Bempton 'Bertie & the Red-tailed Shrike

There have been many blog posts about Bempton Cliffs RSPB over the last couple of years, mainly because of its star headliner, the resident Black-browed Albatross. Up until now I've had to watch from the sidelines: at four hours each way from Oxford to Bempton, personally it was just too far to contemplate. Things got more interesting recently when Bempton 'Bertie was joined by a second star bird in residence, namely a Turkestan (or Red-tailed) Shrike. With the prospect of a two tick day, that could possibly justify an eight hour round-trip though it was still marginal. What tipped the balance however, was when my eldest daughter needed to head back to Durham. I "nobly" offered to drive her back rather than her having to take the train. So with the credit of these brownie points I could with a clear conscience head up to the North East and try to catch up with these two birds.

We'd all been away on holiday to Canada (expect a write-up sometime soon complete with lots of bear porn shots). My eldest daughter had stayed on for a conference the following week and on Sunday she finally arrived back in the UK. I'd offered to take her back up straight-away on the Monday - I was keen to crack on with it as I was worried about the Shrike leaving though in fairness it had been around for more than a month now. We set off at our usual time of about 8 a.m. and the journey up to Durham was uneventful. I dropped her off, had a quick cup of tea and a snack, and within half an hour was back on the road again. The reason for this quick turn-around was that the forecast was for heavy rain at Bempton later on in the afternoon and I wanted to get try to get both birds under my belt before it set in. I'd booked some accommodation nearby in Bridlington overnight and planned to visit Bempton again the following morning but was hoping that I wouldn't have to fret overnight about not having seen one of my two target birds. That was the plan anyway but how would it play out?

The trip from Durham to Bempton was a tortuous cross-country route that went on for two and a half hours. The journey wound its way past Middlesbrough, passed around Whitby and through Scarborough before I finally started to see signs for Bempton Cliffs RSPB. I eventually pulled into the car park sometime after 3pm to find conditions rather hot and humid. I quickly put together all my stuff, asked a helper for directions and yomped off down the path towards the Staple Newk viewpoint where the Albatross was usually seen. My plan was to drop in there to see how often it was showing, then nip over to tick the Shrike before coming back to get the 'tross before the rain set in.

It was a 15 minute yomp to the viewpoint where I found a dozen or so other birders, mostly armed with long lenses all hanging around. I was told that "it was showing every 15 minutes or so" which sounded far better than the stories I'd been hearing about waiting hours to see it. If that were the case then I thought I could afford to spend a little time waiting to see it before going to get the Shrike. 

Much has been written about the joys of Bempton and finally seeing it in the flesh it was indeed very striking! The first thing that hit you was the sound: an endless cacophony of Gannets calling, punctuated by Kittiwakes repeating their name. The next thing that hit you was the smell, the stench of guano was quite overpowering! Looking down, the cliff was mostly occupied by Gannets all the way from the very top down to the bottom. In amongst them and next most numerous were the Kittiwakes, perched precariously on tiny little ledges. Lower down one could see various Auks coming and going, mostly Puffins with a few Guillemots and Razorbills occasionally - I guess that it may be getting a bit late for these latter two. With some Rock Doves, a few Fulmars and Shags it was quite a spectacle to take in.

The view from the Staple Newk viewing platform

With a promise of only 15 minutes to wait I hung around for a while but there was no sign of my target bird so, with some ominous dark cloud out at sea in the distance I decided to go and get the Shrike first of all. This is where things went a bit wrong. My understanding was that it was in the hedge east of Wandale Farm (which was correct). What I got wrong was that it was not best viewed from the path west of the hedge that lead to the farm. I slogged my way all the way down to the farm only to spy some birders over on the east side of the far hedge clearly looking at something. So I had to slog back again, across the end of a ploughed field, nip over some barbed wire fence (to save having to go all the way back to the coastal path and up again) and finally I was on the right side of the hedge. Some other birders had got this wrong too and were stuck just on the west side of the hedge before realising that they too had to turn back. Anyway, I eventually made my way to a field of short grass where there was a single birder clearly scoping something. I arrived out of breath to be told that it was showing every few minutes. I sat down next to him on the grass and within a couple of minutes there it was, showing nicely just 20 yards away in front of us. 

A couple of record shots of the Turkestan Shrike, taken in the gloom

Isabelline Shrike was recently split into two separate species: Daurian Shrike (from Mongolia and West China tablelands), and the much rarer Turkestan Shrike from central Asia. I'd managed to see the former in Pendeen, right outside my holiday cottage there but so far Turkestan Shrike had eluded me. The word Isabelline is said to refer to a greyish yellow colour and interestingly is said to come from Isabella I of Castile who promised not to change her undergarments until Spain was freed from the Moors. Unfortunately this went on for longer than she anticipated hence the discolouration of her underwear.  I'd always felt that the name Isabelline had a rather poetic ring to it though this story does rather taint any romantic notions about the colour!

