Calshot Boat-tailed Grackle

On Sunday, news dropped on the bird news services of a Great-tailed Grackle down in Hampshire. Now I consider Hants to be sufficiently close that I am prepared to go for more speculative twitches and am less strict about requiring my chance of connecting to be very high. Not that that seemed to be an issue with this bird as it was showing down to a few feet in a car park by the Solent in Calshot. There was of course the thorny question of "was it tickable". Now, by strict BOU standards it was never going to be accepted. Grackles are not really migratory so this bird was almost certainly ship-assisted, with it's proximity to a major shipping port underlining that point. All this meant that had this bird been any distance away, such as the one in Wales last year, then I would not have contemplated it. But this one was relatively close and also I am more and more finding myself departing from BOU listing rules, as I have written about in previous posts. So was I going to see it? I decided I couldn't be bothered to go that afternoon but as I had a fairly free day on Monday, I would go and see it after I finished my morning client session. That fact alone gave me a personal measure of how I was loosening my adherence to strict BOU standards. The truth was also that it had been a while since my last outing and I quite fancied a fairly easy, fairly short distance twitch. That, as much as anything else, tipped the balance and I made my plans for the next day.

Overnight, the bird identification was changed to Boat-tailed Grackle which didn't really make much difference to me as I'd not seen either before. This did, however, prompt me to do some research on the various Grackle species in the US which was very educational - see the end of this post. Anyway, the bird was still there and after my client session finished, at around 11:15 a.m. I got my gear together and headed off on the journey down to Calshot in Hants. With the Sat Nav saying 1 hour 50 minutes, it was a fairly straight-forward journey without any issues. Just as I got to the village of Calshot itself, I passed a row of houses that looked strangely familiar. Suddenly I twigged: I'd been there for the Spanish Sparrow back in 2012 - I thought the name Calshot sounded familiar! Anyway, today's target was right on the coast along a thin peninsula of land that jutted out into the Solent. With cheap car parking at the Calshot Activity Centre right next to the bird it was all pretty straight-forward. 

I got out of the car to find it very breezy and, having encountered frequent showers on the way down, I decided to dress up warm and even put on my waterproof trousers and my walking boots. Then it was a walk of no more than 100 yards to Calshot Castle where, rounding the corner I was greeting with a gaggle of birders crowded around one end of a picnic table with the oblivious Grackle at the other end, trying to get into an unopened supermarket sandwich packet.

The Boat-tailed Grackle contemplating how to open a Tescos sandwich

The crowd paying homage to the Grackle, who seems untroubled by his audience

To say the bird was approachable was an understatement. You could get as close as you liked, though it was wary enough to not take things out of peoples' (well, LGRE's) hand when offered. It would feed off bits of bread which it would wash down with rainwater trapped in tarpaulin puddles on the cover of a nearby boat and generally looked pretty happy. I took a variety of photos before it seemed to get tired and skulked off for a nap behind some wire fencing where there was a lot of stored containers, effectively out of sight. 

The Grackle with Calshot Castle in the background

 

 

This was a cue for myself (and lots of others) to head to the Activity Centre café for a drink and something to eat. After that, I went back to check on the bird which was still asleep so I had a little wander around. There were a few gulls along the shoreline including a Med Gull and a couple of Oystercatchers. The location looked ideal for Black Redstart but I couldn't see any on any of the buildings. Calshot Castle, complete with its own little moat, was a very interesting building that was worth taking a look at. This is one of the things that I like about birding: it randomly takes you to places that you would never otherwise go and visit and I do admit to a great fondness for rather windswept and desolate locations such as this.

Calshot Castle complete with a little moat

After a while the Grackle woke up and started moving about again, offering more point blank photo opportunities. I contentedly took some more shots before deciding that it was time to head off again. So it was back to the Gnome mobile (after paying the £2 for parking) and then back home to Casa Gnome, arriving back just after 4pm, very pleased with my little sortie. 

