Eastern Subalpine Warbler at Beachy Head

I've seen four Subalpine Warblers over the years, all of them down in Cornwall. Two were males and two were female types. Back in the day they were just Subalpine Warblers before being split into three distinct species: Western, Eastern and Moltoni's. Western (Sylvia iberiae), as it's Latin name suggests, is to be found in the summer on the Iberian peninsula and in southern France. Eastern (S. cantilans) summers in Italy and further east. Moltoni's (S. subalpina) is located in a small pocket in northern Italy and some of the Italian islands. Now my two male Cornish birds were both Westerns which meant that I still needed Eastern and Moltoni's. So when an Eastern turned up at Beachy Head and stuck around it was firmly on my radar of interest. Reports of it singing and seemingly being on territory were highly encouraging but due to a variety of things going on at Casa Gnome it wasn't until the weekend that I was going to be free to have a crack at it. Given reports of the bird showing best early in the morning, I decided on my tried and trusted tactic of heading up the previous night and AirBnB'ing it so I could be on site early after (hopefully) a good night's sleep. So it was that on Friday afternoon I hastily booked a room and then headed off after dinner on the familiar route down to Eastbourne. As I drove I thought back to past twitches here: the successful American Robin twitch back in February 2022 and the only partially successful Radde's Warbler trip in October 2022 where, in very windy conditions, I heard it but never saw it. Hopefully this trip would be fully successful - certainly reports I'd seen on-line seemed to indicate that if the bird was still there then there was a high chance of connecting.

At the AirBnB I had hoped to be up and away really early but I was awake for part of the night before falling back to sleep so in the end I wasn't out the door much before 7am. As I left, I tried to lock the house door behind me as my host had requested but the keys somehow wouldn't fit in the lock so I left them just inside and messaged my host to this effect. I had carefully chosen my AirBnB to be on the right side of the town for Beachy Head so it was only a 10 minute drive before I was parking up at the Beachy Head Visitor Centre (which was closed at this time of day). Here I tooled up and, noting the chilly wind, opted for my winter coat. As I was putting away my car keys in my zip up trouser pockets I noticed that I seemed to have the AirBnB keys in my pocket rather than my own house keys. At this point the penny dropped that I'd clearly tried to lock the AirBnB front door with my own house keys and in my sleep befuddled state had left them there! Doh! I messaged the host again saying I'd drop her keys back off in a few hours after my (hopefully) successful twitch. Then it was on with my walking boots and my bins; as it was a warbler there was no need for a scope. I was soon yomping off down the unfeasibly steep grassy chalk downland slope that lead to the top of the chalk cliffs where the bird was hopefully still located.

I arrived to find just three other birders present. Having done my usual pre trip research I had a pin drop from Bird Guides that seemed to indicate that the bird was to be seen just below the cliff top along a short path down the cliff side to a small plateau some 20 feet or so below the cliff top. The other birders were at the top of the cliff but I elected to go down the track to the plateau to view the relatively small area of scrub in front of it and one of the birders decided to come with me at this point. Fairly soon after we heard our target bird sing briefly and I had the briefest of views as it dropped into the scrub before disappearing completely. My companion turned out to be a fellow blogger and, after striking up a conversation we more or less stuck together for the duration of the trip. He had a camera so I've used some of his photos to illustrate this post - you can see his blog post here. From trip reports of previous days, these brief glimpses was probably what was to be expected in terms of the quality of views. 

The "upper plateau" where brief glimpses of the bird were initially obtained

More birders arrived and a few more views were had as it buzzed back and forward along this relatively narrow section of the upper plateau. A singing Black Redstart was an interesting bonus - not a song I was familiar with though my companion ID'd it using Merlin. After a while a couple of birders who had been up on the cliff top hurried past us saying that the bird was now right at the bottom of the cliff and showing well. After some debate my companion and I decided to follow. We were half way down the path when we saw these two birders at the bottom looking intently at something and hey presto, there was our target bird in all its Subalpiney glory showing really well though somewhat backlit. We soaked up our first decent views of this exotic continental warbler as it sat right out in the open on top of a bush.

Our first (backlit) views. All bird photos courtesy of Paul Evans

This was all the incentive we needed and we hurried down to the bottom of the cliff where I was able to get a much better idea of the topography. From here I could see that the upper plateau was actually largely made up of the tops of small trees and scrub that were growing up a steep slope that lead down to the much larger lower plateau where we now standing. Actually "plateau" is a bit of a misnomer as it was still sloping though not nearly as steep as the cliff face itself. It was a large area with some deep hollows, with lots of deep cover for a wandering warbler to happily feed in. What's more, the sun was now behind us so viewing conditions were much better. Down here, it turned out that rather than offering brief glimpses every 20 minutes or so, it was instead "porning it". We would see it every few minutes or so when it would often pose quite well, though it was constantly on the move so my companion's photographic efforts were a bit hit and miss. Happily he managed to captured it well in the end. I knew that the way the bird was moving would be no match for my clunky superzoom camera so I didn't even bother trying. 