I spent about 15 minutes watching it, taking some photos and chatting to my companion. In passing he told me that it was possible to view the Albatross when it was on the cliff even if it wasn't flying and he explained where to view from. With time marching on and the Shrike under my belt now I wanted to try and get the 'tross before the weather set in. However, within a few minutes of setting back towards the cliffs the heavens opened and I was soon completely soaked. In my haste to get going I'd left my waterproof trousers in the car and I realised too late that I'd also forgotten to replace the lens caps on my scope so both lenses were now rain spattered. Gah!

Just as the rain started to ease I arrived back at the coastal path and headed round to where I'd been told to view from to scan the cliffs. My Shrike companion turned out to be close behind me and he showed me the exact spot: about 400 yards beyond Staple Newk where the path splits into two and then rejoins again. From here you could look back towards the cliffs and see everything that was on this side of the steep ridge that slopes down from the cliff top to the sea. He explained how far down to view and just with my bins (which were mercifully still dry!) I started to scan. "There it is" I exclaimed to two other people who were also looking for it. Indeed it stood out clearly amongst the throng. 

The Albatross perched on the cliff

I started to assemble my scope and dry off the lenses to take a better look. One of the others said "has he gone now? I can't find him" and sure enough when I looked again there was no sign of him. Could he have flown off in that time? He must have done! I disassembled my scope again and headed back to Staple Newk where there was just one person, a lady sensibly clad head to toe in waterproofs. She told me that the Albatross had indeed just flown off and she could just about see it on the sea through her bins though it would be very hard to give directions. Given how poor the lighting was I decided I wouldn't bother trying to see a small dot on the sea. 

So I waddled back to the car in my rain-soaked trousers. There I cranked up the heating, changed my trousers (I'd thankfully brought a second pair) and treated myself to several cups of tea from the flask and indulged in some celebratory snacking. Talk about cutting it fine! I'd managed to see the Albatross for the last 10 seconds before it flew off. Still, I'd clearly seen it so at least it meant I could relax for the evening. Having finally dried off and recovered from my soaking, I drove the car the 15 minutes into Bridlington to where I'd booked a nice little hotel right on the seafront at the north end of the beach looking out onto the sheltered Bridlington Bay with Flamborough Head in the distance. Here I had a quick shower to warm up then relaxed for the evening with a tasty curry, washed down with a beer from the bar. I spent the evening watching K-dramas (my guilty pleasure!) on Netflix before turning in for the night, listening to the waves lap against the shore and the occasional sound of calling gulls.

With both birds under my belt already there was no need for a first light dash back to the cliffs. Instead I opted for a comparative lie-in and a cooked breakfast before heading back at around 8 a.m. At least that was the plan though my intermittent insomnia kicked in at I was awake from 5 a.m. onwards. Still, I saw a flock of Sandwich Terns fly through along the beach and I took some time to finish drying off  with a hair dryer some of my gear from yesterday's soaking. 

After breakfast I drove the 15 minutes back to the reserve where I found the car park largely empty, with only the keenest of birders there before me. I got ready and headed off along the cliffs once more. En route I was treated to some nice views of a Barn Owl hunting in the grassy fields that line the edge of the reserve. As I went a few birders were coming back the other way so I asked about the Albatross (there'd been no news on RBA as yet) only to be told that there was no sign of it so far. I got the impression that these people (they seemed like locals) would have checked the cliff top view to see if it were there so it seemed like it had not returned after its departure yesterday. If so then I would indeed have scraped my tick by the skin of my teeth yesterday evening!

I headed back to Staple Newk platform where I watched the to-ing and fro-ing of the birds for a while, taking it all in. As the light was better I took a few photos with my Superzoom though of course the quality is nothing compared to the myriad of top class Bempton photos out there on the internet.

With there having been no news on the 'tross from anyone on the platform I thought I would go and check the cliff viewpoint before going for Shrike seconds. There was indeed no sign of it in its usual roost point where I'd seen it the day before so I headed back for the Shrike. This was still there in the same field and I took some more photos of it.

Some video I took
(thanks to Badger for the editing)

After a while I headed back to Staple Newk to check on news but there had still been no sightings. I decided to head back to the visitor centre to take a look at the large Tree Sparrow population and to explore some of the nooks and crannies near the car park. This area has hosted some mega rarities (e.g. Eastern Crowned Warbler) in years gone by and it did indeed look very good. There were plenty of Tree Sparrows about including some young birds and I took some time enjoying their company.

Bempton Tree Sparrows

I next went to the café for a mid morning cup of tea and a snack. I was wondering what to do. In the absence of the Albatross I was asking myself if I should head back, perhaps stopping in for the Black-winged Stilts at Potteric Carr on the way. I was just about to start my tea when news came up on RBA that the Albatross was viewable distantly on the sea from Staple Newk. I hurried back to the car to retrieve my gear, pouring my tea into my flask for later before hurrying back to the platform. There, after a bit of asking, I found the person who had reported it. It was horribly difficult to get directions on the bird which was a distant (though clear enough) blob in his scope but eventually he got my scope on it and I could take a look for myself. A succession of other people then took a look through my scope before someone knocked it off alignment and after that I couldn't find it again. Lots of other people could not get on the bird though a couple of younger birders did manage it for a while. It was really hard to pick out though as it was drifting all the time.

