Suffolk Reprise: Walberswick Zitting Cisticola

Most birders with their finger anywhere remotely near the pulse of national birding news will be aware of the discovery last Sunday of a Zitting Cisticola in Walberswick in Suffolk. Now, most recent records of this species have been of either single-observer sightings or birds that only a nearby local could possibly twitch. During my time birding there haven't really been any twitchable birds to even make me ponder slightly the prospect of an attempt. However, this bird has set up territory and had been doing regular display flights for a number of days - it was emminently twitchable! So what was stopping me making a return journey to Suffolk? Well, firstly, the views were by all accounts extremely distant. I was told that it was only viewable in flight and that it was a good 100 metres away. Secondly, I was very busy with work all week and while I could have rearranged things, I wasn't really feeling the urge so desperately that I would do this. For me there is a certain inertial barrier to twitching which requires a reasonable amount of keeness/desperation to see a bird to push me to take the necessary steps. That tipping point wasn't quite being reached so I watched from the sidelines. However, come the weekend the rest of the family were heading to London for the day. Being left to my own devices all day was the extra push I needed and I decided to get up early and head off on news. In any event, I had enjoyed my previous trip to Suffolk to see the Black Stork and with Minsmere nearby I decided to make a day of it.

My sleep patterns presently are a bit hit and miss. They go through periods where it's pretty good and other more disrupted periods. I was currently in the latter mode. This meant that I woke far too early and with thoughts of my day's outing in my head I wasn't able to get back to sleep. Hey ho - not to worry: I'm sure the adrenaline rush of the kind of high octane birding I was planning would carry me through the day - lol! . At 6am I sent a news request out on the national twitching WhatsApp group to which I belong and shortly got back a "it's still here" reply. That was the green light and I got up, finished sorting out my stuff (I'd done as much as possible the previous night) and I was out the door and on my way by 6:30am. Google Maps was reporting a journey time of just 3 hours at this time of the morning on a Saturday and with the roads initially empty I made good progress. A pit stop at the M25 northbound services and then it was the long slog north on the A12, this time even further than before. Shortly before 10am I arrived at Walberswick, which turned out to be a cute Suffolk town, similar in architectural style to Orford though heaving with people all heading to the beach. I parked up, and after a study of the map, found the correct path to take towards the bird, passing through an enclave of beach huts and tents where people were just getting started with their day of "beaching". I could see the line of twitchers in the distance and hurried along as best I could though the option of either soft sand or shifting shingle to walk on meant that progress was rather slow.

The beach on my left was all shingle and sloped fairly steeply down to the grey of the sea. Given the wind direction coming from the land there were very few waves and it was pretty flat as far as the eye could see. On the landward side there salt marshes with little pools and then a bigger pool area. A helpful notice mentioned not tresspassing on the roped off areas because of nesting Little Terns and Ringed Plovers. An entomologist (or bug'er - ha ha!) was sweeping his large net back and forth over the reeds in one section - no doubt catching interesting specialist species. I imagine this location is just the sort of place to find a newly arrived insect colonist. Of course the day's target might also be an early arrival of a potential future avian colonist to this country. Apparently Fan-tailed Warblers (to give them their older and frankly much better title - "Zitting Cisticola" is a stupid name!) are moving northwards and can be found in France and parts of Germany now.

After about twenty minutes I arrived at the twitch line of about twenty or more birders all looking out across the reeds. A tentative enquiry found that the bird was to be seen along the line of raised reeds marked with a little wooden fence though was usually only being seen in flight. Not long after people near me called out that the bird was singing again and flying briefly to the right quite low. I raised my bins and scanned frantically before briefly picking up the target bird low in flight against the backdrop of the reeds before it dropped down again. It's funny how when you see something completely new, that you somehow know it's the right bird despite it just being a little brown job in amongst other LBJs such as Reed Buntings. I remember the same thing the first time I saw the Aquatic Warbler in Sussex. Despite just seeing a brown blur in flight, the combination of colours and jizz just seemed different. Anyway, the bird was in the bag though with only a second or two of views, I certainly wanted more.

The view from the twitch line. The slightly raised darker reeds roughly in the middle of the photo was where the bird was hanging out

The bird was certainly co-operating. It was typically being seen or at least heard at intervals of between 10 and 30 minutes so there were plenty of opportunities. However, it terms of connecting, things started to get a bit difficult for me. People were regularly reporting it singing though with my dodgy hearing I usually couldn't pick it up. When I did occasionally hear it, it sounded to my ears like a Yellow Wagtail though instead of being drawn-out and down-slurred, it was compressed to a shorter, sharper duration and without the slur. As well as not hearing it, there was also the matter of picking it out in flight. A number of times it would be called out as in flight and constant instructions given of where it was in relation to distant landmarks. So "over the dead tree", "above the wood", "over the church", "over the X house" where X described a number of large distant houses on the horizon such as "thatched", "pink", "wooden" etc. However, try as I might, I just couldn't get onto it. As well as having trouble with my hearing, I really do struggle with birds against the sky. Eventaully I cottoned onto the fact that the bird was actually much higher in the air than I was looking and finally, after half a dozen failures, I manged to pick it out in flight.  However, my troubles didn't quite end there - my bins are completely knackered with the entire right eyepiece so scratched and messed up that I was told by a fellow birder who tried them that it was remarkable that I could see anything at all. So following the undulating small brown blob as it ducked and dived all over the place wasn't easy either. I also rather felt that the fact that I couldn't hear it "zitting" was rather detracting from my full appreciation of it's most characteristic feature. Still I did my best. 

