Masked Shrike – Innergellie House, Kilrenny, near Anstruther, Fife, 30th October 2004
So, a bit of context is necessary here.
As was the routine at the time, I originally wrote this account soon after seeing the bird on Saturday the 30th October 2004.
It was an excellent bird and an excellent twitch, and there was a lot to relate. And I had done so, in some detail. And then there was one of those inexplicable word-processing glitches, I somehow completely lost the file. Gone!! Completely vanished from the inner workings of my p.c..
AAAAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!! All that creative genius, gone!!! Forever...... . I was completely demoralised and became disenchanted with the idea of writing any up such accounts, let alone attempting to re-create what I could never re-create.
And anyway, as has been alluded to in other such accounts from this ‘era’, by now life had got very complicated, and I was struggling to balance everything – work, life 1, life 2, etc.. Something had to go, and certainly one of the things that went was writing up the new species accounts as soon as I could after seeing a new bird.
This remained the case for the next 30 or so ‘ticks’, for ten or eleven years, until my desire for real birding excitement was rekindled by the Isle of May, St. Agnes, Unst, etc., with Ken Shaw, et al..
For instance, when we found the White’s Thrush on Unst I ended up doing a ‘Finder’s in the Field’ account for the Rare Bird Alert website; in effect, this was the same idea, but made even more ‘live’. Even then there were still gaps; although in principle every new bird from Little Bustard at New Year in 1988 (266) to Ovenbird (445) existed in either a hand-written or word-processed form, there were some very significant gaps from Masked Shrike onwards, certainly until White’s Thrush (476) and even beyond in a very few instances.
So, one of the major projects I tasked myself with doing during the COVID-19 lockdown was word-processing (in a standard format) all existing accounts, and filling all the gaps (i.e., writing at least something!) for those species for which there wasn’t any proper write-up. Of the 260 accounts this involved, this, symbolically, was the very last one I tackled..... .
By then I had obviously written all sorts of vacuous nonsense, so I now felt better that I was writing yet more, instead of the highly detailed factual account that once existed (very briefly....).
So here goes. Before the news was released on Saturday the 30th October, Mark Oksien, Alan Lauder and Ken Shaw, plus the original finder Tom Glass (who had first seen it on the 29th, but, unfortunately, he was the only one to see it that day) and various other Fife birders at the scene (and expert birders in Shetland and elsewhere) had agonised long and hard about the identity of the bird. Sure, it wasn’t right for a juvenile or first-winter Woodchat Shrike, but was it right (enough) for a juvenile or first-winter Masked Shrike? That was a big call on a Saturday in October when a potential first for Britain had been found in the East Neuk of Fife (I remember Stuart Green raging, “What the fuck were they playing at – it’s an obvious Masked Shrike?!?!?!?”, down the ‘phone at me at some stage.......!).
Anyway, catching and ringing it was authorised and organised, and once it had been processed the weight of argument was convincing.
It was therefore put out as a presumed Masked Shrike early on the afternoon of Saturday the 30th October.
I had Ellen and Tessa that weekend (I’d only recently returned from a fantastic October half-term raid to the Scillies with Elizabeth, where we had seen Cream-coloured Courser and I had seen Ovenbird). Fortunately, the tap, modern and ballet dance lessons (or were they still so young it was gymnastics?) hell I had to endure on such Saturday mornings had come to an end. I’ve no idea whether we rushed home so I could collect my optics, etc., or whether I’d done so whilst they were doing their lessons, or whether maybe they were already in the car for some reason.
I also have no recollection whether we had to get extra clothing and footwear for them, given they were going bird-watching; I somehow doubt it – I would have adjudged what they already had on would ‘do’.
I’ve no doubt though that I made sure they were catered for before we left, or maybe the news didn’t break until we’d come home and had lunch.
Anyway, once it did, I am very sure they were both bundled into the car for an exciting journey to Kilrenny in Fife. This was an hour long, usually.... . No, I had my very young daughters in the back; I sure I was the exemplary driver.
I, like a very high proportion of the birders throughout mainland Britain, was making my way to Kilrenny (or at least planning to) asap. Being only an hour away, and being able to depart (presumably?) very soon after the news first broke meant that only birders based within an hour or so were ahead of me. As a result, when I arrived in Kilrenny (how had I navigated there beyond knowing it was beyond Anstruther?) it was relatively easy to park, despite Kilrenny being a very small place. There were a good number of birders there, but it was all perfectly manageable. Better, the bird was showing and had been doing so for a good while, meaning that, although more birders were arriving all the time, many of those who were already there were leaving, or at least moving away, chatting and celebrating. I knew many of them, at least by sight; after all, they too were birders based in south-east Scotland and immediately beyond. Better still, immediately adjacent to where the bird was showing was a children’s play-park. How good was that? Ellen and Tessa were promptly pointed in the direction of the play-park, and I was obviously promptly pointed in the direction of the bird.
It truly was the dream scenario for a birder twitching a first for Britain with one daughter who had just turned six, and another who was just four and a half. I subsequently asked Stuart Rivers whether it was Scottish Ornithologist’s Club policy to provide play-parks at all twitches. A jokette that completely bombed, given the audience….. .
I cannot remember too much more about actually seeing the bird other than ‘scoping it at a reasonable but acceptable range across the park as it rested and watched for, and occasionally actively chased and captured, prey from the lower branches of large sycamores, etc..
Seemingly I returned for more on the 14th November (when I saw two parakeets at Denburn Wood.....).
It was a small shrike, with a long narrow tail. It had plumage which was broadly similar to that of a juvenile Woodchat Shrike with a barred crown and back, blackish mask, broken white shoulder patch, white patch at the base of the primaries, black primaries, primary-coverts and alula, and slim black tail with white edges. It had whitish under-parts. It looked cold grey with no warmer tones.