It started to rain again, though mercifully not too hard. After a while a couple of people refound the bird, this time much closer and much clearer. I had just got onto it again in my scope when it started to fly. I tracked it in my scope, enjoying the sight of a flying Black-browed Albatross in my field of view. A couple of years ago that would have been quite something to be writing! Eventually it got close enough that I switched over to bins and finally we all enjoyed some cliff front fly-bys before it settled on the cliff out of sight again. 

A couple of record shots of the bird as it approached the cliffs.

I know that this is a bit of an "old hat" rare by now and everyone and their dog has already seen it but I had a re-read through of the Bird Forum thread on the bird and everyone was saying was a special and unique experience it was to see it. Having now seen it for myself, I have to say that I have to agree. It was indeed an amazing sight to behold seeing an Albatross flying back and forth at a close distance in front of me. It was a very special moment that I will not forget in a hurry. I too have become one of these "religious converts" and a true believer!

With the bird now out of sight from the viewing platform I went back to the cliff viewing point to take a look at the bird back on the cliff and once again I could pick him out fairly easily in his usual spot. Having now seen him in all the different viewing modes (cliff perch, cliff fly-by and speck on the sea) I felt that I'd had the full Albatross experience and as time was marching on I happily headed back to the car to get ready for the long slog home. I detooled, had a slurp of tea and then programmed the sat nav for the journey back. The first leg of the trip was tough: my lack of sleep was now catching up and I had to concentrate carefully. I stopped in a layby for lunch to try to pep me up and I managed to make it until I reached the M18. After that, the motorway driving meant that I felt more awake and it was an uneventful (though still rather long) drive back home to Casa Gnome where I finally arrived just in time for a celebratory roast dinner prepared by my VLW. It had been a great trip out, with two shiny new life ticks for my troubles.

Addendum

In case there are any people who have yet to see either bird below are some instructions that I wished I'd had when I visited as it would have saved me quite a bit of time and effort

Shrike Access

From the coastal path take the path through the kissing gate (circled yellow) and follow the dotted line path along the hedge to a second kissing gate at the end of the field (circled green). The shrike is in the field of short grass between the gate and the telegraph pole in the hedge (along the red line). It shows regularly every few minutes or so.

Albatross Viewing

To see the Albatross on the cliff itself you need to go past Staple Newk viewing platform and follow the coastal path until it splits into two. A little while later the two paths rejoin. At that point view from the cliff top back towards the sloping rocks of Scale Nab.

Look back towards the cliffs where the two paths rejoin 

To see the bird you need to look at the slope of the rocks. At first it is reasonably steep (see yellow line below), before it becomes a bit less steep for a little bit (red line) and then drops off even more steeply (blue line). At the start of the red line bit look on the cliffs in the green circle. Note that this also more or less lines up with the base of the cliffs behind it as well. You should be able to pick it out with bins OK.

If you look carefully you can just see the Albatross in the top left-hand corner of my green area

Chasing Scarcities - Shillingford Scarce Chasers

The summer months are a time when there is usually a lull in birding and, like many others, I tend to turn my attention to flowers and insects instead. I've been keeping it fairly low key so far, just visiting the Trap Grounds to look at the Odonata activity there and so far have not paid any visits away from my local patch. This all changed last week when a Scarce Chaser dragonfly was found on the river Thames at Shillingford on Tuesday by a local Odo enthusiast, JB, who regularly patrols this stretch of the river. Now Scarce Chasers are rather a localised species nationally with their main areas being either East Anglia or around the Bournemouth area. Indeed there have only previously been two or three records for the county so this was kind of a big deal in the Oxon Odo world. This would make a nice little trip out though I wasn't free the next day when it was seen again. However on Thursday morning, on what was forecast to be the hottest day of the year so far, it was reported as still present as I was just setting off to take a look for myself. 

By the time I had parked up by the Shillingford hotel and run the hay fever gauntlet of the mass of uncut grass in full flower all along the river bank path, a second male had been reported in the same general area. I arrived to find three other enthusiasts who had been watching the original Chaser for quite some time. Sadly, in typical fashion, it had just flown off before I arrived! I needn't have worried though because a few minutes later it turned up again, perching on the top of a reed stem and I was able to get my first view. 

Unfortunately, the Scarce Chaser spent a lot of time facing away from the bank
so the photo angle was less than ideal

Scarce Chasers are rather an obliging species in that they like to spend a lot of time perched on the top of a reed stem waiting for something to pass by, quite unlike the Emperor that was patrolling the bank in the same general area that spent almost the entire time on the wing up and down the same stretch of the river. The Scarce Chaser would go missing for periods of time, presumably sitting somewhere out of sight, before turning up again in one of the fishing bays that are regular features along the river here.

