I got the email at 19:14 on a Tuesday: Martin would be bird ringing at Rainton on the Thursday, 6am, and if I wanted to join him I would need a pair of wellies, a chair, and some anti-midge cream. Finally, after having to turn down three similar invitations due to other commitments, my diary was open. And so I met Martin on the Thursday, at 6am, with my wellies and a chair (I would later regret not heeding his warning about the anti-midge cream), ready and excited for my first bird-ringing expedition.

Joined by my Low Barns trainee counterpart, Heidi, the three of us set off through areas of Rainton I had never stepped foot in before, all the while following a faint trampled path through the undergrowth. We were armed with several canvas bags, contents yet unknown; a long forked stick; and what to me looked like a collection of very long tent poles. All of a sudden, we came to a stop along our path. Heidi and I watched curiously as Martin took a tent pole, stuck it in the ground, and looped on to it a black mass of netting which he had pulled from one of the canvas bags. A second tent pole was then fitted atop of the first. Curiosity turned into mild astonishment as we watched Martin reach out into the undergrowth and pull out a guyline as if from thin air, which he used to secure the tent pole.  After repeating such seamless assembly a couple of times along the path, Martin took the long forked stick and hoisted the netting to the top of the poles, revealing a long expanse of fine netting approximately 18m wide and 3m tall above our shoulders. It was revealed to us that this was known as a mist net, and was the key to catching the birds.

As we set off again through patches of scrub, woodland, and bog – here I was grateful for my wellies – Martin told us of his extensive experience with bird ringing and the British Trust for Ornithology, BTO. We were informed that Rainton Meadows is one of five sites monitored by Martin as part of the BTO’s Constant Effort Sites (CES) scheme; a nationwide bird-ringing scheme established in 1983 that collects annual data from 120 sites across Britain and Ireland. Whilst bird-ringing on the site long before it became involved in the CES scheme, 2023 marks the 16^th year that Martin has submitted data from Rainton for the BTO. That’s 16 years of 12 site-visits a year, 6am to 1pm. 1,344 hours, give or take a few. And as I mentioned earlier, Rainton is one of Martin’s five CES sites. Martin made sure to emphasise that an integral feature of the CES scheme is that it is standardised; ringing effort is kept the same each year by keeping to a strict time window both seasonally (between May and August) and per visit (in Martin’s case, 6am-1pm), and by ensuring the placement of the mist nets is the same each year. It was at this point that the miraculous locating of the guylines made sense – after all, Martin has been doing this for 16 years.

In total we set up 8 mist nets, each of varying size, and, according to Martin, varying success rate. By the time we had finished setting up, it was time to check the first net for any catches. To my delight, the mist net had proven productive, as was evidenced by a few small brown and white rumps that appeared suspended in the air. Having nearly walked into several of the mist nets myself, I could sympathise with our catches. With the finesse and care of someone who had done so countless times, Martin untangled each of the birds in turn and placed them in their own little canvas bag, which he tied and attached to a colour-coded caribena which he carried around his neck. It was surprising to find that, whilst some of the birds could be quite vocal when being removed from the net (I'm looking at you, reed warblers), they often became silent when placed in the bag. Martin said this was not unlike calming a crying baby by placing it in a dark room; removing all external stimuli will make the bird feel safer and less distressed. Despite this, it is important not to keep the birds in their bags too long, and as such, after making the rounds of the other nets, we made our way back to the visitor centre.

If you have been to Rainton Meadows before, you might have seen Martin sitting at a small table in the car park, surrounded by books and small white bags which occasionally chirp or wriggle. And so sets the scene for the data collection segment of the bird ringing expedition. After pulling my chair up to the table – again, I was very grateful for Martin’s recommendation of the bringing of the chair - it was time for me and Heidi to learn the process of data recording. Using a reed warbler as the first example, Martin started by talking us through a complex system of age classification based upon certain physical characteristics including feather condition, colouration, and moulting stage. The bird would then be sexed, have its wings measured, weighed, and assigned a ring if it hadn’t one already. All of these data would be written down neatly in the book, often in a perplexing system of codes. It was clear to see that whilst Martin could collect and record these data with confidence, efficiency and ease, for a complete beginner such as myself, such a skill would take months if not years of practise. The data that Martin collects and submits, alongside that from all other ringers associated with the CES scheme, allow the BTO to formulate important population measures relating to passerine birds, such as survival rate, adult abundance, and population change over time. Such data is vital to the monitoring of UK bird populations and can be used to both understand the effects of changing environmental conditions and inform future habitat management and conservation efforts.

I suspect it is the common experience with helpers before us that made Martin ask if we would like to hold the bird before setting it free, and I hope it wasn’t with too much haste that I put my hands out in response. After making sure to show us the correct technique for holding the bird to ensure it came to no harm, Martin placed the reed warbler in my hand. It was a novel experience for me, having not held a passerine before, and even though I knew this bird weighed little more than a pound coin, I was still shocked at its weight. Had it not been for the subtle warmth and the slight pulse of a heartbeat, I would think I was holding air. Reluctant to keep the bird hostage for more than was necessary, I opened my hands and let the bird free.

Once all birds were recorded and released, we set out to complete another round of checks on our mist nets. At first, after only finding two birds in the first five nets, we couldn’t help but be a little dismayed. But when I caught a glimpse of brilliant blue in net six, I knew our luck had changed. Martin says that an experienced bird ringer can expect to catch one kingfisher every three years. And here Heidi and I were, having caught one on our first day. Out of approximately 1 million birds caught each year through bird ringing, only 1 thousand, or 0.1%, are kingfishers. I must admit I wasn’t all too excited by the fourth reed warbler we had caught that day when we found it in net seven, for I was too eager to get back to the car park and inspect the kingfisher. When the time finally came, I was particularly enthralled by the smooth, robotic 270° rotation of its head as it scanned its surroundings. With its mesmerising blue plumage, it is hard to believe that this is a native bird. It certainly is the jewel in our ornithological crown.

After completing a few more rounds of the nets and recording our catches, the mist nets were taken down at approximately 1pm. Our total bird count for the day came out at 31. Martin told me his average for this time of the year is 65. Whilst I naively tried to argue that our kingfisher made the day one of quality not quantity, Martin was not convinced. It is hard to say why the day was not as productive as one would have hoped; it could be attributed to many factors including weather and habitat change. Nonetheless, data is data, and sometimes a lack of it can provide informative connotations about bird populations that year. Indeed, although we did not catch as many birds as we would have liked, for me, and I’m sure Heidi would agree, the day was excellent. Aside from the kingfisher and numerous reed warblers, we also caught a pair of robins, a chiff chaff, a bull finch, a reed bunting, a blackcap, a whitethroat, a lesser whitethroat, a goldfinch and a willow warbler. It is one thing seeing a bird up close with a good pair of binoculars, but it is another thing holding it in your hand. After my experience on the day, I am eagerly awaiting that next email from Martin.

A special thanks to Martin Hughes, for insightfully answering all my incessant questions, and for making my first bird ringing experience so enjoyable.