Having been pleased to add Blyth’s Pipit to my life list four days ago, I decided also to have a look at this very similar bird. I went to a site by the Severn estuary just to the south-west of Gloucester with a vague idea of assessing how much difference I could detect between the two. But my prime motivation was just being out and about, not too far from home (66 miles) on what was a beautiful, clear mid-winter’s day.

Arriving mid-morning and parking short of some farm buildings (SO709119) I set off along a right of way through a muddy farm yard then onward to a flood defence embankment. Being alone, finding the bird seemed like a challenge and Meadow Pipits began to fly up from either side of the earthwork that I hoped would be a harbinger of something scarcer. Before me stretched a restful landscape of subtle purple, ochre and green hues (pictured below) all in a hazy light. It was low tide. Here and there busy little Stonechat adorned fence posts and wires, while more commonplace Chaffinch and Dunnock went about their own business.

The Severn estuary at Arlingham

And so I took a little time to luxuriate in being somewhere new, different and this pleasant. The directions on RBA cited a narrow rough field in which was a mistletoe covered hawthorn. This (below) looked like the spot and there ahead of me were three more birders clearly observing something in the greener area between me and themselves. Scanning to where the right hand person was looking I found a bird of the right shape and jizz. Not such a challenge after all then!

The Richard’s Pipit site

The other birders now walked on ahead of me and I followed. As I caught up with them a bird went up out of long grass and over our heads, emitting a rasping chree-up call. This was definitely not a Mipit but indeed my bird for today. The call of Richard’s Pipit is also a key indicator, since upon referral to my favoured Helm guide I find that Blyth’s has several quieter and softer ones. The RP then settled briefly to the landward side of the flood defence, before crossing over and feeding in the short-cropped green area.

Now we crept up on the blind side of the embankment, before peeping over the top and watching the bird moving slowly away. The feeding action at once struck me as being less energetic than last Thursday’s Blyth’s. As I had recalled from my two previous sightings of Richard’s, today’s bird appeared a little darker-toned and the likewise reddish legs seemed of less super model proportions. The record images (below) do not reveal too much, but as always show at least that I am not making this story up. For a good one captured at a later date see here.

Richard’s Ppit

I then walked away to put the sighting on RBA and when I re-joined my companions they said the Pipit had moved into longer grass along the river’s edge. It remained out of sight for around 30 minutes before reappearing some distance towards the farm buildings. That was the direction in which I needed to head, and so I began to walk back. The RP was now keeping to the far side of the green area and it could have been a long wait for the bird to come closer for a decent photograph. And so, with things still to do at home I left.

So just how much variation could I detect between these two larger, wintering Pipits? I will not attempt to go into plumage topography since I am not knowledgeable enough to do so and in any case that bores me. But I have to agree with the Helm guide’s assertion that in the absence of obvious diagnostics the two just appear distinctly different in the field. The most important thing of all was that my third Richard’s Pipit had cleansed my weary dark-season soul a little by giving purpose to a quite refreshing morning out.

When this bird was identified last Monday five days after first being found, I at once recognised an exceptional opportunity to gain a difficult lifer. When any British mainland Blyth’s Pipit has appeared on RBA in the past it always seemed like a tricky species even to get sight of never mind distinguish from the very similar Richard’s Pipit, indeed citations are often qualified by the word “probable”. But this individual had been showing well on open ground around a lake shore near Bristol all this week prior to my visit on a fine winter’s day today.

Since the first modern British record of Blyth’s Pipit in 1988, this rare vagrant from eastern Asia has become increasingly regular in late autumn, with a few lingering into winter. But most of these are encountered in the Hebrides and Scillies where I have never been. The majority of large Pipits seen after early October are the Siberian breeder Richard’s Pipit that averages around 120 a year. I have observed the latter twice at Weymouth, Dorset (Jan 2012) and on Portugal’s Sagres peninsula (Jan 2014).

Blagdon Lake

Blagdon Lake (ST508595), at the northern edge of the Mendip Hills, is managed by Bristol Water primarily as a private fishing facility, but bird watching is accommodated for permit holders. Access is currently allowed for visitors wishing to see this rarity. Around 11:30am I arrived at the fishing lodge car park (as instructed on RBA) to find very few cars and fewer birders. The consensus amongst a confused smattering of us was to walk east along the lake’s perimeter road and see what we found. Then birders driving back the other way let us know that vehicle access had been opened up closer to the area that the Pipit favoured.

On relocating to a spot known as “Green Lawn” birders were dispersing and I was told the BP had just flown to an area east of the trees (pictured below). There were three locations at the eastern and of the lake that it commuted between in company with several Meadow Pipits. So I walked on and fortunately found myself in company with two very knowledgeable and helpful volunteer wardens who quickly put myself and others onto our quest. With the tick gained that familiar surge of relief known to all birders swept through me and it was then possible to relax and enjoy. And this little number performed very well.