Grackle Info

So what about Grackles in general and the thorny question of to tick or not to tick? So here's my executive summary of these birds. They are divided into Common Grakle, with Purple and Bronze sub-species, and the larger Great-tailed and Boat-tailed Grackles. Grackles don't really migrate much though Common and Great-tailed do tend to move further south in the winter. Common covers much of the US, though is not really seen in the western states; Great-tailed covers much of the south-west and central area whereas Boat-tailed is only seen along the eastern and southern coasts, usually very close to the coast apart from the Florida peninsula where it is seen inland. In terms of ID, Common is smaller and therefore easily identified on that basis. Great-tailed and Boat-tailed are hard to distinguish with the differing head shape being the main feature: Great-tailed has a much flatter head whereas there is more of an angle between Boat-tailed's forehead and the bill. There is some eye colour differences amongst some of the Boat-tailed subspecies which can help separate the two where they overlap in distribution. This is why it was that only when photos were seen by US birders was the ID firmed up from Great-tailed to Boat-tailed. So the fact that this Boat-tailed Grackle was hugging the coast line literally 50 yards from the shoreline was typical for this species.

 

Listing Info 

In terms of listing, the rule for the BOU seems to be that if a bird is probably ship assisted and it doesn't normally migrate then it's not accepted. Birds that are probably ship-assisted but which do normally migrate a reasonable distance, usually get the benefit of the doubt. In my own time I've seen Dark-eyed Junco, White-throated and White-crowned Sparrow all suspiciously near large ports on the south coast and it's highly likely that they at least travelled some of the way by ship. So this rule is somewhat arbitrary but if you are going to have rules about what to count then this is as good a rule as any. 

Now, as I have stated in previous posts, I am becoming increasingly disenchanted with BOU listing criteria and have been thinking more and more about my own personal listing criteria. The tipping point for me has been this move to the new AviList definition of species, which no doubt makes sense from a scientific point of view but just seems to me to mean that I'm haemorrhaging ticks. I thought about it and reaslised that using species to define what to tick is a somewhat arbitrary rule, albeit one that makes for a reasonable starting point. From an "end user" point of view, I am not in any way motivated by science. What I am looking for is an excuse to go on a birding outing where there is a good chance of seeing something new so I can satisfy my "collecting" itch, and where I get to enjoy nature and to visit all sorts of interesting places. I am of course free to decide for myself what I am going to tick. So personally, it was more than worth the trip down to see the Boat-tailed Grackle and I am more than happy to include it on my extended personal birding list.

Yet Another Oxon Mega: Farmoor Twite!

In my last blog post I wondered whether there might be yet another rarity in Oxfordshire before the year was out. That thought has turned out to be rather prescient as indeed there has been some further top drawer Oxon birding action just in the last week. What's more the county rare bird finding machine that is JD has struck not just once but in fact twice in the space of 24 hours. What a year he's having!

It all started on Wednesday when mid-afternoon JD reported a Pectoral Sandpiper on Pit 60 from the Langley Hide. You may remember (see here) that this is the same site where he found the wonderful Marsh Sandpiper a couple of months earlier.  As I had already seen several Pectoral Sandpipers in the county, on my own Port Meadow patch no less, I was not desperate to see this bird and didn’t bother to drop everything and go when the news broke. A few keen birders did do so and managed to get some pretty decent views of it. Still I was interested enough that the next morning I got up early to rendezvous with JC and CM at the site. However, despite our best efforts it was nowhere to be seen and must have moved on in the night. There were a noteworthy 20+ Great White Egrets there which is an amazing count for Oxon though not really sufficient compensation. Somewhat disappointed with the lack of Pec Sand, I headed back home and got on with my day