The Zitting Cisticola Twitch

Between flights there wasn't too much else to look at. Some Terns were fishing on the sea including some Little Terns. I heard the brief scolding call of a Sylvia Warbler that sounded like a Dartford to me and indeed I overheard someone else mention a couple of times that they'd heard or seen one. There was the occasional distant pass of a raptor with Red Kite and Sparrowhawk both seen. Curlews and Redshank would periodically fly by calling and an Avocet was on the nearby pool. It was all very pleasant albeit rather low key. Oxon birder NT and his wife dropped in to say hello. They'd been at the other end of the twitch line and were just leaving to go and see the Black Stork.

Part of my process to compensate for my struggle in connecting, was to figure out who were the sharp birders who knew what they were doing and to try to sit or stand near them. They would hear or see the bird and call it out loudly and give running instructions which at least gave me a fighting chance. The stiff breeze was also making it difficult for me to hear the instructions (I realised I am starting to sound rather pathetic!) but somehow I managed the best I could.

"Portrait of a Struggling Birder" 
- selfie of me next to the sharp younger birders, waiting for them to find it for me

Eventually a whole bunch of the sharp birders decided to leave. By this time I'd managed to see it in song flight three times, alongside my initial low level flight view. Somehow, this didn't quite feel like enough so I decided to hang around a bit longer. However, surveying the remaining crew, I started to wonder whether they were all "waiting for someone else to find it" kind of birders, as I had come to accept I was on this trip. There was a young couple sitting quietly on the ridge of the dunes who were keeping entirely to themselves. However, by watching them I could tell that they were periodically picking it out but not wanting (I guess out of shyness) to call anything out at all. I tried to follow their bin movements but without any landmark-calling it was even harder than usual. Eventually some of the others heard it singing and picked it out in flight and once more I was able to get onto it. Having got my extra flight view I now felt that I'd seen it enough and started to head back. 

What a Zitting Cisticola actually looks like! Courtesy of Nick Truby

 

I took my time on the way back, stopping to admire the scenery and some of the coastal flora. 

Sea Holly

 

Sea Kale

 

Yellow Horned Poppy (sadly gone over - I've yet to see this species in flower)

The beach was much busier now and back near the car park there were quite a lot of people all out in what was becoming quite a hot day now. Back at the car I fired up the Gnome-mobile and headed the short 20 minutes down the road to Minsmere.

I'd only been to the RSPB's flagship reserve once before, back in August 2016 for the Western Purple Swamphen. When I re-read my account of seeing that bird I am reminded of just how incredibly lucky I was to connect with it at last light on the last day it was there. I must have been one of the last people to see it. Anyway, I was back again under more leisurely circumstance to have a little wander around. It was getting decidedly hot as I tooled up in the carpark and headed to the entrance before having to retrace my steps to get my RSPB membership card that I'd forgotten. Eventually I was inside the reserve and pondering where to go. There were three areas to explore: woodland, reedbed or scrape. In the end I opted for the scrapes. The South hide (near where the Swamphen had been) overlooked near empty scrapes with almost all the water having dried up. There was a single Avocet and a few sad looking ducks but that was about it. 

Minsmere Avocet above & below

I'd seen on RBA that a Spotted Redshank had been reported from the East Hide first thing that morning so I decided to head around there next. The tiredness from my lack of sleep was starting to catch up with me in the heat and it took a lot of effort to push onwards, carrying all my birding gear including scope, tripod and camera. Eventually I reached the East Hide to discover it was full of young families all keenly trying to identify what were very distant bird specks on the furthest pool away, that being the only one with any water left on it. Not that I'm complaining about the young families - after all, that kind of outreach is just the sort of visitor the RSPB is wanting to encourage so it was great to see so many engaged young minds. I found a quiet corner and set up my scope. It was rather hazy in the heat but there were plenty of birds to sift through. Lots of Black-tailed Godwits, some still in summer plumage, some moulted to winter already. There were five Green Sandpipers at the back and a variety of eclipsed ducks that I didn't make too much effort over. A family of Shelduck were there as well as a number of Greylag and Canada Geese with a single Barnacle Goose thrown in. All good stuff but I couldn't find the Spotted Redshank. Not that I was particularly bothered. Eventually I decided to leave the shade of the hide and to head back out into the heat of the afternoon.

I decided to head back to the café via the coastal path rather than the boardwalk. Up on the dunes a mystery bird perched on some Gorse as I viewed directly into the sun had me puzzled for a while before I worked out it was a Stonechat (I should have guessed!). A kindly older visitor pointed out a lovely Wasp Spider in the grass which was great to see. There was little else to see apart from more coastal flora of similar species to the ones I'd seen at Walberswick as I trudged along the dune ridge back towards the visitor centre. 

