Spring - A game of two halves - Part 1

Spring in Finland is a completely different ballgame to spring in Ireland.

Firstly, it is more severely craved, like a pregnant woman and pickles, Trump and his morning twitter time, or a garda and a school of nursing event in Copper Face Jacks, it cannot come soon enough.

Alas, the Finnish weather often has other ideas. Even as I write, it's the end of April, and it's once again, snowing...again. AGAIN!

It really is snowing...again

The first signs of spring are birds. Birds which birders in potatoland wouldn't necessarily associate with spring. For us here its the return of birds which, through necessity, have been absent all winter. Birds like Lapwing, Woodpigeon, Stock dove and Skylark all make their first appearances in March, providing welcome songs in what would have been a melody free wasteland all winter.

But for me, the real excitement comes in the form of geese. Suddenly, as the snow begins to melt away (theoretically mind you) and the stubble fields begin to fill up with flocks of grey geese, most of which are unusual in an Irish context.

My favorite of which are the two species of Bean Geese.

Bean Goose sticks out in my memory as one of the first rare birds I ever twitched in Ireland, with my newly bought Opticron "Classic" scope many more years ago than I care to remember.

Back then, trying to assign a couple of newly ticked geese to any, then "race", was a challenge. It still remains a challenge, but today I get to practice every spring on birds in the thousands.

The sheer variety within both species is incredible to behold, and throw in biting winds, distance, bad light and constantly shifting postures, it can be difficult to find one among the other.

Taiga Bean Goose

Taiga Bean Geese seem to be slightly less in number than Tundra Bean geese, at least in areas I work. The extent of orange in the bill is all but useless. Whilst your classic Tundra has a narrow band of orange that mimics Pink Footed Goose, many have much larger amounts of color, overlapping with Taiga.

Structure is the key you need to tune in on. The longer swan-like gizz of Taiga, the elegant neck on a large body, and the longer bill and head. 

Taiga Bean Goose

Sometimes the combination of long bill, large extent of orange bill coloration and long neck on a big, chunky body is at the extreme in all cases and ID is a cinch.

Tundra Bean Goose

By comparison, Tundra Bean Goose is a smaller bird, less bulky, shorter and thicker necked, with a square head and shorter equilateral shaped bill (in most cases). As with Taiga, the extent of orange color varies extensively (note the bird on the right in the 2nd image).

One thing that sticks out for me with Tundra, is the "Grimace" effect. 

That shorter bill, often seems to have a more obvious gape region, which can even appear somewhat toothed, and frequently down curved in a grimacing frown. combined with the square head and somewhat beady feeling eye, they very often come across as narky little swines, especially when compared with the gentle and more graceful Taiga.

Russian White-Fronted Goose

Russian White-fronted Goose is another bird we occasionally get in Ireland, but is quite common on passage here. By the hammer of Thor I cannot understand why this is not split from Greenland White-fronted already. A completely different beast entirely.

Bewick's and Whooper Swan

Swans too, make their appearance in March, and among the ubiquitous breeder that is Whooper swan, you can often find the rarer and declining Bewick's. There is a character to Bewick's swan which is simply delightful, and their call is a great thing to pick out from the whoops.

Common Crane

The first Common Cranes return in March too, and are a bird that never ceases to amaze me when you come across them (as you frequently do) just feeding in a roadside field alone or in massive staging flocks.

People often express wonder and awe at little warblers and swallows making their big migratory journeys, but to me it's the big birds that impress me more. Their migration takes planning, strategy. A warbler can just go hell for leather, as we know some of them do, point A to point B under their own steam.

But when you are this big, getting to where you want to go takes that something extra. Choosing your route, to avail of thermals, feeding and staging areas and making sea crossings. That amazes the hell out of me.

The color ringed bird was ringed in Finland, and spends their winter in the south of France. If Le Pen wins you can say goodbye to that ya migrant feck ye.

The end of March long weekend this year was memorable for herself (as she shall henceforth be known) finding Finland's 103rd Red Crested Pochard in one of our regular stops near the cabin.

Red Crested Pochard

This was also the first record of Red Crested Pochard for Lohja county. Finns, loving their various lists, including county lists, naturally came running and over the weekend it turned into a pretty major twitch, by Irish standards serious numbers.

By mid April the last of the "First Wave" migrants are in, with birds like Caspian Tern and Baltic Gull taking up their positions around the city.

Caspian Tern

Dozens of these monstrous, carrot billed Caspian Tern roost on my patch of Laajalahti daily. The first one of the year is always a thrill, and even 3 years on, it still blows my mind that I'm seeing these instead of Sandwich tern.

Baltic Gull 

Baltic Gull is a very common bird here, often wandering around gardens and parks like feral pigeons in a surreal setting of accompanying Fieldfares and Barnacle geese. Now...seriously lads...hands up who KNOWS, deep down in their heart of hearts, they've seen these things in Ireland?

Cos I have. Grow a pair. Diminutive little females like this one shouldn't cost you too much sleep.

Once birds like these are in situ, it's all about waiting for the second half, that big push of passerines and raptors etc that suddenly explode onto the scene in May.