However, JD struck yet again that day. I was midway through a client session at the time and made the mistake of checking a WhatsApp message during the session when news broke that he’d only gone and found a couple of Twite at Farmoor Reservoir. Total inner turmoil on my part as this was a real county Mega with the last definite county sighting being three birds briefly on the causeway at Farmoor way back in 2007. It was certainly a much needed county rarity for my list. I then had to sweat it out for another half an hour, trying to give my client my undivided attention before the session came to a natural end. At that point I grabbed my gear, bundled into the Gnome-mobile and headed off to Farmoor as fast as I could. This turned out to be not very fast at all. It was prime rush hour with loads of people all leaving Oxford at the same time. Every red light was against me and the traffic was heavy on the A34. There were even road works just before Farmoor village itself. Such torment! I finally pulled up in the car park at Farmoor and raced up the slope towards the causeway. I’d decided to travel light with just my bins and superzoom camera and my running shoes rather than my usual walking boots. I half ran, half walked along the causeway into a really strong headwind towards the far end. In this distance I could see a small handful of birders half way along the west shore of F1 (the smaller of the two reservoirs), hopefully still watching the pair of Twite. 

As I got within 100 yards they seemed to be start dispersing.

"Oh no! Had the birds gone???" 

My heart started to sink as they seemed to be packing up. This was the worse possible outcome of all: missing the birds by a matter of literally minutes. I could not believe it! With resignation I finally got close enough to ask what was happening. The birds had apparently just flown though not that far and had come down again about 100 yards further west along the path. 

"Was there yet hope yet???"

I made my tentative way along the path with a couple of other birders seeing if we could relocate them. Fortunately one of my companions spotted them roughly where he'd seen him come down feeding away on the margins just where the the grass was overhanging the tarmaced path. At last I got my first glimpse of this county mega and I could start to relax and actually enjoy them.

The two Twite, taken earlier in the day in brighter conditions courtesy of Jeremy Dexter

 

I say enjoy them but the light was appalling, it was windy as anything and it was starting to rain heavily. The birds were quite mobile as well: moving around back and forth across the path and into the longer grass poking the head up occasionally. I tried to take some photos though given all this it was hard work. After about 10 minutes they flew a short distance again and seemed to come down on the actual reservoir shoreline rather than on the path. After a bit of searching we managed to find them though they were tucked up right under the wavewall feeding away in a clump of daisies and it was hard to get clear views. More people turned up including Oxon Big Year lister CM with his two kids in their push chair. It reminded me of times in the past when I'd dragged my son L around to see various birds. I remember taking him to Farmoor to see a Bonaparte's Gull where he fell over and bumped his head, and also dragging a heavy push chair across the bog that is the Pill on Otmoor in the vain search for a Richard's Pipit. Happy memories!

Above and below, courtesy of Ewan Urquhart

 

Suddenly the birds flew off somewhere and nobody saw what direction they went. At that moment BS, the current Oxon Big Year leader turned up, having been stuck in traffic. Was he going to dip? The Oxon Big Year has been a very interesting contest to follow from the sidelines. I had done one way back in the day with JC and TW when JC broke the county record with 199 (+American Black Tern subspecies). I finished second with a creditable 197 (+ABT). Having done one I'd vowed never again and so was just enjoying the contest from the sidelines. BS was sitting on 190 (with a few things counted that we didn't back then) but needed his Twite. There was a bit of scratching of heads trying to work out where they'd gone. I told the group that the people who'd "handed over" to me when I'd arrived had mentioned that the birds had come back three times to the same spot, about 100 yards along the west shore so I suggested we head back there. As was started to walk that way news popped up on the WhatsApp channel that they were indeed back there. We all hurried over there and had another good look at them as they skulked about in the margins and BS managed to get his year tick.

I've included decent photos of the birds taken earlier on by better photographers with better equipment but this shows the reality of the situation. Drenched birders in gloomy half light watching tiny brown birds in amongst the thick grass!