An impressive Wasp Spider

There I ordered a cup of tea and something to eat before collapsing in a shady corner of the outdoor terrace of the café. Here I spent some time cooling off and reviving myself with my tea and cake. Whilst there, I reflected on my trouble connecting with the target bird this morning. As far as not being able to hear the bird, I had previously dabbled with some NHS hearing aids though had come to the conclusion that I wasn't sure how much they actually helped. Maybe I need to revist this or perhaps invest in a proper pair of hearing aids. At the very least I made a mental note to bring my NHS hearing aids along to twitches in the future. In terms of not being able to see the bird, it was time to bite the bullet and get a new pair of bins. After all, given how much I have used my current pair, it would be money well spent however eye-wateringly expensive they might be. I guess it was time I stepped up and splashed out some money if I want to be able to keep on birding properly. The travails of getting older.

It was time to head home. I de-tooled and fired up the Gnome-mobile, and pointed her in the direction of home, It was much hotter now and with the air conditioning still broken (yet another pending outlay!) I had to have the windows open and to endure the noise which meant I couldn't listen to the radio. Still the miles gradually passed and the endless A12 finally became the M25 again and then the M40. As I'd done in my previous Suffolk visit, I stopped at the Beaconsfield Services for dinner there before the final leg home to Casa Gnome. It had been another successful day out in deepest, darkest Suffolk and another shiny new tick to my name. 

Boyton Marsh Black Stork

Black Stork is a species that has been on my radar for quite a few years now. Unlike it's commoner White cousin, it's quite a hard bird to twich in the UK. I had a failed attempt to see one down in Cornwall in June 2021 (see here). Apart from that I've never had the opportunity to try to twitch one. There was one that was seen regularly at Frampton in the autumn of 2023 which I consider twitching but never went for. So when one turned up in Suffolk at RSPB Boyton Marshes it certainly piqued my interest. However, initial reports were of it being rather elusive and unreliable with it apparently prone to suddenly flying off, not to be seen again for the rest of the day. Given the three hour drive it would take me, that was too much of a gamble and I'd put it out of my mind. However, yesterday morning I was sitting in bed with a cup of tea, catching up on yesterday's bird news when I noticed that the Black Stork had been seen all day yesterday from the same ditch. Had it now established a routine? I was still in two minds about it - it generally takes a little while for the twitching juices to work themselves up enough for me to get motivated. I looked at some of the photos which seemed to be taken from really close quarters. Was it by chance "porning it" (to use twitcher slang) ? I looked at my appointments calendar for today - completely empty. I'd not been anywhere for a while and decided that a day trip to the coast would be good for me even if I didn't see the bird. So in the end I decided to go for it. I got my gear together, made a flask of tea and grabbed a few snacks and headed out the door at around 9:40am. A quick stop for petrol and then it was the long slog down the M40, M25 and up the A12. Finally at around 12:30pm I started the "final descent" onto increasingly narrow countryside roads until I found myself pulling up in a small car park with a few other cars by some farm buildings that marked the start of Boyton Marshes.

I got tooled up and was just trying to work out which way to go when another car pulled up. It was a lady birder who turned out to be a local who knew exactly which way to go having seen the bird a couple of days ago, (albeit only in flight). So we teamed up as she led me on the half an hour walk along the sea wall. It turned out that we walked at a similar pace (it's always difficult if the person leading you walks too slowly!) and we soon struck up a conversation. She knew all the local sites and did a lot of voluntary conservation work in the county so there was lots to talk about. One of the things I really like about birding is how it can give an immediate conversational "in" which can lead to meeting all sort of interesting people. We got on well and, personally, it was nice to have a twitch companion as a change from my usual solo efforts.

To start with I had the usual "will it fly away before I get there" nerves. We could see the handful of birders a long way in the distance and I wondered if we'd see the bird if it were to fly off . My companion assured me that when it flew it was usually towards Orford Ness which should mean that it would pass over our heads as we walked along the sea wall. The fact that the distant birders were staying put was an encouraging sign and the occasional returning twitcher would always reassure us that it was still there. As we walked I took in all the wonderful scenery. It was a lovely tidal landscape with salt marshes on the near side and the distant island of Orford Ness on the far bank of the River Alde. On the landward side of the sea wall were reedbeds, some fields and some (sadly) dried up scrapes. My companion said that Bearded Tits were to be found there so I kept my ears open, though without any success.

Eventually we got close enough that we could see along the ditch where the twitchers were standing, still a good few hundred yards away. I had a scan with the bins and lo and behold there was the Black Stork! It was striding across the ditch before tucking itself close in out of sight under the near bank. At least I'd managed to see it and I could now relax. 

My first view of the Black Stork in the distance

 

We walked the last few hundred yards and joined the ten or so other twitchers. From where they were standing the bird was completely hidden, tucked as it was under the near bank. Still they'd reportedly already seen it very well as it had spent a good amount of time out in the open more or less opposite them. So I took the chance to put down all of the clobber I was carrying (including my unneeded scope) and to pour myself a cup of tea from my flask. After I'd refreshed myself enough I got to thinking that when the bird was tucked in like this, where we were standing was probably the worst place to be and that by moving along the bank a bit I might get a better view. So I went about 100 yards back the way I came and was just looking around when I spotted it right out in the open opposite where I was standing. It had clearly crept along the near bank quite a distance before coming out into the open again. I managed to whistle loud enough for the distant birders to hear me and they came over to pap away at the bird while it was out in the open. 

