Crawter’s Brook

The other day, work took me beyond the M25 for the first time this year. Specifically, it took me to an industrial estate just south of Gatwick Airport, not the usual subject for a bird blog but it does provide proof of how nature can find a niche in the most unlikely of places - with a little help from people, of course.

In addition to being a name that is difficult to type when autocorrect is in play, Crawter’s Brook is a once-overlooked narrow patch of waste ground where the titular brook (a tributary of the River Mole, which flows into the Thames near Hampton Court) runs through Crawley’s Manor Royal Business District (which I suppose sounds better than ‘industrial estate’). Thanks to efforts from the local council and a firm of architects, it has in recent years been transformed into a small park, attractive in its own way with some cool sculptures, seating and viewing-platforms where one can come and relax during the working day and briefly be at one with nature while looking out over partially-flooded woodland. Admittedly the birdsong can’t quite drown out the noise of the traffic, but I found it rather relaxing.

Without binoculars (which I hadn’t thought to take with me as I did not think I’d get the chance for a spot of birding, how wrong I was), I saw plenty of Starlings, a male Blackbird, a couple of Robins and Woodpigeons, Magpies and Herring Gulls flying overhead and - best of all - a little Wren flitting in and out of a bush by the concrete river-bank. 

By the entrance I was impressed to see a Green Flag, the sign of a well-managed public park. Crawter’s Brook was awarded this for the first time last year. 

A trip down that way will probably feature in my near future. I’ll take the binoculars next time. 

Wild London

The other day, I finally got around to watching Wild London, the new David Attenborough documentary, on the BBC iPlayer. I’d been looking forward to it, and it did not disappoint. But then, David Attenborough has never done that.

Nor had he ever done a documentary about wildlife so close to home, and London has been that to Sir David for many years. The programme was, in true Attenborough style, eye-opening and entertaining in equal measure. Some of the subjects I knew a bit about (I’m well aware of urban foxes, Ring-necked Parakeets and the fact that Peregrine Falcons hunt for pigeons in Central London), others less so (a herd of deer in an East London suburb, and beavers — yes, beavers — somewhere in West London).

 

The man himself (now aged 99) continues to he surprised and at times overjoyed by the natural world, as witness his delight when handling a Peregrine chick in the Houses of Parliament and his wonder at the foxes getting so close to him in a Tottenham allotment. Part of his appeal has been the way in which he passes his enthusiasm for the natural world to the viewer. Rather like him, I get a thrill when I see a fox emerging from the bushes in my garden.

A David Attenborough documentary about wildlife in London can only, I think, serve to get people more interested in the wildlife on their doorstep. And in these troubled times in which we live, a well-produced and expertly narrated television programme exploring and celebrating wildlife close to home can only be a good thing.

2025 highlights; it’s been quite the year!

In 2025 (birding-wise), I logged over a hundred species on my travels, which took me to Canada and Spain as well as various places around Britain (southern England, mostly). East Finchley and beyond, indeed.

But for me, 2025 was quite the year for much, much more than that. 

In early October, Allison and I welcomed our son Jack into the world. He was born by surrogate in Halifax, Nova Scotia. While we were in Halifax I went for a walk around the Public Gardens (they weren’t far from the hospital). Best sighting was a Blue Jay. 

For the first two weeks of Jack’s life, home for us was a lovely rental in Ketch Harbour, overlooking the bay. We had previously stated there in June when we went out to visit our lovely surrogate and her wonderful family, who we now regard as family!

I swam out to that little jetty most mornings; for much of the rest of the day, it was inhabited by Double-crested Cormorants. Sightings in the garden alone included Blue Jays, American Goldfinches, Northern Cardinals, a Cedar Waxwing (slightly different than the Waxwings we occasionally get in London) and — definitely a first for me — an Eastern Kingbird. Slightly further afield I notched up a Raven and a Bald Eagle at Sandy Cove.

Since we got back to London, I have been taking Jack for walks around our neighbourhood and while doing so I like to tell him of the birds we’re seeing. Pigeons, crows, parakeets — I’ll point them all out. The highlight was without doubt a Sparrowhawk a couple of blocks from home which flew into a bush just as we were walking past, in unsuccessful pursuit of what was probably a Starling. Straight in, some rustling about and then straight out and away. Definitely one where we were lucky to be in the right place at the right time; this is only the third time in my life that I’ve seen that happen. 

OK, so he won’t remember that, but I will — and I can tell him about it in years to come. He’s at the start of the great adventure that is life, after all. 

In England, birding highlights have included a Barn Owl (ghostly white, seen flying through the trees while I was sitting around the camp fire at Gilwell Park), a good visit to Minsmere in July, a lovely early-morning walk on my only overnight visit to Bath and a similar early-morning walk at Newhaven in Edinburgh. 

A good year, and I begin 2026 in a spirit of happiness and optimism, and not just because of the birds.