 

By this stage I was started to get wet and cold and my camera lens was covered in rain. It was definitely time to head back. I hurried back at a brisk walk in the company of BS. I couldn't help but think how the mad dash in the appalling weather had made for a thoroughly enjoyable and dramatic twitch. Of course I could afford to think this given I'd manage to connect and, had I dipped, I might have felt very differently. But, after all the drama and tension, I had the warm glow of a great county tick - one that I didn't ever think I'd get given how rare they are. Back in the car park I cranked the heating on to warm up a bit and to dry out. Then it was back into the maelstrom of the rush hour and back home to Casa Gnome for a well deserved cup of reviving tea.  

Another from the finder Jeremy Dexter

 

As a footnote, it's worth just mentioning JD's amazing run of top draw county finds this year: Marsh Sandpiper, Bluethroat, Pectoral Sandpiper and Twite as well as a bonus Wood Warbler in the spring. What a year he is having and what a vintage county year this is turning out to be with Savi's Warbler and Red-footed Falcon being additional top county birds. I've had four county ticks this year already. Dare I hope for one more before the year is out? You never know!

Autumn Magic: Otmoor Bluethroat

What a vintage year this is turning out to be for Oxon. Usually as a land-locked county about as far as one can get from the sea we have to be content with picking up scraps of the occasional rarities and it's easily possible to go a whole year without any sniff of a county tick. However, this year we've already had Red-footed Falcon, Savi's Warbler, Marsh Sandpiper and Manx Shearwater and even a Honey Buzzard that was twitched by a few dedicated county birders. Surely there couldn't be any more this year? Well, it turned out that there was more to come. 

There was a certain sense of dejá vu to proceedings when county rarity finding machine JD messaged the local WhatsApp group to say that he thought he had a Bluethroat at the second screen at Otmoor. He was the same finder who initiated the last major twitch with the the Standlake Marsh Sandpiper. Once again, this wasn't twitchable on the day it was found, with only half an hour of daylight left once the ID had been firmed up . With it taking getting on for an hour from door to the second screen once the long 1.5 mile walk was factored in, there was no point in dropping everything so myself, no doubt along with the great and the good of the county, all feverishly started making our plans for the next day. Personally I had no meetings to worry about for the next morning so planned to be there at first light. 

Thus it was that I was up at the ungoldly hour of 5:20 a.m. and driving through the dark deserted streets of Oxford on the twenty minute journey to the car park at Otmoor. Here I found half a dozen other cars all parked up and other twitchers getting ready in the darkness. I found myself in the company of SM as we walked quickly along the paths in the darkness before eventually arriving at the second screen - about as far from the car park on the reserve as it's possible to get. There were about half a dozen others already there and in the half light I found a spot to set up my scope and join in the vigil. 

The view from the second screen looking towards the distant reedbed

We were looking out onto a pool of water surrounded on three sides by reeds. Last night JD had reported that it had been seen on and off in one particular area of the reedbed, working its way in and out of the base of the reeds. Now this species is notorious for often being really tricky to see with it's preferred reedbed habitat often making viewing extremely difficult. However, JD's account of it being seen regularly was reassurring. So it was just a question of whether it was still there. We were about to find out.

In the dawn gloom it was hard to make much out but we all peered intently at the base of the reeds, trying to find our target bird. The distances weren't helpful, with it being at least 100 yards to the back of the pool and it wasn't easy to make much out in the murk. Some 30 minutes or so passed and the crowd was just starting to get a bit restless when eagled eyed Uber Birder TM announced that he thought he had it right at the back. The trouble was that there were so few landmarks and we all scrambled to get on it. Things like "behind the cluster of white feathers", "next to the sleeping Snipe", "working it's way left" were bandied about as we all did our best. Eventually I was able to get on it, just making out its pale breast as it moved surprisingly rapidly amongst the reeds and along the shore. With confirmation from a second person, news was put out and soon after everyone else managed to get on it. Even with multiple directions it was often difficult to connect and there were times when I couldn't see it despite the person right next to me being on it and giving directions. Gradually however, it worked it's way left and nearer and as the light got better we all started to get better views. After showing regularly from about 7:10 a.m. onwards, at about 7:40 a.m. it worked it's way right into the corner where there was a  hidden channel that couldn't be viewed.