 

It was very impressive to see such a large bird so close, it being no more than 30 metres away. As a juvenile, instead of being a proper black colour it was a rather drab brownish colour on the head and back and was without the bright red bare parts of the adult bird. I took some video and photos with my SuperZoom bridge camera and after a few minutes the bird once again moved under the near bank and out of sight again.

Some video, best viewed at HD1080

This proved to be the main pattern of behaviour with it often being out of sight before making an appearance for a few minutes, each time in a similar area and each time ridiculously close. It didn't seem to mind the birders being so close and just fed away happily as it walked about. I presumed that it was feeding just as happily when it was out of sight but along the near bank rather than the far one.

I'd mentally told myself that at 2:30pm or after one more showing, I would leave and the bird duly put in another appearance pretty soon after that. So, true to my word I started to head back and my birding companion for the day decided to come with me. We walked slowly back so that we could enjoy the sights and sounds of this lovely reserve. Not that there was a a great deal to see but it was very atmospheric so I took lots of scenic photos. 

Above and below, the picturesque salt marsh landscape

 

On the way back we managed to hear (and my companion even briefly saw) some Bearded Tits. Back near the entrance we came across a Common Sandpiper and on the pond near the car park was a Green Sandpiper. We did look for the resident Little Owl but without any success. After that we said our goodbyes and parted company. 

I decided to nip over to Orford to have a wander around and to get a cup of tea so set off on the 20 minute journey. I'd visited once before many years ago and it was as picturesque as I remembered it though with far more tourists - it was pretty much empty back then. I wandered along the shoreline a bit, taking photos and just enjoy the landscape before going for a cup of tea and something to eat at a little café on the shoreline of the river. It was all very lovely and I enjoyed just sitting in the afternoon sunshine and thinking not much at all. 

Above and below, Orford scenes

 

Eventually I had to pull myself out of my reverie and to start to think about the journey back. I headed back to the car park and fired up the Gnome-mobile and set the Sat Nav co-ordinates for back home. The journey back was uneventful though rather long though Radio 4 did manage to help while away the time. I stopped at a service station for dinner once I was back on the M40 as I knew I'd be too tired to want to prepare anything for myself once I got home. I eventually arrived back home at Casa Gnome just after 9pm, very tired but very pleased with my day out to Suffolk and my shiny new tick.

 

 

 

 

Rare County Dragons: Oxon Norfolk Hawker

Norfolk Hawker, as you may guess from the name, is traditional associated with East Anglia and has up until now been confined to east Norfolk around the Broads area. Indeed, I made a special trip to Strumpshaw Fen back in 2016 where I saw my only one (along with Swallowtail Butterfly and Scarce Chaser). So when last year JD photographed one at RSPB Otmoor in Oxon, it was a very unusual record. It seemed to be a one-off sighting as there were no further reports of it and to my knowledge no one attempted to twitch it. 

Fast forward to this year and last Friday evening  GC found a Norfolk Hawker on the Blenheim estate at Woodstock. It was frequenting a small area at the end of a side arm of the main lake where GC watched it for just a minutes, allowing him time to grab some photos to clinch the ID. Whilst this was certainly interesting, the fact that it hadn't been found until after 6pm and that it was only seen for a short period of time meant that, as far as I was concerned, it wasn't worth trying to twitch it. Still it had piqued my interest enough for me to wonder whether it was worth trying to find it the next day. 

Come Saturday morning, with the rest of the family out for the day I thought about what I wanted to do. In the end I opted for visiting Radley Lakes to try to catch up with some Lesser Emperor dragonflies, which after last year's invasion, were being seen regularly at this site along with others in the county. I was half way around the main lake there, having just seen one briefly so far when news came through on the local WhatsApp message chat that GC had refound the Norfolk Hawker in the same place. I messaged him for details and then hurried back to the car to head off to Blenheim which was about half an hour away. He told me that it was quicker and quieter to park up at Combe Lodge gate and the walk in from there. I hurried off and negotiated the fairly light traffic and the winding back roads that lead up to Combe Lodge. It was another baking hot day though once I'd passed through the gate and entered the cool of the wood it was much more pleasant. It had been a few years since I'd been to this end of the Blenheim estate and I enjoyed the quiet coolness of the woodland as I walked towards the location. 

I had wondered how easy it might be to find the target on my own but in the end I needn't have worried as GC was still there, standing by the metal gate where he has instructed me to go. As soon as I arrived he pointed it out to me. It was by far the nearest dragonfly, patrolling steadily up and down within about 5 yards of the gate. It's flight was rather measured and steady and it was easy to pick out the salient features even in the air. The green eyes at the end of the otherwise brown Hawker-sized body along with the clear wings were immediately obvious. During the three quarters of an hour that I was there it was constantly on show and constantly flying. GC told me that it had only just started to do this shortly before I arrived and had been only intermittently on view prior to that.