Apart from the Scarce Chaser there was a mature Club-tailed Dragonfly knocking around that I got some brief views of, the aforementioned Emperor, a Four-spotted Chaser and the usual plethora of Banded Demoiselles. On the Damselfly front there were a few Red-eyed Damselflies on the river and some White-legged Damselflies in the bankside vegetation. This latter species was of particular interest because I'd only previously ever seen it once, in a colony up near Banbury a few years back. Whilst this species is regularly sighted along the river Thames in various places in the county, it usually only occurs in small numbers and a certain amount of effort is generally required to see them. However, by standing around waiting for the Scarce Chaser to re-appear I had the time to observe the local Damsels and eventually managed to pick out a few White-legged as they went about their business.

Red-eyed Damselfly

Female Banded Demoiselle

After a period of time the Scarce Chaser reappeared, this time perched up on a much more convenient perch and at last I was able to get some reasonable photos. 

The Scarce Chaser

I was just watching it and enjoying it in the company of IL when the second male re-appeared and the two clashed violently. They soared vertically upwards in the air as they did battle until they disappeared from view. IL chose to leave at that point but I hung around for another half an hour without seeing either of them again. Eventually I had to concede that they weren't coming back in a hurry so I ambled back to the car, finding some more White-legged Damselflies on the way. 

Female White-legged Damselfly seen on the way back to the car

Kent Chronicles

It has been a long old time since the Gnome-mobile had hit the road - indeed it was all the way back in January when I'd gone to see the American Robin. Since then I've been birding away on my local Port Meadow patch and waiting for something really good to turn up that I "needed" and which was within my driving time tolerance. In the back of my mind was also one of the last southern orchid species that I still needed namely Late Spider Orchids down in Kent - now was the perfect time to go and see them. The trouble was that whilst I quite enjoy seeing Orchids, if I'm honest they're not really my passion and I had to ask myself whether I could be bothered with a two and a half hour drive just to go and see an Orchid that looks very similar to the Early Spider Orchids that I'd already seen. What I really needed was something else in the area to make the trip more worthwhile. My prayers were answered in no uncertain terms when news broke of an Eleonora's Falcon that had been found in Kent. Initially photographed and posted to Twitter as a Hobby on Thursday it was soon re-identified as an Eleonora's. After that it was relocated the next day at Worth Marshes which it seemed to find to its liking as it stayed put, showing obscenely well to those who made the journey. Indeed as the "first twitchable"  for Britain" lots of people had gone to see it and Twitter was awash with pictures and "in the bag" messages.

Now as you know, I'm not really a drop everything on news type of twitcher. For one thing I have family commitments and I like to choose my trips carefully on distance and chances of seeing the bird etc.  However, the Eleonora's would combine very nicely with my orchid trip and at two and a half hours wasn't too much of a stretch on the driving front. What's more on Saturday an, admittedly very elusive, Sardinian Warbler had been found at South Foreland which was right between the Falcon location and the orchid one. So everything was lining up nicely! However, Saturday I had agreed to help my VLW start to clear out the loft so it wasn't until Sunday morning that I was free for a sortie. Unusually for me, I decided to get up early (by my standards) and head off rather than waiting on news. The reason for this was that with two target birds there was a high chance that at least one of them would still be around and in any event I had my orchids to fall back on. As it turned out I needn't have worried as when I got up at 6am the news was already out (posted at 4:55am no less!) that the Falcon was present, sitting in a bush waiting for things to warm up. It did this the previous day and it wasn't until about 11am that it got flying so if things played out like Saturday then I should have already seen it by then. So it was in an optimistic frame of mind that I set off at around 6:40 am on the fairly quiet Sunday morning roads on the long slog down to Kent.

En route things started to go a bit pear shaped with news of "no further sign" of the Falcon. Hmmm, that was worrying! Had the colder weather (it was much cooler today with a stiff northerly breeze) forced it to head off? Fortunately the Sardinian Warbler was about, still being elusive and "heard only" but at least still present. In the absence of the Falcon I reprogrammed Google Maps for the Warbler and continued on my journey. Indeed I was literally only 3 minutes from St. Margaret's at Cliff where I needed to park when the "still present" news came out for the Falcon. I pulled into a layby and did the maths. It was less than twenty minutes back to the Falcon so I reset Google Maps back to the Falcon and a little while later I was pulling into a well organised field car park, manned by RSPB volunteers. I tooled up, opting for my winter coat in the chilly wind, and yomped off along the footpath. After a little while I came to a small group of twitchers on the edge of a field all scoping something intently. This turned out to be the Falcon which could be viewed somewhat distantly across the far side of the field in a Hawthorn bush. It was all that easy though the views were distinctly heat hazy and distant. I set about taking some video though the haze was so bad that I won't insult you by showing it to you. After a while I realised that there were lots more twitchers on the far side of the field than were on our side. By following the footpath further round I eventually joined them where I could see why everyone was on this side. The Falcon was sitting, looking rather cold and miserable in a Hawthorn tree no more than 15 yards from the path. It didn't seem to mind the people at all even at that distance. However, as it was on the far side of its chosen Hawthorn, better views were to be had a bit further away so I settled on a more distant spot and went about my digiscoping.