Blagdon Lake on a perfect winter’s day

The Helm guide to confusion species describes Blyth’s rather aptly as exhibiting few diagnostic features but “a host of minor differences that create the impression of something distinctly different”. Having had the benefit of watching this bird for a few days, the wardens described all those nuances as the first winter Pipit moved ever closer along the shore. I will not go into detail but to me it stood out amongst the Mipits for being much more long-legged with an upright stance. It had an energetic feeding action, often raising or tilting its head to one side when the smallish bill became apparent. Something different indeed! Eventually all the Pipits flew back to Green Lawn where I captured a record shot (below) that shows the bird’s generally buffy hue and long reddish legs.

Blyth’s Pipit

On this twitch I was struck by the very welcoming outlook of local birders who were helping visitors to get onto the rarity. One of them said this was the biggest gathering so far this week, and save for an inevitable person with a camera trying to get far too close everything was conducted in a good spirit. I also met bird warden Nigel Milbourne who publishes the Blagdon Lake web site (see here), and would like to express here my appreciation for his efforts in putting information out and negotiating visitor access with Bristol Water. Mission accomplished and with the great assistance of these true birding colleagues a rather difficult lifer in the bag.

When news broke on Sunday of a Siberian breeding Thrush in the Peak District national park it was not to be missed. Collins lists seven Asian Thrushes that occur as stragglers in western Europe through autumn and winter. Like the star passerines that enlivened England’s north-east cost during October they really ought to migrate the other way into south-east Asia, and I myself had yet to see any of them until now.

I believe some of these and other native European Thrushes are known affectionately to some birders as “The Turds” due to their Latin genus name of Turdus. Today’s Dusky Thrush Turdus eunomus is the same shape as a Song Thrush and a little larger than a Redwing with attractive variegated patterning. As if to demonstrate how very many rare migrants must go undetected in usually unwatched areas, this individual had apparently been present in the village of Beeley, just inside the national park boundary for around two weeks. Then a local resident photographed it, word got out and a major twitch ensued.

I had spent a perfect sunny winter’s Sunday scouring local woodlands for Crossbill that is still missing from the 2016 Oxon year list that local form dictates I do not admit to keeping. The result was mild dark season depression. Walking the south Oxon downs hoping to cross paths with a Merlin recently had produced the same effect and the prospect of starting all over again in January really doesn’t enthral me. Drifting lethargically into the new week, upon seeing a lifer’s presence confirmed 137 miles from home I searched online for local accommodation, found a last minute room in a well-rated B&B for £45 and booked it straight away. Having made that decision, with the prospect of hitting the road and a new bird to see, I felt alive again.

After Monday afternoon at the charity shop where I volunteer, I set off northwards at 6:30pm. Yes there is life after 5 o’clock in mid-winter, and propelled along by the best driving at night sound in the world ever (that’s another Slash reference) I soon found myself on the M1 motorway north of Leicester. It was a pleasant and uneventful run and around 9pm I drew up at my B&B in a very frosty Matlock. Checking RBA at breakfast the Dusky Thrush was reported early. I arrived on site at 8:50am to a very well-organised twitch, with coffee, bacon sandwiches and toilet facilities all laid on by Beeley’s Duke’s Barn outdoor activity centre (a registered charity) where I got the last parking space and made a donation.

The Dusky Thrush is in the apple tree (centre)

Local birders who were stewarding the event confirmed the instruction on RBA that the bird could be looked for in an orchard from behind one of the centre’s barns. I walked around that building to find a large group of visitors all crammed into a rather cramped and obstructed viewing area. The picture above gives the general impression. This struck me at once as a gathering of seasoned, traditional birders as belied by the near absence of big camera lenses. Proper field etiquette was being observed that included not talking loudly until the bird has been seen, and everyone just watched and waited patiently.

Things didn’t take too long. After 20 minutes the Dusky Thrush, a first-winter probable female was located in dense tree cover at one end of the orchard and a certain amount of jostling and getting in one another’s way ensued. That was inevitable in the circumstances and guess what, I was one of those who could not get on to the bird. But then the DT moved left to feed in one then another apple tree, revealing all it’s subtle plumage detail. To me it resembled a rather pale Redwing with a broad and prominent supercilium. This superb image (here) on RBA shows exactly how I too saw the bird, so it was just as well there were one or two big lenses present after all. For the full RBA gallery of this bird see here.