The Norfolk Hawker in flight courtesy of Gareth Cashburn

Looking around there were various other large dragonflies: several Emperors and Brown Hawkers were about though they were always much more distant. GC told me that the Norfolk Hawker had been very aggressively defending that area over the reeds by the gate so I guess the others species had learned to stay away. GC told me that he thought that there might in fact be two of them and this was later confirmed by photographs though I never saw more than the one.

The Norfolk Hawker site - it liked to patrol over the near reedbed

After a while I decided to head over to the main lake to look for Lesser Emperors. GC had seen several yesterday on the Main Lake by Rosamund's Well. We headed over there together in the increasing heat and spent some time looking. We found a couple though they were very distant right out in the middle of the lake and there were no photo opportunities. GC had to leave so I headed back to the Norfolk Hawker site. There was no initial sign of it though after about 10 minutes it was suddenly buzzing around again in the same area. Apparently, this species is known for settling and staying still for much longer than most Hawker species which are usually constantly on the wing. I watched it for a little while longer before headed back towards the car, out of the heat into the coolness of the woodland once more. 

A perched photo of the Norfolk Hawker, taken the next day courtesy of Ewan Urquhart

 

The Norfolk Hawker was subsequently reported for a few more days but not seen at all the following weekend. However, JD went and found one at Otmoor - was it starting to establish itself in the county? With Southern Migrant Hawker, Lesser Emperor and Willow Emerald all having recently colonised the county it seemed that Norfolk Hawker too could become a county regular. Certainly I look forward to further encounters with this species in the county.

 

Orchids in Suffolk: Tongue Orchid & Bonus "Ochroleuca" Early Marsh

This week, my twitching buddies PL & EU were planning a trip to Suffolk, organised by the Hardy Orchid Society, to see a rare Tongue Orchid. There was much to-ing and fro-ing in sorting out the details and at the last minute EU cried off (called by the siren song of a couple of Mega's up north) and then the trip organiser himself fell ill. So in the end PL and myself sallied forth in the Gnome mobile, setting off late morning to arrive at the (undisclosed) site in deepest, darkest Suffolk. The trip took getting on for three hours and with the car's air conditioning having conked out it was a rather hot and tedious drive there. Still we arrived with keen anticipation and set off for the orchid location itself. 

There had been a couple of other people on the HOS trip who, in the absence of the organiser, had also made their way there under their own steam and one of them took us under his wing and lead us straight to the exact location. And there it was, sitting unobtrusively in a wildflower meadow on the private site. There were three stems, one very much on the way out, one in fine fettle and one a bit on the runty side. We set about taking photos as best we could though unfortunately the sun was positioned on the wrong side of the plants. We were under strict instructions by the site owner to avoid trampling at all costs and to stick to the designated path.

The Greek Ploughshare Tongue Orchid, above and below

 

 

Here showing the relatively small size at about 15cm tall in amongst the Buttercups

The lovely wildflower meadow in which the Tongue Orchid was located

So, what of the provenance of these plants? Firstly, there had in fact been some debate about their identity before it was pinned down (see here) by "Mr Orchid" SC and Kew Gardens as being Serapias bergonii. This species is commonly known as Greek (or Eastern) Ploughshare Tongue Orchid and is a native of the southern Mediterranean and Balkan countries as far west as Italy. It was formerly classified as a subspecies of various other Tongue Orchids before being declared a species in its own right. The Suffolk specimens were originally thought to have been planted there but the owner of the private land where they are located refutes this so they must have arrived under its own steam somehow. Anyway, it was good enough for me and I enjoyed this latest addition to my UK Orchid list.

Having got our fill of these Mediterranean exotics, we went on to our second location. This was very much a bonus visit that the trip organiser had set up, but in his absence we were happy to follow his itinerary. The target was the rare Ochroleuca variety of Early Marsh Orchid, a plae creamy variation on this already quite colour-varied species. Along with our new-found orchid companion, we made our way to the target site where we were greeted by the sight of a lovely boggy fen to tramp about in. Our pin-drop information turned out to be useless so we were left to find them ourselves. In the end it was easy enough, as their pale creamy colour stood out from the lush green vegetation quite strongly. There was also the clue (as always) of the trampling surrounding them.

Above and below Ochroleuca Early Marsh Orchid

 

One aspect of orchiding that I really like is the rummaging around in a bog (or wherever) by myself seeing what I can find so I soon wandered off. I managed to turn up a few more ochroleuca myself as well as some schoenophila varients of Marsh Orchid. The latter are what were formerly know as Pugsley's or Narrow-leaved before they decided to reclassify all the southern ones to this subspecies of Southern Marsh. Having got my eye in on Anglesey on my recent trip there, I was pleased to have picked out it's look-alike for myself.

Above and below - there were plenty of Southern Marsh Orchid

 

 

 

Above and below schoenophila Southern Marsh, 
or "pseudo" Pugsley's as I call them

Rummaging around in a bog - what could be better?