 

 

Video courtesy of Jason Coppock 

 

Photo courtesy of Gareth Cashburn

 

Happy Oxon birders, having seen the Bluethroat!

As a first winter male, this bird didn't have its blue throat yet so it wasn't possible to pin it down to subspecies. In fact, after reading up on it more, there are more than just the White-spotted and Red-spotted subspecies as it's a fairly widely distributed chat.  Indeed it can be found right across Europe and Asia and even has a foothold in Western Alaska. It is migratory and winters in the Iberian Peninsula, the northern half of Africa and also southern Asia. Whilst this bird was clearly a bit lost, with climate change we can no doubt start to expect more Bluethroats in the years to come. After all, the Slimbridge bird had now been visiting for the last five years.

Photo courtesy of Nick Truby

While waiting for the return of the star bird, there were a other few bits and pieces around to look at. A Water Rail was right out in the open and a Great White Egret was feeding in the pool along with a few Little Egrets and a Grey Heron. There were a few Teal, Gadwall and Mallards on the water, a couple of Kingfishers buzzing around, a Ringed Plover on the island in front of the hide and a Marsh Harrier sitting in a tree at the back. It was all very agreeable. 

 

Photo, taken the next day by Richard Stevens

More people started to arrive though to be honest I was somewhat surprised that there hadn't been more at first light. TM left first - it was literally his last day in Oxford (what a wonderful parting gift!) and he had to get on with moving out. With the bird not having been seen for about half an hour and, starting to feel rather tired after my early start, I decided to head back home soon after. I ambled contentedly back along the paths, enjoying the autumnal hedgerow scenery before eventually getting back to the car and heading back to Casa Gnome via Summertown for some shopping. 

The bird eventually reappeared and showed on and off throughout the day. Indeed, at the time of writing this, it was still around the following day. I wonder how long it might end up staying? In any event it was yet another a great county bird this year. Could there possibly be even more before the year is out? Given events so far one can't rule it out!

Autumn Uni Run: Burbage Moor Dotterel

It's that time of year again when I have to take one of my offspring back to University somewhere. These days it's my son up to York University where he is starting his second year of his Maths degree. As always, in the days leading up to the trip I kept a keen eye on any twitchable goodies that might even vaguely be considered en route but with prevailing strong south westerly winds the North East was looking very deserted on that front. In the end a bout of illness postponed the trip for a day so it wasn't until Tuesday that I felt well enough to sally forth. During a quick scan the previous evening for what had been about I noticed a long staying juvenile Dotterel on Burbage Moor just to the south west of Sheffield. Now, this seemed like a reasonable low key candidate: it had been there for several days so if it was reported again that morning there was a high chance it would be around all day; it wasn't too far out of my way and also it would involve a little walk up in some lovely moorland landscape in the Peak Distrct. What's not to like? After having missed a day of work from my illness and in the absence of anything more substantial to twitch and, I decided to return the same day rather than stay overnight so as to not miss any more days of work. So, that was the plan.

We set off from Oxford just after 10am and after an uneventful journey north along the M1 we turned up at my son's student digs for the year. It turned out to be a substantial Victorian house on one of the main arteries into the city. We unloaded all his gear and said our goodbyes and then I was on my way. It was about one and three quarter hours to Burbage Moor, back down the M1 and then off towards and through Sheffield, a city I'd not been to before. The centre reminded me of Newcastle in many respects and there were some nice leafy suburbs that I was taken through before emerging out onto a higher road that lead up to the Peak District moorland. I had a brief moment of concern when the route took me through the "Clean Air Zone" of Sheffield and said that I had to pay on-line. However, when I later looked this up it turned out that this didn't apply to my car - phew!