Dusky Thrush (fem)

I had stepped up onto a boardwalk behind the watching group and concentrated on watching the Thrush rather than trying to get pictures myself. The above image is the best record I could manage. All this lasted for around 10 minutes then at 9:20 the bird flew off into the village. Much of the crowd now dispersed but I elected to hang around for a while and hope for a better photo opportunity. I began chatting to two nearby birders about our earlier sighting and new arrivals nearby told us to be quiet. Well, I can’t have it both ways! Occasionally over the next hour people would claim obstructed views but the DT did not show well again in that time.

By 10:30, mindful of the need to head back to work early in foggy conditions, I went for a wander around the village. Birders and their cars were now everywhere, possibly to the annoyance of local residents and play group mums. Well that’s poetic justice, but if I’m referring to parents of disabled children using the centre I withdraw the sentiment of course. There was no way the Duke’s Barn car park alone could have contained such an influx as had been instructed on RBA. Everyone was searching for the DT, apparently with little success. The bird was seen a few more times later in the day but I had been party to it’s best showing.

I have been wondering where new birds to see might come from this winter, and it more or less has to be something new to fire my imagination currently. Then, yesterday as if to illustrate that rarities will always turn up, an Atlantic storm named Angus blew in this thing of beauty.

On getting home late afternoon from a working Saturday, the day’s highlight on RBA was a vagrant north American Forster’s Tern 130 miles from Oxford. This is the first in Britain since 2003, though the species has been a regular winter visitor to Ireland in the 13-year interim. The usual wintering grounds for this marsh dwelling Tern are southern coasts of the USA and Mexico. I decided that if still present in the morning I would probably go for the lifer.

Upon beholding an image (see here) on Sunday morning my mind was made up. What a subtle, understated gem! A first-winter bird it is slightly larger than a Common Tern with a black bill, dull orange legs and most strikingly a black ear covert patch beneath a pale grey crown. It had been observed between 1 and 4pm from Mistley Quay (TM117321) on the Stour estuary, and reports all stated “showing well”.

Mistley Quay

I arrived in Mistley at just after 2pm to find a long line of parked cars to one side of the town’s landmark 18th century church towers. A man I parked next to advised me to walk past that monument to the quay where the FT had last been seen around 45 minutes previously. There was quite a concentration of birders there (pictured above), as I had expected for what was the day’s top English draw. This being a mega second ever for Essex, county listers were of course out in force. People told me the FT followed a routine of flying west along the estuary then back east, and everyone present expected it to come round again soon.

The quay edge was topped by a steel mesh fence that is a local bone of contention (see here). Having had my fill of such obstructions when observing the Easington Siberian Accentor last month, I walked past restricted access signs under apparent threat of prosecution to where a small group were also seeking a clearer view. Nobody stopped us. Amongst them was fellow Oxon birder Terry Sherlock. I usually expect to run into one or more of the county’s finest on these occasions, and learned that Andy had also been and gone earlier.

It was now a matter of waiting patiently for the Forster’s Tern to do another circuit. Time passed and on checking RBA Terry found the bird had not been reported from further east, while a “no further sign” had been posted from Mistley. It always irritates me when people see fit to do the latter because they cannot be bothered to stick things out. And as someone nearby commented: “At this time of year, when the Tern does come along we won’t have to work out which one it is!”

Forster’s Tern from Mistley Quay

So we continued to watch and wait. A high tide roost of Black-tailed Godwit just offshore offered a pleasing diversion, while Turnstone, Shelduck and Goldeneye provided further interest out on the estuary. After around an hour on site myself the Forster’s Tern was called approaching from the east, then it proceeded to do what had been described earlier, circling the area before the quay and plunge diving for fish at intervals. The diagnostics from yesterday’s RBA gallery image are just about discernible in my own photo above.

This fly past provided good views for all the assembled birders who then quickly dispersed back to the warmth of their vehicles. As I walked to my car more people were still arriving and also watching the estuary from points further west. This is my own 330th bird in Britain that has provided an attractive and satisfying first addition for my winter national season.

On this damp and grey day of the new dark season the occurrence of some scarce wildfowl in a Milton Keynes public park offered a suitable diversion. Having risen late following successive evening shifts, my attention was caught on RBA by two Velvet Scoter just 40 miles or so from home in neighbouring Bucks. Such a bijou twitchette would fill the remaining hours of daylight nicely and so I jumped at the opportunity.

I have observed this sea duck twice previously, on the Solent near Titchfield Haven, Hants (Mar 2010) and at Oxford’s Farmoor Reservoir (Dec 2013). More than 20 were reported this morning around the south-east English coast in Norfolk, Suffolk, Kent and Sussex, with three more at two inland sites. Essentially marine in winter, these Baltic and tundra breeders are rare inland in Britain, usually turning up during freezing weather. The instructions on RBA said in the SW corner of Willen Lake, viewable from the perimeter path near the pub. What they didn’t make clear is there are two lakes here, a southern one (SP877397) being home to a water sports complex, while the northern one is more naturalised.