After a while PL and I decided that we'd had our fill and wandered contentedly back to the car. Then it was back on the road for the long slog back home. We both agreed that it had been a most excellent trip out. With a new orchid tick and a new subspecies tick as well, along with some top class bog rummaging, it had been a grand day out.

 

The Summer Uni Run - Pugsley's Marsh Orchid

My son has come to the end of his first year at York University. How time flies! It seems like only yesterday that I was taking him up for the start of it all and yet here I was getting him back again. As always, the trip up north offered an opportunity for me to see something  en route. I had been hoping for a Big One ("late and alone") to turn up but in the end the only action was in Shetland so I had to make do with things other than birds. I got to thinking that it would be a good opportunity for me to work on my orchid list which is now getting close to being complete. The obvious choice was Lady's Slipper Orchid which should be in full bloom around about now and easily visitable at Kilnsey Park, near Skipton in Yorkshire. However, a phone call to the lodge there during the preceding few days determined that sadly, due to the hot dry spring we'd had, everything had been a couple of weeks early and they'd all gone by now. Having now got the idea of orchid'ing into my head, I was determined to find something else to visit. The only other candidate that I still needed that wasn't up in Scotland was Pugsley's Marsh Orchid which should now be in full bloom. However, the best location for this was on Anglesey which was not what you might typically call en route to York. Still, it was at least going north and would have to do. In the end, I decided to go up in the afternoon the previous day and stay overnight nearby. I could then spend the morning knee deep in the local bogs before heading east towards Yorkshire in the afternoon. I could even catch a bit of early morning raptor watching at Wykeham Forest the next day before heading into York to pick up my son and then head back home to Oxford. The plan had been hatched - but how would it all turn out?

So it was that on Sunday afternoon I loaded up the Gnome-mobile and headed north on the M6 and then west along the A55 towards Anglesey. I arrived at my AirBnB in Pentraeth on Anglesey at around 8pm. This was ideally located no more than 5 minutes from Cors Bodeilio, my target location for the trip. The AirBnB turned out to be very basic but was in a quiet location and the bed was very comfortable. After a quick walk to the local shop to buy some provisions and to stretch my legs I was soon settled in for the night.

After a good nights sleep I was breakfasted and out of the door at 8am. As I said, it was literally only 5 minutes up the road to the parking area for the Cors Bodeilio reserve. This is one of three alkaline fens on Anglesey, along with Cors Goch and Cors Erddreiniog (Cors being the Welsh for "bog") - see here for an overview. Most bogs are acidic in nature but the surrounding porous limestone rocks mean that the water that filters through is alkaline in nature, making for a unique and rare ecology. This habitat is home to a variety of rare plants and insects, including my sought after target today, Pugsley's Marsh Orchid. Also known as Narrow-leaved Marsh Orchid, this was originally thought to be a much more widespread species. Indeed I remember ticking it for myself at Cothill Nature Reserve in Oxforshire a number of years back. However, the orchid powers that be decided after detailed DNA analysis that all those south of a line from the Severn to the Wash were actually subspecies of Southern Marsh Orchid. I don't know of other reliable sites for Pugsley's but I had been told by "Mr. Orchid" SC that Anglesey was the best bet and he'd given me detailed instructions of where to go. All that remained was for me to hope that these hadn't gone the way of the Lady's Slipper Orchids and were in fact still in flower. Having arrived, now was the moment of truth.

The Cors Bodeilio Nature Reserve

 

The gate from the parking area lead immediately onto a large wooden boardwalk that circumnavigated the north side of the first part of the reserve. I was greeted by a large boggy vista with some orchids immediately on view. That was a good sign! Closer inspection revealed these to be mostly Northern Marsh Orchids with some Early Marsh, Common Spotted and Heath Spotted Orchids in amongst them. I realised that it had been a few years since I'd done much orchid'ing (apart from chasing down Scottish rarities) and I was rather rusty on the commoner species. I hastened back to the car to get my field guide to remind me what I was supposed to be looking for and gradually it all started to come back to me. There was also a nice cluster of Marsh Helleborine right by the path. It was a beautiful morning and the air was full of bird song. A reeling Grasshopper Warbler was a pleasant surprise and Willow Warblers and Meadow Pipits were singing everywhere.

The bog as viewed from the boardwalk

Marsh Helleborine

Early Marsh Orchid

At the end of the boardwalk I went off-piste and carefully followed my instructions to the pin drop, eventually ended up at a suitably boggy area where suddenly there were plenty of Pugsley's Marsh Orchids. To be on the safe side I messaged a snap of one to SC who confirmed that I had indeed secured my prize. I spent some time tramping around looking at all the lovely orchids. They were mostly Pugsley's in this area with a few other species as well. After quite some searching I eventually found a couple of Fly Orchids - apparently very rare in Wales.

Pugsley's Marsh Orchid above and below

  

A Fly Orchid - very rare for Wales apparently

After a while I felt that I was done and ambled back towards the car, taking in all the sights and sounds. Now that the sun was up some dragonflies were on the wing though I only saw Four-spotted Chasers. In a month or so it would have been a great site for Common Hawker but it was far too early. I spent some time in the car having some tea from my flask and wondering what to do next. I'd mentioned raptor watching for the next day but a look at the weather forecast for Yorkshire showed heavy rain and strong winds forecast for tomorrow. Hmmm, if I was to have any chance with raptors it would have to be today. So in the end I decided to head directly there now rather than spending any more time on Anglesey. With a long four hour journey ahead of me, I fired up the Gnome mobile and headed east, stopping for lunch and a tea break to ease the journey. 