I duly arrived at the RBA-suggested parking spot where there about ten or so other cars parked. I got tooled up in my walking boots, bins and camera (no scope required for this judging by the crippling photos that I'd seen on-line) and headed up the sloping path that lead past a farm house and up onto the moorland. I kept my eyes and ears open for birdage on the way but apart from a Pied Wagtail and a Mipit there was nothing. Still, the weather was sunny with no sign of any rain clouds that had plagued the morning's journey and I was enjoying the landscape and being able to stretch my legs. After about 10 minutes or so I arrived at the twitch spot with about 10 other birders all hanging around, many with large lenses and a few with scopes. It was a funny location that looked suspiciously man made given how neatly circular it was. It was about 20 metres across with a bit of a crater inside that was holding some recent rainwater. Around the sides it sloped down a metre or so to the level of the surrounding grass. This grass only lasted a few metres before giving way to the moorland heather that otherwise dominated the scenery.

Google Maps Screenshot - the Dotterel was on the right-hand side of the bare patch. You can just see outlines of other circles to the right of this one. I've no idea what they are for.

 

 

The twitch location, showing the weird "crater" area the bird was frequenting

I asked a fellow twitcher about the bird and had it pointed out to me, lurking behind the raised area in the surrounding grass. It was wandering about a lot, sometimes up onto the crater where we all papped away like crazy and sometimes out of sight on the far side of the crater. When in the hinterland, it could sometimes be viewed by going to one side and looking across at an angle. It was all very relaxed and pleasant - just the low stress twitch that I was after. I took some photos with my superzoom but found that it was often rather difficult for the autofocus to lock on so quite a few came out blurry. However, so close was the bird that even I managed some acceptable photos of this obliging bird.

After a while I decided to head off for a little wander on the moors. I was hoping to score something interesting like a Grouse or maybe even a Merlin but in the event I only saw a few Mipits. Still it was nice to take in the vast emptiness of the moors and to empty my mind of any thoughts.

Above and below the "wild and windy" moors

I headed back for one last look at the Dotterel and the started to wander back down to the car. There I detooled and set the Sat Nav for home, about two and three quarter hours away. To start with I had the benefit of driving through the gentle rolling countyside of the Peak District before rejoining the horror that is the M1. I stopped off at a service station for dinner (which was pretty horrible) and eventually got back to Casa Gnome about about 8:45 pm. A low key but successful Uni Run trip with a nice bird and some lovely scenery. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oxon Mega: Standlake Marsh Sandpiper

I was just sitting in bed, unwinding after a busy day and idely scrolling on my phone when a message pinged in the Oxon birding WhatsApp chat. JD had apparently photographed a distant wader from the hide at Pit 60 in Standlake that morning. It wasn't until the evening when he looked through them that he starting wondering if the bird was actually a Marsh Sandpiper rather than a Greenshank as he had originally assumed. He shared the photos and after some discussion, the consensus was clearly in favour of Marsh Sandpiper. After all, there was a photo of it looking dwarfed by a Snipe so the size was immediately apparent. By the time the chat had died down it was after 11pm - way past my bedtime! I looked up what time sunrise was - 6:11 a.m. Oh well, it looked like I was going to be up early tomorrow!

The next morning I awoke at 4:30 a.m. and dozed until about 5:30 before realising that I was a bit late if I was going to be there at first light. So I rushed around as quietly as possible (so as not to wake anyone else) and was out the door shortly after 6 a.m. It was pouring with rain and consequently very dark and gloomy as I sped along the roads towards Standlake with just early commuters for company. En route news came through firstly of the bird still being present and secondly to confirm that everyone there did indeed agree that it was a Marsh Sandpiper. So it was game on! Arriving at Standlake, I parked up, donned all my waterproof gear and hurried down the path on the long slog to the east hide where the bird was to be viewed from. It wasn't particularly cold, just wet and in all my waterproof gear I soon got hot and sweaty. No time to worry about that now - there was a twitch on! En route to help pass the time I counted eight singing or calling Chiffchaff and one singing Willow Warbler. The slog seemed to go for ever until finally  I arrived, breathless and sweaty at the hide door and knocked (it was a key holder hide and I didn't have one) and was soon let in. 