I reasoned that the Scoters would more likely be in the less disturbed location, but upon checking out the north lake first the information board showed the pub was by the south one. The busier option it was then but in my first scan around every black silhouette was a Coot. Then I noticed two birders further around the perimeter path and went to join them. They pointed out the area where they had last seen the two first winter male Velvet Scoter, but it was several minutes before we relocated them close to the structure pictured below left.

Poor light

Willen Lake water sports centre and hotel / pub

Mist was rising above the lake’s surface in steady drizzle and the light was deteriorating fast. As so often when meeting birders in the field I seemed to recognise these two but could not place from where. After my companions left, the two Scoters continued to drift right, diving all the while and getting closer and closer. These sooty brown ducks have a stocky, rather large-headed profile with a thick lower neck and long wedge-shaped bill. Their pale cheek patches always stood out but the white secondaries remained hidden. I was only going to capture little blurs in the conditions, but as always these images (below) show how the birds were seen.

Velvet Scoter (first winter males)

In an hour or so on site this was the best of my three Velvet Scoter experiences to date, and the afternoon was duly filled with a satisfying encounter. After October’s five British list additions my national birding had gone rather flat, though as darkness set in some good early winter birds have swelled my Oxon year list: White-fronted Goose, Scaup, Whooper Swan and Hen Harrier. Most recently Pink-footed Goose was a county list addition and I have now bettered 2015’s total. If there were new national or county birds to go and see every day I would never lack for motivation, but life and birding unfortunately ain’t like that!

Misty Velvet Scoter (bottom right). The other one has dived to its left

In the end I had to go. Having negotiated favourable (I hope) part-time working arrangements with my latest employer, these two days would be free. So I decided to travel beyond 200 miles for the second time this month and see the East Yorkshire Siberian Accentor at Easington.

When Wednesday morning came I searched for overnight accommodation on-line, finding a single en-suite room in a well-reviewed Hull B&B for £40. The first SA sighting appeared on RBA just before 8am and I made the booking immediately. Next I fired off a few texts to Oxon birding colleagues and some quick replies came back. “Well worth it” (Badger) … “It’s gotta be done!” (Andy) and … “Welcome to the dark side” (Clackers). Then, fortified for the journey by the usual selection of CDs with oomph – The Cult, Aerosmith and the top hatted one, of course – I headed up north.

It didn’t take long to hit the first snag, a road closure on the A43 at Towcester that necessitated the same diversion via Buckingham that Mike and myself had made four days earlier. Soon after joining the M1 I experienced the 50mph variable speed limit stretch, through road works with no work actually going on, that I had read about in some of Ewan’s blog posts. But once past the M6 interchange, with my Japanese tin can’s cruise control set to 70 mph, the miles sped past until I reached the port city of Kingston-upon-Hull. After that, as I had been warned it’s another 40 minutes or so mostly through low speed limits to the village of Easington.

“Are you lot all looking at me?”

I arrived on-site at around 2pm, and there in a weedy strip of land between the outer and inner security fences of the natural gas terminal was the prize (above) I’d seen a few trillion pictures of over the previous four days. Collins describes Siberian Accentor as a shy bird that keeps mostly in cover, and that’s exactly what this extreme vagrant did for the two hours that I stayed here. 50 metres or so away was the private garden in which many of these pictures (see here) must have been taken last Friday. I must assume that the preference then for feeding openly amongst the moss there may be less typical behaviour.

As I say fairly often, I will not be submitting the images (below) for any awards, but they convey exactly how this bird was observed today and how well camouflaged it was in this habitat. In short it was an exceptional rarity in a quite unattractive place. As a spectacles wearer, the double line of security fencing (mesh then electric) through which I had to follow the bird’s movements was particularly distracting. But the bold head pattern, with broad and long buff supercilium and black cheeks, always stood out and the visitor was undeniably a cracker!

Siberian Accentor

This was not the only mega at Easington yesterday. About a half-mile walk from the first spot an Isabelline Wheatear had been present all day in a ploughed field behind the coastline. A middle eastern breeder that should winter in sub-Saharan Africa, a record number of these have also turned up in the British Isles this week. As I walked down to the second location (TA407186), no parking signs were out in force. Local residents, having already experienced the year’s top mass twitch, were clearly wary of another invasion.

North Sea coast at Easington

Initially, tired from my day’s exertions, I could not locate this bird by myself. But as soon as more birders arrived … well they found it for me straight away. This is a pale-toned Wheatear, very similar to a female Northern Wheatear but slightly larger and with a more upright stance. One diagnostic of a shorter tail with broader black band was quite apparent as this individual moved around on the brown earth here. It is a species I added to my life list on Cyprus’ Akamas peninsula in April 2012, but have always wanted to remove all doubt about since that bird was self found. Comparing my pictures then to today’s first winter bird in the RBA gallery (see here) confirms that historic record.