A video grab when the bird was briefly actually looking up

How the bird more usually looked: head tucked away from us out of the wind

Some video of it having a preen

In addition to the star bird, there was a bonus female Red-footed Falcon to be had as well. This had been around the last couple of days and could be viewed on the other side of the path looking disconsolate in a distant Hawthorn. It was amazing to have two rare Falcons on view from the same spot!

The female Red-footed Falcon, looking cold and miserable in a distant Hawthorn

Time passed and we all waited for the star bird to fly though in the cold weather I didn't think that was going to happen in a hurry. A shout went up as a Golden Oriole flew across the path and over the wood but as I was towards the back of the footpath I never managed to get onto it. With two other targets in mind and the weather not favouring any change in the Falcon's behaviour any time soon I decided to head off again after only about an hour of paying homage to this national Mega. As I wandered back along the track I enjoyed the supporting cast of Sedge and Reed Warblers belting out there songs from the ditches. There were also some Avocets on the scrape in the same field and I'd lucked in on a fly-over Turtle Dove (a local speciality) on my way out to the Falcon viewing spot. It had been a few years since I'd last seen one of these so it was a nice bonus. 

The obligatory twitch crowd shot - the bird is in the top left-hand corner of the left hand of the two bushes 

Back at the car I set the Sat Nav back to St. Margaret's at Cliff and some twenty minutes later I found a parking spot and tooled up, asking a returning birder where to go and how he'd got on. He told me that he'd only heard it once during the entire time and no one had seen it. So it was looking like a fairly hopeless task but I thought I'd at least try to get to hear it. At the end of the main road there was an entrance through a kissing gate and then a slog up a very steep path to the top of the hill where a group of birders were all staking out a surprisingly small clump of very dense scrub. In addition to this were several medics and even an ambulance - what was going on??!! Had the strain of trying to see a Sardinian Warbler proved too much for someone? It turned out that a birder had gone over on his ankle by standing in a rabbit hole and had had to be rescued. 

After this drama I turned my attention back to the birding. There were two groups standing around on either side of the narrow clump of dense scrub and I went to join them on one side. On asking, no one had heard it for a while and no one had seen it. There were various birds flitting around in the scrub with the odd Robin, Blackbird and Goldfinch to be glimpsed as they went about their business. After a while a shout went up from the other side and we all hurried around. I'd made the mistake of bringing my scope along so had to bundle together all my gear and run after the crowd which was following a Sylvia warbler down the slope to a clump more sheltered bushes. 

In case anyone is interested in going for the bird: the yellow circle is the kissing gate; the red circle is the main scrub area; the green circle is the alternate scrub area

We all stood around in breathless expectation for a while until the bird flew out again though it turned out to be a Lesser Whitethroat. False alarm and we all trudged back up to the original area again. After quite a while once again there was a shout and this time three people had definitely seen the bird, again on the far side from where I was standing. We all piled round and peered intently at the spot where it had been seen. The trouble was that the bird was staying deep within the cover and just because someone had got lucky on a particular angle didn't mean that the bird would necessarily pass through that small window again any time soon. I moved slightly and changed my viewing angle to watch another area. After a while I was rewarded with the briefest of views of something the right shape and colour (a very deep grey) flitting past a gap before disappearing again. Could that have been it? Everything that I'd seen seemed to match up OK but it was frustratingly brief.

The Warbler bushes - most people had stopped trying by this stage. At a peak there were more than twenty people there

More time passed. Someone tried some playback and at one point it was heard to call back though frustratingly I didn't hear it myself. After all this time I'd just had the one brief "probable" glimpse to show for my efforts. It was well past the two hours I'd given myself to try to see this skulking so and so and people were just lounging around chatting when the bird was heard again to call very loudly from the seaward side of the upper path in an adjacent bit of scrub. We all hurried over there and the bird called and sang loudly right in front of us a number of times deep in the bushes. Surely it was going to show itself now? A cry went up as the bird apparently broke cover and darted back to the other side of the path, back in the original area. Frustratingly I was looking the wrong way when this happened so never saw it fly. I hung around for a bit longer but by now everyone was chatting away and not bothering to look and I really had run out of time so I had to head back to the car. Still, I'd heard it well enough and had had one brief glimpse of what was almost certainly it. I could count this as a definite heard-only accompanied by a "probable" glimpse. The bottom line was that even if I'd seen it break cover the view would have been so crap that I would still want to see another one when the opportunity presented itself. So for now it's going down on the list as heard-only and I'll take an opportunity to firm this up at some point in the future.

Back in the car and I headed off for the 30 minute drive toward where I'd been given a location for Late Spider Orchids. Shortly into this leg of the journey the heavens opened up and indeed it was still raining by the time I was parking up in a tiny little layby and getting ready. So it was on with the waterproof trousers as I headed off along the path a short distance to where I'd been told the orchids were located. They were in a fenced off area with one "sacrificial" one left outside the fence for photographs. It rather looked like several people had not seen the exterior one as it was looking rather trampled. Still, as the rain finally stopped I set about taking some photos. I was pleasantly surprised to see some Man Orchids within the fenced off area as well - I'd not know about those though Kent is a well know county for them.