Hurrah!
And anyway, as has been alluded to in other such accounts from this ‘era’, by now life had got very complicated, and I was struggling to balance everything – work, life 1, life 2, etc.. Something had to go, and certainly one of the things that went was writing up the new species accounts as soon as I could after seeing a new bird.
This remained the case for the next 30 or so ‘ticks’, for ten or eleven years, until my desire for real birding excitement was rekindled by the Isle of May, St. Agnes, Unst, etc., with Ken Shaw, et al..
For instance, when we found the White’s Thrush on Unst I ended up doing a ‘Finder’s in the Field’ account for the Rare Bird Alert website; in effect, this was the same idea, but made even more ‘live’. Even then there were still gaps; although in principle every new bird from Little Bustard at New Year in 1988 (266) to Ovenbird (445) existed in either a hand-written or word-processed form, there were some very significant gaps from Masked Shrike onwards, certainly until White’s Thrush (476) and even beyond in a very few instances.
So, one of the major projects I tasked myself with doing during the COVID-19 lockdown was word-processing (in a standard format) all existing accounts, and filling all the gaps (i.e., writing at least something!) for those species for which there wasn’t any proper write-up. Of the 260 accounts this involved, this, symbolically, was the very last one I tackled..... .
By then I had obviously written all sorts of vacuous nonsense, so I now felt better that I was writing yet more, instead of the highly detailed factual account that once existed (very briefly....).
So here goes. Before the news was released on Saturday the 30th October, Mark Oksien, Alan Lauder and Ken Shaw, plus the original finder Tom Glass (who had first seen it on the 29th, but, unfortunately, he was the only one to see it that day) and various other Fife birders at the scene (and expert birders in Shetland and elsewhere) had agonised long and hard about the identity of the bird. Sure, it wasn’t right for a juvenile or first-winter Woodchat Shrike, but was it right (enough) for a juvenile or first-winter Masked Shrike? That was a big call on a Saturday in October when a potential first for Britain had been found in the East Neuk of Fife (I remember Stuart Green raging, “What the fuck were they playing at – it’s an obvious Masked Shrike?!?!?!?”, down the ‘phone at me at some stage.......!).
Anyway, catching and ringing it was authorised and organised, and once it had been processed the weight of argument was convincing.
It was therefore put out as a presumed Masked Shrike early on the afternoon of Saturday the 30th October.
I had Ellen and Tessa that weekend (I’d only recently returned from a fantastic October half-term raid to the Scillies with Elizabeth, where we had seen Cream-coloured Courser and I had seen Ovenbird). Fortunately, the tap, modern and ballet dance lessons (or were they still so young it was gymnastics?) hell I had to endure on such Saturday mornings had come to an end. I’ve no idea whether we rushed home so I could collect my optics, etc., or whether I’d done so whilst they were doing their lessons, or whether maybe they were already in the car for some reason.
I also have no recollection whether we had to get extra clothing and footwear for them, given they were going bird-watching; I somehow doubt it – I would have adjudged what they already had on would ‘do’.
I’ve no doubt though that I made sure they were catered for before we left, or maybe the news didn’t break until we’d come home and had lunch.
Anyway, once it did, I am very sure they were both bundled into the car for an exciting journey to Kilrenny in Fife. This was an hour long, usually.... . No, I had my very young daughters in the back; I sure I was the exemplary driver.
I, like a very high proportion of the birders throughout mainland Britain, was making my way to Kilrenny (or at least planning to) asap. Being only an hour away, and being able to depart (presumably?) very soon after the news first broke meant that only birders based within an hour or so were ahead of me. As a result, when I arrived in Kilrenny (how had I navigated there beyond knowing it was beyond Anstruther?) it was relatively easy to park, despite Kilrenny being a very small place. There were a good number of birders there, but it was all perfectly manageable. Better, the bird was showing and had been doing so for a good while, meaning that, although more birders were arriving all the time, many of those who were already there were leaving, or at least moving away, chatting and celebrating. I knew many of them, at least by sight; after all, they too were birders based in south-east Scotland and immediately beyond. Better still, immediately adjacent to where the bird was showing was a children’s play-park. How good was that? Ellen and Tessa were promptly pointed in the direction of the play-park, and I was obviously promptly pointed in the direction of the bird.
It truly was the dream scenario for a birder twitching a first for Britain with one daughter who had just turned six, and another who was just four and a half. I subsequently asked Stuart Rivers whether it was Scottish Ornithologist’s Club policy to provide play-parks at all twitches. A jokette that completely bombed, given the audience….. .
I cannot remember too much more about actually seeing the bird other than ‘scoping it at a reasonable but acceptable range across the park as it rested and watched for, and occasionally actively chased and captured, prey from the lower branches of large sycamores, etc..
Seemingly I returned for more on the 14th November (when I saw two parakeets at Denburn Wood.....).
It was a small shrike, with a long narrow tail. It had plumage which was broadly similar to that of a juvenile Woodchat Shrike with a barred crown and back, blackish mask, broken white shoulder patch, white patch at the base of the primaries, black primaries, primary-coverts and alula, and slim black tail with white edges. It had whitish under-parts. It looked cold grey with no warmer tones.
Hurrah!
Masked
Shrike at Kilrenny, October 2004 (photograph credited to Tony Davison).
Brian, I remember seeing this bird, as the only other I had seen was an adult attached upside down to a lime-stick in Cyprus. Therefore, although I had seen one, it was about to be killed by illegal trapper and so was a thoroughly dreadful experience...
ReplyDeleteGrim story, confirming that the world's stuffed Peter. Greed will destroy. Sorry. Having a glass of red wine and listening to The Cranberries. Great bird though.
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