2012 adult Issy Wheatear in Cyprus

I slept very soundly overnight. This morning there was no sign of the Siberian Accentor that must have waited for me to drop in and then gone on it’s way. What a nice mega! Elsewhere a sixth bird for Britain turned up in the Hebrides. The Easington individual was the first ever on the mainland, hence the mass twitch that occurred after it’s arrival a week ago on the afternoon of 13th. Since then further SAs have occurred at Saltburn, Cleveland; in Sunderland and on Holy Island. And across north-eastern Europe an amazing 91 had been logged by 18th in Scandinavia, the Baltic countries, Germany and Poland. It is not yet understood what has caused this irruption, but prolonged easterly winds out of the western end of their breeding range is a factor and more birds are anticipated.

The plan for today (20th) was to visit the now resident Western Purple Swamphen across the Humber Bridge in north Lincolnshire. I have been asked by other Oxon birders why I went for the Least Sandpiper in Devon on 1 August instead of this bird when it first arrived on these shores. The answer is that the former was a lifer whilst WPS, also a national first if accepted, is a British list addition for me. But there’s nothing wrong with those given reason to be nearby, hence the double agenda for this week’s trip up north.

Lincs Wildlife Trust’s Alkborough Flats NR

I have observed Swamphen many times previously on the Iberian peninsula, where I knew the species by the alternative name of Purple Gallinule. Having experience of wetlands there I could see exactly why this individual should chose to make its home in the large expanse of Alkborough Flats at the confluence of the rivers Trent and Humber. I also wondered whether it might have considered there was a little too much going on at its initial stopping place, the one time birding mecca now family fun park of RSPB Minsmere in Suffolk. That would be a sentiment I share entirely and was another reason for not going there in August.

The on-site information boards explain that the present Alkborough Flats, formerly arable land has been created as part of the Environment Agency’s flood risk management strategy for the Humber estuary. A breach in the sea defences allows water to be stored over one-third of this 1000 acre site during extreme high tide events and so helps to reduce flooding in places such as Hull, Gainsborough and York. In the process new mud flat and saltmarsh habitats are developing naturally to the benefit of wildlife, and other areas are being turned into grasslands and reed beds.

Alkborough Flats

The Gallinule / Swamphen’s favoured location can be scanned from a signposted viewing area (SE883221) across a field from one reserve car park (pictured above). Many visiting birders have had to content themselves with distant sightings from this location on a low escarpment above the flats. But today the bird had been reported from the hide at the western end of the lagoon in the vista. I could see people inside and decided to go down, the question being what was the best route. Oops, definitely not this way (pictured below)! Oh dear, there must have been another clash of interests here between green clad optics carriers and the local property owning elite. Well. this is a private road.

When I walked around by the permitted paths, I couldn’t see the cited access point anyway. There was a second car park about 300 metres from the hide and a hard track between the two. The plaintive pinging of Bearded Tits was issuing from the reed beds here as I went along. On reaching the hide I didn’t want to be the irritating (to me) type that walks straight in and asks: “Any sign of the whatever,” without even looking. So I sat down and scanned around until a lady to my right said: “It’s coming out again now.”

View from the hide … it’s in there somewhere

Yes … the blue blur

Here’s one I prepared earlier

There on the far side of the lagoon the Purple Swamphen / Gallinule was moving from right to left along the reed edge in all it’s blue, red and white splendour; just as I had seen them do so often in the Algarve and Coto Donana. In the archive picture from 2014 included above, the pose is identical. I only needed to tick this bird for blighty and did not linger too long here. Marsh Harriers were quartering the reed beds and on the way back to my vehicle the habitat seemed to be alive with Bearded Tits that would burst out in groups and fly around to the delight of onlookers. They are always a nice bird to see.

With two British list additions in addition to the lifer, my agenda for this trip was now complete. The satnav took me back to God’s own county (Oxon) by the M69 / A46 / M40 route that was much better than the outward journey. And so I arrived back home in the late afternoon feeling as shattered as I had anticipated, but all this had been well worthwhile.

Gaining another of the more regular autumn drift migrants was a very satisfying bird life list addition this weekend. There was a good sized fall of 22 Dusky and 11 Radde’s Warblers along England’s east coast through Friday and Saturday. So as Mike and myself drove up to Norfolk we picked out the first of four Radde’s to be reported in the county and headed for a spot just west of Wells-Next-the-Sea.

