Birding back at camp

There’s very little daylight left after a full day volunteering in Kenyan schools, but I intend to make the most of it.

Here’s my surprisingly luxurious tent for the week at Muthoki Country Lodge:

It’s a quick turnaround as I grab my camera and head off down through the 40 acres of woodland to the lake from which the sound of frogs croak in the night. It’s an idyllic spot, full of life because of the efforts of the owners over many decades of inspirational reclamation and investment.

Initially I’m excited. Then disappointed.

The bird by the side of the lake? A Grey Heron, Ardea cinerea, a common bird in the UK. “Native throughout temperate Europe and Asia, and also parts of Africa.” Oh dear. Seen it before. In Central London in The Regent’s Park.

Heron portraits

The small bird with chicks on the lake itself? A Little Grebe, Tachybaptus ruficollis, a common bird in the UK. Oh dear. Seen it before. In Central London in The Regent’s Park. Maybe this is a different subspecies? The sub-Saharan one?

Little Grebe – big fish

Then I see a bird I’ve never seen before:

It’s tiny, grey-brown and acting just like a flycatcher, except it’s not moving very much. It looks like an African Grey Flycatcher, Bradornis microrhynchus. My book says “Greyer than Pale Flycatcher, with streaked forecrown and smaller bill.” The name Briodornis is from the Ancient Greek words bradus, meaning “slow” or “sluggish,” and ornis, meaning “bird”. Microrhynchus means small bill. The African Grey Flycatcher: a sluggish bird with a small bill.

There’s also a bright yellow bird in the same series of bushes. I don’t want to get too close to them as they might fly.

This one is a Golden Breasted Bunting, Emberiza flaviventris. Flaviventris means yellow-breasted. It’s a bird of open woodland. What a stunner.

As the light disappears fast, with the sun going directly down and out of sight, the atmosphere around the lake changes, and, just as the light becomes too poor for photography, a small group of African Sacred Ibis, Threskiornis aethiopicus, appear to roost in the tall trees around the lake.

It’s time to find out that the hot water has all been used by the other volunteers and that they are all wonderful people at our first dinner together. I’m also about to experience the joy of farm-to-table dining. I’ve come prepared with an icebreaker exercise if we need one. I’ve had some of my favourite Puffin photographs printed as postcards and aim to spread them out on a side-table and ask everyone to choose their ‘Spirit Puffin’; the one photograph of a Puffin which speaks to them. It works like a dream. Everyone’s very keen to choose theirs. After dinner we sit around the campfire and each person says what drew them to their Spirit Puffin.

I join in and choose mine. This is it:

It’s because it shows the struggle to earn a living, provide for your family, ensure your chick gets enough food, and the need to develop resilience to weather the storms and Atlantic spray which come your way. Somehow, this Puffin makes it back to its chick with a beak full of sand eels. As a working man who supported a family over many decades, I identify with that Puffin. It is my Spirit Puffin.

Out of all my photographs of Puffins here on my blog, which is your Spirit Puffin?

Tomorrow we’ll be out at more schools, hopefully running sessions for 0-5 year olds and their parents. In the evening I hope to be out by the lake just before the sun goes down once again.

As I lie in my tent, on the four-poster bed, underneath the mosquito net, listening to the frogs croaking from the lake and waiting for the Bushbabies to scream again outside, I think to myself, “It’s Kenya out there”.

More adventures in Kenya