Towards the end of the journey a bit of a cock-up with the Sat Nav meant I had to retrace my steps and added half an hour to my journey time so it wasn't until around 5pm that I arrived at the Wykeham Raptor Viewpoint car park and walked the few hundred yards to the viewing location. This turned out to be a nice open area with a great view out over the valley towards a large wooded area opposite. It was well equipped with a couple of large benches and there were about a dozen or so people there. The vibe was rather anti-social and there didn't seem to be much talking between the various parties. I cautiously asked about recent sightings to be told that nothing had been seen for quite some time. 

The vista from the Wykeham Raptor Viewpoint

I was late to the party but it was a pleasant evening and I was happy just to stare out into the countryside and to unwind after my long drive. People started leaving fairly soon after I arrived so in the end it was just myself and a couple of others - a local from York and a visting birder from Surrey. We got talking and in the end had quite a good time. After a very quiet period things started to pick up and we had a couple of Goshawk sightings and some Common Buzzards as well but no Honeys. Crossbills and Siskins would fly over regularly and often sit in the surrounding trees. A lovely Willow Warbler was flying from tree to tree and marking out its territory with song right in front of us. It was all very pleasant. Eventually I decided that it was time to leave and headed back to the car. My host for the evening had given me some info on where to eat and I settled on a local pub on the way to my AirBnB. The AirBnB itself was a lovely characterful old mill house in the middle of nowhere about half an hour outside York. After chatting with my hostess for a while I was soon settled into bed for the evening.

The next morning the predicted rain and wind had indeed materialised so I didn't hurry. Instead I had a leisurely breakfast while chatting with my hostess. In terms of what to do, Kirkham Priory ruins caught my eye on the map as somewhere to stop off at on the way to York and so at around 9am I set off. This turned out to be a lovely spot by the scenic River Derwent with a small YWT woodland reserve nearby. A quick wander along the river through the reserve found a lovely party of young Marsh Tits blundering about in the woods and all sorts of other birds singing away now that the rain had stopped. It was all very beautiful. 

The picturesque River Derwent

Kirkham Priory ruins across the River Derwent

 

A recently fledged Marsh Tit

Then it was back into the car and on into York. The rendezvous with my son went smoothly and we were soon on our way down south. It was a long old slog after two full days of driving already and the car's air conditioning seemed to have stopped working so it was very hot. However, with a couple of pit stops for lunch and then some tea we made it back by mid afternoon. It had been a very successful Uni run with another new orchid species under my belt.

 

Otmoor Savi's Warbler (& Not Seeing a Red-footed Falcon)

It is universally agreed that up until recently it had been a very poor spring for birding in Oxon. Patch birding has been unusually poor: my own Port Meadow patch dried up mid April and birding was essentially over there until the autumn. County wide there had not been anything particularly "good", just a light sprinkling of what one might usually expect. That did shift a little with the discovery of the Temminck's Stint at North Cross Valley Way - certainly the bird of the spring so far in the county though there was not really any competition for that accolade. 

Now, nationally there have been three "influxes" this spring: Hoopoe, Temminck's Stint and Red-footed Falcon. We'd managed to get the Stint so that was at least one of them. There had in fact also been a Hoopoe in a Witney garden that was suppressed on the wishes of the owner. What about the Falcon though? It seemed that these charismatic birds were going to give our county a miss despite turning up in numbers all over the place. Suddenly a couple of weeks ago that all changed when a Red-footed Falcon was found along the Thames at Standlake just south of Pit 60 by SM. Cue a mass twitch by the county's finest. Unfortunately I was laid up ill in bed for the two days it was present and only made it down there on the third day where I passed a pleasant few hours in the company of EU and MP not seeing much at all but having a good natter in the process. Thank heavens I didn't need it in the county, having seen one close to the Bucks border at Piddington in 2020. Still, I was smarting from missing a good county bird that I could have seen had I only been well enough.

Yesterday things stepped up another whole gear when a mysterious report of a Savi's Warbler at Otmoor hit the news service in the morning. It wasn't from a local as that would have been published on the local WhatsApp channel. Eventually the source was traced to a Facebook post from a visiting Scottish birder who stated emphatically that it was a Savi's and not a Gropper. An advance party in the form of ultra keen uber-birder TM, armed with a parabolic dish and recording equipment, managed to confirm the ID. Apparently Savi's reel at 4kHz compared to Groppers at around 5.5kHz. So it all kicked off. 