The previous two weeks had produced a birding purple patch in Blighty, due to high pressure settled on Scandinavia beneath which a strong easterly air flow deposited a veritable cornucopia of Siberian breeders at coastal sites from north Norfolk upwards. The trouble is most of this was so far from home, beyond my range. The outstanding areas were the Spurn peninsula, Flamborough Head and Bempton Cliffs in Yorkshire. But getting there entails a gruelling 200+ mile motorway trek that I just would not regard as enjoyment.

Instead I interested Mike in a weekend expedition to Norfolk, where two lifers Olive-backed Pipit and Radde’s Warbler had been logged all week. When Saturday came I would have loved to go for Britain’s first mainland Siberian Accentor in Yorkshire, but neither of us could face that journey. Around 9:30 am we arrived at a muddy farm track called Garden Drove, off the A149 near Wells (TF944434). There, at a spot about half way to the coastal salt marsh, upwards of 20 birders were staking out a hedge in which was said to be the Radde’s Warbler.

Radde’s Warbler

Radde’s Warbler

All pictures in this post © and courtesy of Mike Kosniowski

It took a few calls from those around me to get on to this constantly moving little bird, but eventually its quite attractive diagnostics were plain enough to identify. Radde’s has a rather large-headed and bull-necked appearance with pale legs and a thicker, more tit-like bill than either Willow or Dusky Warbler. It is more colourful than the drab brown and buff latter, with the upperparts typically olive green and the underparts dull yellow. Radde’s also has a long, clear-cut supercilium and eye-stripe and dark yellow or orange-toned under tail coverts. I found it difficult enough keeping my binoculars on this bird, but Mike’s long lens on a monopod managed some images (above) that show all this to reasonable effect.

Up until this point my heart had been in East Yorkshire but my head in Norfolk. Now having gained an important lifer I felt very content with the day’s work so far. My one previous attempt at Radde’s, a few year’s back near Alton in Hampshire, had involved staring at a mass of vegetation for around three hours without seeing anything. We next moved on to Wells Wood, in various parts of which another potential lifer, Olive-backed Pipit had been reported throughout the preceding week.

From the beach car park in Wells (TF914454) we walked westward along the Peddar’s Way trail in search of a spot known as the drinking pool. There a Pallas’ Warbler had also been seen as well as the OBP, but in more than an hour on site we couldn’t be sure of having ID’d either bird. Most of the birders who had been here through the morning had given up and dispersed by the time we arrived. Two more OBP sightings in the vicinity were posted on RBA while we were there but who knows? The species, like Tree Pipit is often found in or around trees, and this is an awfully big wood in which to find one. I consoled myself that there will be easier to observe individuals at other sites in the future, whenever that might be.

Barred Warbler

Barred Warbler

There was still time to fit in my fourth Barred Warbler (pictured above). This species is more frequent in Britain than Dusky or Radde’s, averaging around 170 records a year, the great majority of which are first winter birds in autumn. Today’s Barred was at Burnham Overy Staithe at one end of the quay (TF845443). The large, pale Warbler would emerge at intervals from a mass of vegetation close by some houses, before relocating once again. A Dusky Warbler had earlier been reported further east along the sea wall, but people here who had looked for that bird were saying it had flown off. So the day’s tally was now two lifers out of a possible four for Mike, and one out of two for myself.

I am coming to regard my British bird list, now at 326 as a little less modest considering the range that I operate within. Soon after starting this journal just over two years ago I gained my 300th, and despite that aversion to long distance twitching I keep on chipping away. Of the autumn drift migrants Dusky, Booted and now Radde’s Warbler have all been added in the last 10 months, and so further names beckon like Greenish, Arctic and Paddyfield.

Since my end of April visit to Llangollen (see here) I have wanted to pay more attention to this part of the world. And the presence this week of Booted Warbler, a lifer at the Great Orme’s head, Llandudno afforded an opportunity to do so. My latest venture into part-time “living-wage” employment is proving erratic to say the least and I have had a certain amount of gardening time of late. But whilst finding some motivation for that necessity is welcome, the familiar urge to hit the road had been growing again in recent days. So although 205 miles is way beyond my usual birding range, on Wednesday I just upped and went anyway.

Never mind the M6 and A55, I took the more leisurely route through the scenic beauty of the Vales of Llangollen and Conwy, and along the winding, single carriageway A5 in between. It was a clear sunny day that had been another reason for doing this and the north Wales upland landscape did not disappoint. Managing the journey with just one short break and no cat naps, I arrived on site some time after 4:30 pm to find several birders observing the Booted Warbler.