We happily followed it as it moved over a fairly large area down at the bottom, sometimes venturing as far as the lower cliff face that lead up to the upper plateau where we had been originally standing. It did rather make me wonder whether it had actually been showing well down here all along and the brief glimpses that people had obtained in previous days might have been the rare occasions when it ventured up to the top area. Who knows? 

Down at the bottom, looking back up the cliff - the "upper plateau" is the green area just below the top white cliff. The bird roamed widely over this lower plateau area

I spent my time enjoying regular views of the target bird, soaking up the warm sunshine and generally feeling at peace with the world. It would sing from time time to time or make its call so we could often keep track of it as it worked its way around the lower undercliff. Also present were some Whitethroats, a pair of Lesser Whitethroats and various other bird bits and bobs such as Wrens and Dunnocks. Given the nice weather I did keep half an eye on the sky for any incoming Honey Buzzards though my main focus was on the undercliff scrub area and it was hard to look at both of them at the same time. On the sea there were a few seals dotted around and various gulls were flying about. It was all very pleasant.

  

Birders who braved the scramble down were able to get excellent views

Eventually I felt that I had had my fill and it was time to face the scramble back up the path to the cliff top and then the endurance test which was the long slog back up the steep grassy slope to the top of the hill where the car was parked. I'm used to scrambling and have done a fair bit of hill walking over the years but the grassy slope was brutal - my thighs ached for three days afterwards!
 

On the way back up - showing the topography

I found this Dingy Skipper on the way back up the cliff

Then it was back to the Gnome mobile where I de-tooled and drove back to the AirBnB to swap over the keys. After that it was time to set the Sat Nav co-ordinates back for home. Unfortunately some horrendous traffic jams on the way home added about an hour to my journey time but as my trip had already been a success I didn't really mind. Instead I basked in the warm glow of another successful outing and another shiny new tick on my list.

 

 

 

Black-winged Stilt at RSPB Otmoor

Back in the day, Black-winged Stilt was a real rarity. I remember twitching my first ones back in May 2011 down at St Gothian Sands NR in Cornwall on one of my trips down there. My first Oxon ones were back in 2012 at Pit 60 in Standlake. I remember dashing down there with great excitment for what was a real county blocker back then for the relatively new county birders such as myself. There wasn't another one until May 2023 when one turned up at Otmoor as part of the bonkers county spring purple patch. I duly went to pay homage - there's something altogether exotic about a Stilt that it's always worth the effort. 

So when Max Buckley found one in April of this year, it would have been rude not to go and take a look. In fact I went the morning that it had been found on a rather blustery and overcast day. As the bird was on Big Otmoor I parked up at the Noke end in order to walk in from that end. As I was parking up I met SM who told me that the bird was very hard to see on the ground and was usually seen in flight. "Hmmm" I thought, "maybe this won't be the quick and easy visit I was hoping for". Still I was there now and headed off towards the bridleway that runs along the southern edge of Big Otmoor hoping that I would be rewarded for my effort.

Once there, I soon discovered that actually I was feeling a bit under the weather with what felt like the ominous onset of a cold brewing. There was indeed no sign of the Stilt with just some rather cold looking younger birders standing around wondering what to do. BM and AS were also there but no one knew where to look. In the end, rather than just standing around in the cold I decided to work my way eastwards along the bridleway, stopping and scanning at every gap in the hedge that afforded a viewing spot.

I had almost reached the eastern end of the Big Otmoor when I managed to find it by scanning diagonally from the south east corner of Big Otmoor (where it was a little bit higher) all the way across to the north west corner. There it was, picking its way over a marshy vegetated area in all its Stilty glory. I put the news out and headed back to the western end now that I knew where to look. En route I picked up BM and AS again and eventually we managed to see it from the western end though it took a surprisingly long period of time before we could all get on it as there were so many hollows and dips that the bird would often be completely hidden. Still it looked very exotic in amongst the drab greens and browns of the marshy habitat, and well worth the effort it took actually to see it. 

The Black-winged Stilt courtesy of the original finder, Max Buckley

In the end it stayed for about a week, usually distant and partially hidden except for one afternoon when it showed well on the new Noke Pool. I expect they will become more common in this county in the coming years which can only be a good thing.

The Stilt on Noke Pool courtesy of Thomas Miller