In the morning a good number of county birders managed to connect before things got quieter in the afternoon. Now I had been stuck in various stressful meetings until the early afternoon and must admit to sweating somewhat under the strain of reading regular updates of it being seen while not being able to head out myself. Whilst I could live with missing the Falcon, this was a county first for everyone and not something to be missed if at all possible. At least it wasn't a lifer - I'd seen one at Lakenheath back in 2013. Accordingly, I made plans to turn up in the evening when Savi's traditionally start singing more actively again. I arrived in the car park at around 5:30pm and started the long slog towards the second screen where the bird was located. I met GB and SH coming back. They looked hot and tired and reported that they'd had a couple of glimpses in the three hours they'd been there but it had been hard work. Hopefully things would improve as the evening came on, I thought as I pressed onwards to the twitch site.

I arrived to find the county's great and good all assembed near the second screen peering intently into the reedbed. Viewing was not easy: there were straggly tall reeds right in front of us partically blocking the view and we were not too much above the height of the reedbed so it was hard to see. I was soon filled in on where to look and joined in the vigil. I started to realise that there was a distinct advanted to being tall in this situation. With my short height it was hard to see much. 

There are disadvantages to being short!

Soon a much younger birder behind me reported that the bird was reeling. I had been resigned to perhaps just getting this bird as "heard only". However, tragically, try as I might I couldn't hear the bird at all. Was even hearing this bird going to be beyond my aged hearing abilities? I started to worry. Thankfully, a little while later it sang from much closer and there was no problem with hearing it at all. That was the heard-only tick at least in the bag. Now, if only we could see it. 

Oxon's finest staking out the reedbed courtesy of Justin Taylor

The singing became more frequent until JC said "I've got it!". It was along a channel that was positioned more or less directly away from us that we could look down. It was still well hidden and the best I could manage with my limited height was a partially obscured glimpse before it dropped down. How frustrating! A little while later JC found it again, this time much less obscured. In the scrum that followed it was hard to get an unobscured view but eventually just about everyone got onto it. Except me that is who was still struggling to see it. Fortunately JT got it in his scope and I could finally see it properly. Amazingly it was completely unobscured - a rare sight for this species. A few seconds later and it disappeared but everyone had seen it. 

The Savi's Warbler courtesy of Roger Wyatt

..and digiscoped courtesy of Ian Lewington

After this, there was much rejoicing and the crowd became more relaxed. The bird carried on singing every fifteen minutes or so but, having seen it, people started to drift away. Whilst I'd seen it, I was still thinking that it would be nice to see it again and I was still carrying around some of the stress from my meetings that morning so wanted to linger in the pleasant evening countryside of Otmoor. So I hung on as the crowd diminished until it was just myself and a couple of late comers who had missed all the action. Weirdly the bird stopped reeling after about 8pm and didn't sing again by 8:30pm when I decided to head back. I took my time back to the car, savouring the evening light and the gentle bird song all around me. It was all very beautiful and just what I needed to ease away the stress. At the first screen I met SS who was waiting patiently for the Glossy Ibis to come into roost. I watched with him for a while but eventually left. He reported that it finally arrived at just before 9pm. 

The first screen in the gloaming

Otmoor sunset

I ambled back to the car and headed for home in a reflective frame of mind, enjoying the stillness of the evening. It had been a very pleasant outing and great finally to get another county tick after far too long an interval.

 

Local Birding Winter & Spring Round-up

I've been on a number of local outings to see things of interest so far this year. This has partly been driven by the poor spring performance of my local Port Meadow patch and partly just to add a bit of variety to my birding routine. I had been meaning to blog about these more regularly but somehow things got away from me. So without further ado, below are some of the nice county birds that I've seen this year.

Otmoor Green-winged Teal

This species is a bit of a county Mega with surprisingly few county records over the last 17 years or so that I've been county birding. I saw the Standlake bird in 2018 but that's been the only one. Compare that to American Wigeon where I've seen three in the county already. So when one was found in January of this year I decided to head out on a sunny Saturday morning to pay a visit. It was on show from the first screen fairly regularly and made for an enjoyable morning out. Now if we could only have one on Port Meadow...

Above and below the Green-winged Teal

Oxford Greater Scaup

This bird had been at Farmoor but in January hopped over to Hinksey Lake in Oxford. I was looking for an excuse to get out of the house and decided to walk there to get some exercise. It had been quite a few years since I'd visited Hinksey Lake - I used to go fishing there back in the day so it was nice to see it again. The bird was a bit more distant than when it was first found but I enjoyed seeing this species so close to home.

The Hinksey Greater Scaup courtesy of Gareth Cashburn

Farmoor Slavonian Grebes

A pair of these Grebes turned up on Farmoor one day, looking very smart in near full summer plumage. It had been a few years now since I'd seen one so I went to take a look. They were on show the whole time albeit rather distant. Nevertheless it was great to see them in their summer finery.

The two Slavonian Grebes

Temminck's Stint

Temminck's Stint used to be a bit of a speciality bird of my local patch of Port Meadow though there was no chance this year with the floods drying up there depressingly early in this very dry spring. However, Thomas Miller (see here) found one of these smart little waders on the hot new county site of North Cross Valley Way. A quick 20 minute drive from home one Sunday morning in May allowed me to admire this cracking little bird in what turned out to be a very nice looking site. One could easily imagine something stonking turning up there and fortunately the site is becoming quite well watched now.

Some video footage of the bird.

 

The first birders on the scene with me in the foreground digiscoping, courtesy of Justin Taylor