Llandudno and the Great Orme

The Booted Warbler location

The massive limestone headland of the Great Orme is a rather wild and empty landscape (above right). Earlier in my day Clackers, who had been here on Tuesday with Ewan (see here), described how the Booted Warbler was showing down to two metres. I suspect many of these images (here) on RBA were posted after that. The autumn drift migrant had not only chosen to be this obliging but was doing so right next to a car park. Now in strong wind the bird appeared quite hyperactive, moving around constantly between the various clumps of gorse.

A common and widespread breeder in central and eastern Eurasia, Booted Warbler tends to frequent low bushes and weedy fields. The normal wintering grounds are central and southern Asia. This is a small and strikingly plain warbler, the upper parts resembling the colour of milky tea and the underparts off-white.

Booted Warbler

My own best picture (above) shows the rather domed head shape, short primary projection and short square ended tail. Other diagnostic features are a strong facial pattern, with beady eye and pale lateral crown stripe. The pale orange bill is longer and sturdier than a Chiffchaff’s with a dark tip, and appears slightly angled upwards. I watched the bird for around 90 minutes in the cold wind and fading light, then went to find my B&B.

On Thursday I returned at 7:30am to find the Booted Warbler frequenting a grassy area where the close encounters had occurred two days previously. Conditions were now much less windy and the bird was not so mobile, spending more time feeding on the ground. After a break for breakfast I came back again and stayed for a coupe of hours in company with several other birders, some of whom were Welsh speaking which was interesting to hear.

Booted Warbler on Gorse …

… and on the ground

For much of the time this warbler remained foraging in one area of long grass and its diagnostic head pattern was very noticeable. It seemed settled in this location and all present were being considerate, standing in line a safe distance back and skirting the viewing area widely when coming and going. But eventually two later arriving people with cameras just had to try to get closer, put the bird up then chased after it. More new arrivals then joined in the pursuit. I decided the likelihood of a closer photo opportunity was fading fast and so left. It was in any case almost midday and time to go sight seeing and indulge some early life memories.

Llandudno: Grand Hotel and pier

This north Wales coast holds many such associations because until I was aged 12 family holidays were taken in Colwyn Bay where my grandparents were caretakers of a place of worship. So that was where I headed next today. I had re-visited once previously in 1993 to find that, other than the gargantuan trench of the A55 having been ploughed through the town, things had changed very little and the old seaside resort had acquired a faded air. This time much more “progress” was in evidence.

The streets around where my grandparents lived are now a conservation area. So the early 20th century red brick houses that I recall so well, with turrets at the corners of the biggest ones, are all being refurbished in their original style. But elsewhere the space of my childhood memories had been filled with various public leisure facilities. The formerly charming Eirias Park for instance now holds an events centre and 15,000 seat stadium. I didn’t look to see what the seafront structure pictured below right is, but it is just so ugly and in your face.

Colwyn Bay seafront looking east

Aagh … what an eyesore!

A little to the west the long derelict pier (pictured below) has yet to be either demolished or rebuilt. I left here thinking that too much has changed not necessarily for the better for me to want to re-visit again. I considered that Llandudno still has the genteel and affluent ambience of it’s Victorian heyday. But Colwyn Bay has the air of a town that was allowed to outdate too much before being partially redeveloped in a hurry.

Colwyn Bay seafront looking west

A historic site that I wanted to see again was Conwy Castle on the other side of Llandudno. This has long been considered one of Wales’ most picturesque, but upon my arrival conditions had become overcast and the road bridge below the medieval ruin was a construction site. The yellow stone grandeur of my recollection, that is also portrayed in classic paintings and illustrations of the site, has assumed a duller, dirtier appearance with the passage of time. In short I was disappointed. Conwy is nonetheless an evocative place that I would like to experience again if time on a future excursion here allows.

Conwy Castle and town

Conwy Castle

And so my agenda in north Wales was complete. A birding lifer, an overnight stop, some history and lots of nostalgia. I just have a special feeling for the area, arising out of an age of childhood innocence, that has never left me in adult life. And it was so good to have enjoyed those sentiments again, courtesy of that little off course waif the Booted Warbler.

When yesterday turned out to be work free I rather fancied going somewhere. The choice of location was the Keyhaven / Pennington nature reserve on the Solent where a White-rumped Sandpiper had been reported on four of the previous seven days. This is a Nearctic wader that I have observed once previously, but as the Hampshire site regularly holds things of interest a nice day out was in the offing.

I arrived at the end of Lower Pennington Lane (SZ318927) from Lymington some time after 11am in overcast, drizzly conditions and made my way out to the reserve’s Fishtail Lagoon that is often the spot for scarcer visiting waders. There a few local birders were already in place hoping the WRS would come in as it had previously from late morning onwards. But in three hours on-site here of this bird there was no sign. So what else was on offer?

