        But an empty vaunt,
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.

    What objects are the fountains
        Of thy happy strain?
    What fields, or waves, or mountains?
        What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?

    With thy clear keen joyance
        Languor cannot be:
    Shadow of annoyance
        Never came near thee:
Thou lovest: but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.

    Waking or asleep,
        Thou of death must deem
    Things more true and deep
        Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?

    We look before and after,
        And pine for what is not:
    Our sincerest laughter
        With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

    Yet if we could scorn
        Hate, and pride, and fear;
    If we were things born
        Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.

    Better than all measures
        Of delightful sound,
    Better than all treasures
        That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!

    Teach me half the gladness
        That thy brain must know,
    Such harmonious madness
        From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.

And if you would like to vote for the country's most wildlife friendly farmer - perhaps the type of farmer who will help skylarks - then please do.

We've done the Game Fair and now the Bird Fair is only two weeks away.  What a contrast! 

The Bird Fair at Rutland Water on 21, 22 and 23 August is a place to meet birdwatchers and other wildlife conservationists, a place to do some birdwatching (there may be ospreys and passage waders about) and a place to spend money on your hobby if you want to!

If you have never been to a Bird Fair then do think about coming.  How can I describe it?  There are lots of big marquees filled with very friendly people who share your passion for nature.  You can buy a pint of beer and chat to your friends; you can spend thousands of pounds on telescopes, foreign holidays, bird food, books and membership of organisations; you can be amused by watching people compete in 'Call my Ruff' or 'Bird Brain of Britain' ;  or slip off and see some birds.

It's fun.  Everyone should come at least once to have a look and my guess is that if you do come you'll find that you want to come back.  Come and visit us on the RSPB stand - we'll be very happy to see you.

And the Bird Fair raises money for conservation projects across the world.