I was able to reach carefully through the electrified fence to get close enough to take a photo of this Late Spider Orchid

The super-zoomed shots came out OK as well

A clump of Man Orchids within the fenced off area

The one Man Orchid outside the fenced-off area

An early Pyramidal Orchid

After having taken the best photos that I could manage given the distance that the fence created, I walked a short distance further along the path to see if I could find any other orchids of my own. There were a few Pyramidal Orchids just coming out, a couple of Common Spotted Orchids and I even found one Man Orchid on its own outside the fence. All in all it was a very pleasant way to end what had been quite a busy day. A Yellowhammer serenaded me as I walked contentedly back to the car where I de-tooled, had some tea from my flask and then pointed the car in the direction of home. The traffic on the M25 was a bit stop-start but I arrived back at Casa Gnome in time for my usual celebratory cup of tea before dinner. It had been a grand day out with three shiny new ticks - what more could anyone ask for?

Eastbourne American Robin

This week Twitter and the blogosphere have been awash with pictures and stories about the star American Robin that was found late on Tuesday afternoon in a rather unlikely suburban location on the outskirts of Eastbourne in East Sussex. There was good reason for such intense interest: there have only been 28 previous records in total and the last mainland twitchable one was down in Devon on the Exminster Marshes all the way back in 2010. So a proper Mega then! Certainly it was something that I'd not seen previously and as it was only about two and a half hours drive away it fullfilled all my criteria for a day out. 

Whilst really hardcore twitchers were going to be there at first light the next day, I generally like to wait a little while for the crowds to die down a bit. Not that I was in position to drop anything anyway: I had a full-time job to do so it was either a matter of waiting until the weekend or I would have to arrange a day off which would require at least some reasonable notice for my manager. In the end I decided that the first weekend after discovery would be far too crowded so opted for taking Friday off instead and to head off on news. The latter dropped just after 7 a.m. and I was off by 8. The journey there took pretty much the predicted two and a half hours though the last bit from Brighton onwards was longer and more tedious than I had expected. Still I passed the time in the company of Radio 4 and at around 10:30 I found myself turning off into some rather narrow sideroads that lead up the hill towards the aptly named Hill Road. I parked up at some distance from the main twitch location and hurried towards the assembled crowd. 

Staking out a berry bush (off screen on the right)

There were about forty birders present in the end area of the cul-de-sac by the garages. Judging by the relaxed atmosphere the bird currently wasn't on show which was soon confirmed on asking a fellow twitcher. There seemed to be two groups of photographers camped out in front of some likely looking berry bushes so I set myself up by the further group and looked around me. The surrounding houses were nestled tightly on the rather steep hillside and surrounded on two sides by woodland. With not a breath of wind and surprisingly strong sunshine it was a truly lovely day, altogether different from what I had been expecting that morning when I was preparing. In fact I was beginning to wish that had put some sun cream on!

The garages with one berry bush on the left-hand end

One of the key themes of the day was about reading the crowd. I soon noticed that the photographers near me had suddenly gone into alert mode and were staring intently at the bush in front of us, fortunately the one that I had chosen to stand near to. After initially just seeing some movement from deep within, suddenly our star bird came out into the open on the bush and started eating the berries. This was a cue for some frenzied papping and I duly joined in with my superzoom, managing some shots that, as a blogger rather than a photographer, I was more than happy with. 

Yet more American Robin photos - just what the internet needs!

After a little while the bird flew off a short distance and dropped down behind the garages out of sight. A few minutes later and it flew low across the road down into a small garden just on the edge of the garage area where the ground sloped down steeply to a heavily laden berry bush. Birders near to this area soon crowded around the fence, peering in and trying to get a view. I had a brief peep but it was too crowded for my taste and the views were so poor that there seemed little point in making an effort. So instead I went back to the main square and waiting to see where it would go next. 

After some twenty minutes or so it flew low over us all and out onto the steep slopes beyond the houses. Here there was a small clump of trees and bushes including a single tall bare tree that I recognised from internet photos. However, rather than sitting there the bird instead dropped onto the ground and out of sight. There then followed a long period of frustrating waiting for it to show. It was periodically on view for some people at some angles. Again, it was a question of reading the crowd and I soon spotted that a couple of people down at the end of a side path could see it so I joined them, gaining some brief views of it on the ground through some branches before it moved too much for the angle to work any more. After that there was a long period of not seeing it at all.

The kind of obscured view that you more often associate with a crippling mega
rather than the previous porn shots

Time passed and gradually numbers swelled as more people arrived and the lack of recent decent views meant that fewer people were leaving. PL, a fellow Oxon birder, turned up. I'd been half expecting him today: we tend to have similar twitching criteria and need the same species so we often meet up on twitches. I brought him up to speed on events and fortunately within a few minutes of his arrival I again noticed that some people seemed to be on it. I picked it out on the ground in the field in a large gap to the right of the main bushes where it was working its was to the right and I managed to get PL onto it. After that, from watching the crowd it was periodically showing at certain angles but I didn't see it again. Not that I minded: I'd had crippling views to start with plus a number of "record shot views" to follow and felt it was time to move on.