Well Bar-tailed Godwit, Grey Plover and Knot, the three regular British waders I have missed on passage through Oxfordshire this year, were all present on either side of the sea wall. But the stand-out encounter was with a delightful group of six Spotted Redshank (pictured below) that were present throughout my stay.

Spotted Redshank on Fishtail Lagoon

The on-site information boards explain that just inside the sea wall here are a number of shallow, brackish lagoons that are connected to the sea through a system of sluices and tidal flaps. The salinity in these lagoons varies but is generally lower than sea water and so a specialised habitat has arisen. I do not know the precise detail but that seems like a reasonable explanation why so many scarcer passage waders occur here.

Most of my previous Spotted Redshank sightings have been of single post-breeding birds amongst large mixed flocks, as these Tundra breeders pass through Great Britain from late-June into the autumn. Today’s six birds were the most I have seen in one location, and being the main feature of interest on the lagoon it was a good long opportunity to gain a complete understanding of the species. In appearance, this can be summarised as being slimmer and more elegant than Common Redshank, longer legged and greyer toned with a longer, finer bill and striking combination of black eye stripe and white supercilium.

Feeding Spotted Redshank

Spotted Redshank

But what struck me most was the feeding action. Compared to the probing habits of Common Redshank these most attractive cousins reminded me of Avocet as they moved in a group (pictured above) sweeping their bills from side to side underwater. All this was enjoyed greatly through those three hours here until just before 3pm, when mindful of rush hour traffic around Southampton and Winchester I headed home.

Hurst Castle from Pennington Marsh

Of that much waffled upon group of vagrant waders “accidental small Sandpipers” (see here) one north American breeder Baird’s Sandpiper has had a good British passage this autumn. Several and sometimes possibly the same individuals have been recorded over the last eight weeks but these have always been beyond my preferred range or involved tedious journeys, to Minsmere, Reculver and north Lincolnshire for instance. So when on Friday a Baird’s turned up a mere 78 miles from home, close by the M5 motorway near Bromsgrove in Worcestershire, it was game on.

Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny and I really needed to go somewhere to flush a certain amount of work related tedium out of the system. So the Baird’s being still present on RBA, off I set to the lengthily named Christopher Cadbury Wetland Reserve at Upton Warren. This Worcs Wildlife Trust site comprises a fresh water lake and the saline Flashes that arose out of historic salt extraction. Between the two lies a sailing lake created by material excavation for the nearby motorway. A west Midlands twitch the short run up the M40 is always agreeable, certainly more so than Suffolk or Kent.

I parked dutifully in the sailing club overflow car park, as instructed on RBA, then purchased a day permit from the club cafeteria. It soon became apparent that co-operation between the two interest groups extends no further, with clear lines of demarcation between (“are you a”) members and annoying, visiting green-clad optics carriers. Try asking to use a toilet here to find out what I mean. Things are so much more convivial at Oxford’s Farmoor Reservoir. As so often at these multi-use sites no-one was checking if birders were paying for permits anyway.

Inland salt marsh at Upton Warren Flashes

I somehow expect to see other Oxon birders on these occasions, and today Justin Taylor was leaving the last of three hides that overlook the Flashes. It was quite crowded inside and he pointed me in the general direction of my quest. Then I played dumb with a Ruff and another birder put me onto the Baird’s Sandpiper. Quite soon this rarity relocated to the inner shore in the above picture and proceeded to give grandstand views. But it was still too far away to capture any more than distant blur images, and there was little chance of repeating my recent picture success with Least Sandpiper. Nothing decent from this site had appeared on RBA yet, but that didn’t stop the incessant hopeful chatter of camera shutters inside the hide. For some good quality images from today see here.

The very clean and tidy looking juvenile Baird’s was generally buff toned in appearance with neat and delicately patterned upperparts. Slightly smaller than a Dunlin, it had a shorter, straighter bill than the latter and noticeably long wings that reached beyond the tail (primary projection) when at rest. After displaying all this to good effect the bird returned to the middle distance from whence it had emerged. I remained in the hide for 90 minutes throughout which it kept coming in and out of view to endless muttered directions for the benefit of new arrivals.

Baird’s Sandpiper (left) and Spotted Redshank

Job done it was very pleasing to have added this year’s third small Sandpiper to my life list, following Broad-billed (see here) and Least. The variety of other waders present at such a small site was impressive, with Common and Green Sandpiper, Common and Spotted Redshank, Ruff, Curlew, Lapwing and Avocet all in view at once today. The Flashes here are saline, receiving brine from underground seepage. The on-site information boards explain that in places the high salt levels prevent the growth of vegetation. In other areas salt tolerant or dependent plants create an inland salt marsh that is unique in the country. Hence Upton Warren has a reputation as one of Worcs’ best birding sites. Lack of a good photograph aside today was a very satisfying experience.