Sam Fisher reflects on a year of birdlife in an unsung rural corner of North Tyneside
When offered the opportunity to conduct an ornithological survey of Murton Gap fields in North Tyneside I leapt at the chance. This slice of arable farmland in the heart of the borough is on my doorstep, and over the years has become a place that fascinates me. With its open aspect and little shelter from the prevailing wind it can sometimes seem an inhospitable place, with few useful features for wildlife. But this couldn’t be further from the truth; the mixture of habitats means that Murton fields remains one of the last bastions of farmland bird species in the centre of North Tyneside, even as suburbia encroaches from all directions. Perhaps because of this, the place holds a little wild magic.
Conducting a thorough and systematic bird survey throughout the course of a year presented the enticing prospect of uncovering more of the site’s secrets. With six survey visits spread across the whole of 2024 we were able to form a good picture of what birds were around when, and how the changing seasons – and landscape – impacts their distribution across the site. It’s important to remember that any ecological survey offers a point-in-time snapshot only; surveying can provide vital information but never the whole story. For me personally it was interesting to see which birds were present but also which were missing.
With its cold and exceptionally wet spring, 2024 was a difficult year for birds. Ground-nesting species struggled, with Meadow Pipit missing until well into early summer. Breeding success for these birds, as well as Skylark, was further hampered by the silage cut which came, as ever, at the height of the breeding season. Bucking the trend were Grey Partridge, which seemed to be more numerous than ever into autumn and early winter. Many coveys containing juvenile birds were seen during the survey period and large wintering groups, sometimes of more than twenty birds, were present well into winter. Also heartening to see was the return in number of Black-headed Gulls. These birds have been hammered by avian influenza and the post-breeding flocks one would often see had all but disappeared. Happily numbers this year indicate a significant reversal of fortunes.
The summer survey offered a tantalising glimpse of nature’s wonder in the form of Willow Warbler passage. On the day of the survey the hedgerows all over Murton Gap seemed to be alive with Willow Warblers, some in beautiful sub-song, as if they had been conjured from nowhere. In reality this spectacle demonstrates the permeable nature of the fields, allowing birds food, safety and rest while on migration.
I was a little surprised and saddened that the surveying effort was not rewarded by more sightings of wading birds. Being close to a European Special Area for Conservation for such species, birds such as Curlew, Lapwing, Redshank and Golden Plover have used the fields far more than they did in 2024. It’s hard to know whether this reflects changing habits, land use or general declines in the populations of these species. Similarly, just one breeding attempt by Yellowhammers seemed a paltry number for a bird which is often present in much greater abundance. Again this could reflect the Yellowhammer’s preference for other local sites, or more worryingly, that farming practices and the general degradation of Murton fields is having an adverse impact on their numbers.
Observations such as these highlight the value of Murton fields in the context of the wider landscape, but also show how changes to, and management of, the land impact local bird populations from year to year. The fields are a mosaic of habitats but are strongly influenced by human actions. A place like Murton fields can seem deserted one year and yet teem with life the next. Understanding how bird populations use the fields year to year is vitally important if we wish to safeguard such species, both locally and at a national level.
Surveying the fields also rekindled my connection with the site, encouraging me to get out more, day and night, and gifting me a host of interesting observations – from Snipe as they began to call and wheel over the fields at dusk, to owl sightings, and the high-pitched tseep of autumn Redwings as they flew over high, straight in off the North Sea.