Anyone who has been following the multitude of Eastbourne blog posts will no doubt already know about what else was on offer. There was of course the long-staying Hume's Warbler down on the seafront which was next on my itinary. I'd only ever seen one Hume's before, in November 2011 at Wyke Regis in Dorset where I'd managed to rock up on the way back from Cornwall and see it within a few minutes of arriving. So there was no pressure on this next target but it would still be nice to see as I am very partial to a nice phyllosc. I duly programmed up the Sat Nav and after a hiccup where it secretly changed the destination (I have to figure out why Google Maps does this occasionally) I turned up at the right spot and found a parking space right opposite the twitch. The last RBA instructions had said that it was along the lower promenade on the sea front but clearly the line of birders up one side of a small park-like square said otherwise and I hurried to join them in staring up at the canopy of some Holme Oaks. There I met NT (another Oxon birder) and his wife who told me that it was feeding along this side but was only giving occasional glimpses.

The Hume's twitch. Numbers more than doubled during the time I was there

Once again it was a question of reading the other birders to see where it was. The two birders at the top of the side road seemed to be raising their bins most frequently though often I could barely even see the movement that they were homing in on. It was certainly tough going. After some 15 minutes or so the bird popped out briefly at the top of the tree and I got some brief flight views though to be honest I couldn't tell it was a Hume's from what I'd seen. Then a little while later the top two birders seemed to be seeing something again so I moved up to join them. This proved to be well timed as shortly afterwards the bird worked its way onto a small branch "peninsular" that stuck out from the main canopy, though still feeding on the hidden far side. Suddenly, up it popped in full view and side on and I was able to appreciate it in all its glory for a couple of seconds before it was off again. I wasn't going to get any better views so wandered back to the car where I got out my lunch. I then sat on a bench in the glorious sunshine and munched contentedly.

There was one more target bird to see which came in the unlikely form of a long-staying Hooded Crow at Polegate services at the start of the A22. When I had mentioned this to PL back at the American Robin he told me that he'd not seen a Hoodie in the UK at all as he hasn't birded Scotland so I told him I would let him know how I got on. I arrived at the services and parked up right at the far end away from the deafening roar of the traffic: this certainly wasn't the nicest of birding locations that I'd been to. I had been hoping to find it on one of the roof tops but in the company of a couple of other hopeful birders, there was no sign of it. We wandered out to the main roundabout hoping to see it in the trees but without success. The other two turned back but I walked a little further on before spotting it sitting on top of a lamppost along the main road. I yelled out to the other two but such was the noise that I had to run back to tell them. By the time we got back it had flown off so they went back again only for me to find it again in a tree a little way beyond the far side of the road so I had to run back once more to fetch them back. They then spotted a side path that went down to a service road that ran under the main road and right past where the crow was which we duly took. A couple of minutes later we were able to get much better views more or less opposite the bird. I took a few photos but where I was standing was in deep shade and out of the sunshine it was cold so I didn't linger. I've seen plenty of Hoodies before in Scotland as well as a few in Cornwall so it wasn't that big a deal for me.

Hooded Crow

I had already messaged the news to PL when I'd first seen it and just as I was heading back to the car he turned up. So I took him back to the spot and showed him where it was so he could tick it before heading back to the car again. There were a few other birders loitering where I'd parked so I told them all where it was as well and then was finally able to get into the car and head off on my journey home.

I'd like to say that the journey back was uneventful but sadly the Friday afternoon traffic had other ideas. Firstly I chose to go on the A22 rather than the A27 in order to avoid the roadworks there. This would have taken the same time except for a road closure which forced a minor diversion around some admittedly rather pretty villages off the main road. I was soon back on track though my Sat Nav ETA kept rising as the M25 ahead of me started to clog up. Whilst crawling along the M25 itself and as yet another jam blocked things up ahead, I was offered a faster alternative route so found myself weaving my way around Wraysbury GPs to the M4 and then up the A404 before finally reaching the M40 and Oxford, arriving some half an hour after my original predicted time. Still I didn't mind: I'd had a great day out with a shiny new national lifer and two very nice bonus birds in some beautiful weather. Who could ask for more?

County Birding: Divers, Ducks and a County First!

I've got three local county outings that I thought I would amalgamate into a single blog post. One of them was a county first that mobilised the entire Oxon birding community en masse but we'll come to that in a while.

Diver

My first outing was a trip to Farmoor a few weekends back to pay homage to the long staying juvenile Great Northern Diver that is spending the winter there. This bird has been around for a while now and clearly is finding it to its liking. There have been countless photos of it dismembering the invasive Signal Crayfish that are so prolific in our waters these days. On the day that I went it was right in the far north west corner of F1 and despite trying to see it from across the other side, it was only when I actually walked all the way around that I was able to find it. The light was very overcast by then so my record shots have come out rather monotonic but still it was very nice to see such a smart and impressive bird comparatively close up and looking so relaxed and at home.

