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.