Any doubts that I had were soon put to rest: yes, the bird was still there and someone immediately let me look through their scope "for the tick" and I could relax. There were five other people there before me and I found somewhere to sit, set up my scope and was soon on the bird. It was rather distant though its pallor stood out in the gloom and it was rather easy to pick up. I did try some digiscoping but the distance and light made it all but useless so I just contented myself with watching it. It was constantly on the move, shifting from bay to bay, constantly seeking out food. It's delicate bill and diminutive size made it look more like a Phalorope than a Greenshank, something I remember noting the only other time I saw one, in Gloucestershire back in 2014.

A representative view showing how distant it typically was, courtesy of Ewan Urquhart

The bird was generally hugging the southern shore which was lined with reeds but which had various bays dotted along it, at which the bird was feeding actively. Also present were a couple of Black-tailed Godwits, a Water Rail and a Common Sandpiper. It seemed to be unsure of where it preferred to feed as it was constantly trying new places. It would often have a little fly about before settling on the next location and was generally very active.

Flight shot courtesy of Ewan Urquhart

At one stage it briefly dropped in on a spit which was only about 40 yards from where we were. At that point the hide went into overdrive with everyone trying their best to photograph it while at the same time making "ooh yeah, that's it!", "come on, come closer!", "phwoar, look at that!" type of comments. Someone standing outside the hide door and listening would have been forgiven for thinking something altogether different was going on. I managed to botch my photo attempts during this brief "porning it" frenzy so below is the best effort of TM who was quicker off the mark.

 

Above and below, phonescoped courtesy of Thomas Miller

After that, it tried the north shore a bit, exploring all the nooks and crannies on that side before eventually returning to the favoured southern shore were it spent the rest of the time while I was there. With the bird easy to at least see even if it was too distant to photograph, the atmosphere was very genial and it soon turned to the usual friendly banter. People came and went, we reminisced about past county birds and generally talked the kind of rubbish that goes on at these events - and very enjoyable it was too!

Hot Hide Action (me in the middle with my trademark cap) courtesy of Ewan Urquhart

 

DL, in the hide was busy doing an eBird day list and we all got interested in what else was about. There were a couple of Great White Egrets, various assorted ducks including the much persecuted Duck That Must Not Be Named, the two Godwits, the Common Sandpiper and various Warblers which were being picked out at remarkable distances as they appeared in the reedbed near where the Marsh Sandpiper happened to be.

The Marsh Sandpiper (Tringa stagnatilis) is a small wader that breeds in open grassy steppe and taiga wetlands from easternmost Europe to the Russian Far East. The majority of birds winter in Africa and India, with some migrating to Southeast Asia and Australia. They prefer to winter on fresh water wetlands such as swamps and lakes and are usually seen singly or in small groups. In terms of their UK rarity value, they were pretty rare with 146 records between 1950 and 2022. Scanning through the recent records there seem to be a few each year though in some years they are not recorded at all. From an Oxon perspective, there has only been one previous record which was a bird that was found in August 2007 in Abingdon before relocating to Farmoor the next day and then disappearing. So certainly a proper county Mega! With two birds in the country at the time, this was thought to be the one relocating from Devon

As I had a client session at 10 a.m. I eventually had to tear myself away so I walked back to the car in the company of a couple of other birders who were leaving at the same time. Then it was back towards Oxford and Casa Gnome with a great county Mega safely tucked into my belt. The bird briefly disappeared mid morning when a Marsh Harrier flushed it but was back again fairly soon. It stayed for the rest of the day but was gone the next morning. Despite that, the memory of a great bird will linger on for some time to come.

 

 

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.