The over-wintering juvenile Great Norther Diver

County First!

The next outing took place a couple of weeks ago. News broke late one afternoon of a Pallas' Warbler that had been found at Abingdon sewage works by GB. The back of camera shots were suitably gripping and whilst the news broke too late for me to contemplate a twitch I understand that a couple of people did actually manage it in the 30 minute window before dusk. 

Pallas' Warbler are usually found on the east coast in autumn and inland birds are very rare. I remember twitching my first one in Berkshire back in 2013 when one over-wintered along a river on the Berkshire/Hampshire border. Since then, I have seen three more: Cornwall (self-found!), Spurn (briefly) and Norfolk (fantastic views at Thornham) so in terms of my national listing this was not particularly important. However, in terms of Oxon listing there was no doubting the significance of this find as it was a county first. This meant that all the serious county twitchers were going to be there the next day and naturally enough I was going to try to see it too. 

Overnight it was ridiculously cold, going down to a freezing -5 degrees. This made me wonder whether being there at first light was actually the best tactic or whether to wait a little bit until things warmed up a little might not be better. So in the end I rocked up at the sewage works at a little after 9 a.m. to find the great and the good of the county birding world all assembled already: they'd all been there since first light of course, being proper hardcore twitchers. Still it hadn't done them any good as there'd been no sign of it so far. In fact it had just got to the stage where intense concentration in looking for the target was starting to wane and was giving way to aimiable chatting instead. It was quite something to see everyone all there together. Since the pandemic there hadn't been a chance for any social gatherings in the Oxon birding world so for many this was a good chance for a long overdue catch up.

Having come a bit later I was still quite keen and diligently searched along the northern boundary of the treatment works for the target bird. There were plenty of Chiffchaffs about and one or two Goldcrest which would get the pulse racing until the head was seen properly but not our much sought after county first. After about 30 minutes of this a shout went up to the west. We all knew what this meant and as one we hurried to investigate. It turned out that PR had seen it briefly in a more wooded area off to the north west of the works. We all spread out looking and a minute or two later PR had it again in a tree next to the path. We all converged on the spot and sure enough there it was, zipping about high up in an Alder tree. It was hard to pin down as it was very active but I managed to see it well enough to be sure of what I was looking at. We then all followed it for several minutes as it worked its way through the tree tops before it went deeper into the wood and was lost to view.

After that, the atmosphere relaxed noticeably. There was a lot of chatting and mutual back slapping and comparing back of camera photos from those that had managed to get off a shot. The crowd also began to disperse, with some of those who'd been there since first light starting to head off home. A few late comers arrived to find that always difficult twitching situation where everyone there has seen it well and is no longer looking and you're left trying to refind it on your own. For myself, having arrived a bit later and having seen the bird comparatively quickly I was in no particular hurry to leave. I wandered back to the main sewage work area for a bit to take a look at the Siberian Chiffchaffs which tended to hang out at this area. They see to be faithful to a small area next to the concrete treatment rings and I saw them well enough. I then helped some of the late arrivals to look for the bird again but without any success. Eventually hunger started to get the better of me and I headed back for home with a shiny new county tick to my name.

Some of the lingering twitchers watching the Siberian Chiffies

 

A couple of stunning photos of the Pallas' Warbler taken a few days later, courtesy of Roger Wyatt

A couple of Siberian Chiffchaff photos courtesy of Roger Wyatt

 

Pallas' Revisited and a Duck

As everyone suspected, the Pallas' stuck around. Having located the insect oasis that is the sewage works, there was really no where else for it to go. It was onto a good thing for an over-wintering insect eating bird and anywhere else would probably not sustain it. It was reported every day since as various people, local and national came to pay homage. A week or so later I went back for seconds one Saturday afternoon. There in the company of less than ten people I had regular glimpses of it as it worked its way along the trees and hedges of the narrow wooded strip north of the sewage works. The views were never crippling but I managed some nice pale lemon rump views which are always very pleasing.

I didn't stay too long as the views were unlikely to get better and there was no point in attempting a photo given the distances, the gloomy light and how comparatively elusive the bird was. Instead I chose to nip over to Thrupp lake nearby at Radley to see the drake Ring-necked Duck. It was immediately on view though somewhat distant. I busied myself with trying to photograph it but given the circumstances it was always just going to be a record shot. Also present on the lake were seven Red-crested Pochard, a species that I don't happen to see that often. There is a bit of a glut of RND's nationally at the moment and it's nice to see that Oxfordshire is getting in on this action. Indeed just in Oxon, apart from this bird there is a lingering female at Appleford GPs which is being seen from time to time.

A photo of the distant Ring-necked Duck

All in all, it has been a great start to the county birding year. A county first like that is almost certainly a shoe in for the county bird of the year unless something even rarer turns up. Still you never know!