If the most satisfying bird life list additions are those that require a bit of working at then this was a minor classic. I had failed previously to find Wallcreeper on both my spring trips to Provence in 2012 and 2013. This Alpine species winters on rocky inland cliff faces such as that region of France abounds with before returning to higher altitude usually in April. And the presence of one as far north as Dinant in south-east Belgium struck me as a rare opportunity being conveniently much nearer. This bird was discovered here on 30 December and is the first reported in Belgium since 1988.

From the blogs of those Oxonbirders who travel regularly to see birds it is plain that we share a common motivation. Every so often we just have to get away again. Hence, with the same birds appearing day after day on British RBA and the spring passage in its earliest phase, I decided to indulge in a trip a little further afield. Dinant lies in a spectacular gorge through which the River Meuse flows in the Ardennes region. Like many people perhaps, I have travelled through Belgium more often than stopping there, and this was an area I had for some years wanted to experience more closely.

Meuse gorge, Dinant

I arrived in the town late on Saturday afternoon amidst the kind of overcast murk that had been sapping my spirits at home. The recent directions on RBA had said merely ‘Montagne de la Croix’ or ‘Meuse’ and the bird had last been reported on 14 March. From the picture (above) it can be seen there is a vast amount of habitat in which a Wallcreeper might lose itself. MdlC was the name of a steep road leading out of Dinant, but there was only one small rock face there that was suitable. I checked some other cliffs nearby to get bearings before a Sunday visit, then headed for my overnight stay in nearby Falaën.

The choice of stopover proved to be a distraction since in the morning I elected to explore briefly the picturesque ‘Haute-Meuse’ in which my hotel lay before resuming the quest. This scenic area of winding roads through deep river valleys, abbeys, fortresses and chateaux is a playground for outdoor activities of the man-made kind, and is also very popular with bikers. Hence I was pleased to be here out of season, even though overcast skies remained from the previous day.

Dinant: citadel and Montagne de la Croix (to right on skyline either side of church)

Returning to Dinant at around 11am I scanned all the rock faces for the Wallcreeper between Montagne de la Croix and the citadel, without success. Walking back again I ran into the first Belgian birders of the weekend who were watching a cliff behind the Palais de Justice and Police station (pictured below). This was on the corner of Place de Palais Justice and Rue en Rhee. The two ladies, who had the Belgian equivalent of RBA on their iPhones, said the bird had last been seen here at 6:30pm on Saturday and goes to roost under the eaves of the Palais building, but it has been seen earlier on some afternoons. I had of course been nearby shortly before that time without knowing exactly where to look.

Part of Montagne de la Croix

It was now just after 1pm and the rest of my day was therefore mapped out. I could move on to my next destination, not see the bird and accept a frustrating dip (which was unthinkable having travelled so far) or stay here until roost time but hope the bird might show itself earlier. The two ladies soon left, then a resident walked through and showed me another nearby spot that the Wallcreeper frequents. At 2:45pm the sun came out but things were becoming a lonely vigil. After two breaks, one to take better pictures around town and the other for a welcome beer, I came back just before 5pm and more locals then began to appear.

This was clearly the business end of the day. The first birder to arrive, Robin Gailly pointed out the gap under the eaves on the back wall of the Palais de Justice where the bird goes to roost, and said it had been active on the cliff face for an hour before doing so on Saturday. The significance of that timing was of course not lost on me, and my companion explained that the whole cliff face in this part of Dinant is known as Montagne de la Croix. As more birders joined us further local knowledge flowed. I learned all the Wallcreeper’s favoured haunts, some of which different people went off to check while I stayed put.

The Wallcreeper roosts under the eaves above the circular window of the Palais de Justice

At just after 6:30pm Robin located the bird distantly on the walls of the citadel (pictured above). We watched it busying itself for about 10 minutes then it flew our way. Eventually the object of my quest arrived on the cliff face above us foraging for insects, flashing it’s colours and offering superb views. What a beauty, with a character and charm all of its own: slate grey with deep magenta fluffy bits, almost mouse-like and in perpetual motion. Had the six hour wait been worth it? Of course it had. Lastly the Wallcreeper transferred to the Palais wall before disappearing in an instant into its’ chosen dark hiding place. Bed time.

Wallcreeper in failing light

Here are some better images of the same bird (in winter plumage)

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My day in Dinant had been a truly memorable one. After success with Egyptian Vulture in Fuerteventura last month, another straggler had been struck off my southern Europe wish list and I moved on to Belgium’s northern heaths to seek out another lifer, Black Woodpecker.

Montagne de la Croix (above buildings)

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker is a bird I have seen just twice before. So reports of a pair in recent days at Rickmansworth Aquadrome in Hertfordshire tempted me out for a 44 mile Sunday drive along the M40 and M25. On my arrival at 07:45 it was the kind of calm, sunny morning I understand to be best for sightings of this difficult to locate species. The directions on RBA were “at the sailing club end of the causeway”.

There are two LNRs on the former gravel workings here: the Aquadrome and neighbouring Stocker’s Lake. The former is more like a public park, the latter is wilder and the “causeway” runs between them. As I approached two birders were clearly on a LSW and one of them showed me the bird, a male in his scope. It was in a large Oak tree on an island in Stocker’s Lake but soon moved as they do. In trying to relocate it for myself I had a couple of glimpses as the LSW moved around but no more, and it drummed a number of times. Though I have heard this in the past I gained a better impression here of the sound being lighter and lasting longer than a Great Spotted Woodpecker, one of which was drumming nearby for comparison.

Lesser Spotted Woodpecker
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Six birders had now gathered. The Oak was also being favoured by a pair of Stock Dove, Ring-necked Parakeet came and went, and various small birds confused the issue. Irritating Canada Geese on the lake kept up a cacophony of honking and passers by asked the inevitable questions. The Lesser Peckers’ presence in the area seemed to be common knowledge amongst dog walkers though.

At 9am a bird returned to the Oak tree and began drumming again but I managed just another brief glimpse before the Great Spot saw it off. At least I now knew which “dead branch” was being referred to by those around me, since there were various of them to select from. I watched that place where the LSW came back to for the next hour, during which the other birders all drifted off and the forecast cloud set in, but without success.

The location for these Herts birds is by the “you are here” label at the bottom left of this site plan (above). I had gained a third Lesser Pecker sighting but not satisfying or self-found views. My previous experiences of this species at Church Wood, Bucks (Feb 2012) and Cothill, Oxon (Apr 2013) were much better. Hence I decided to come back here earlier on another calm, sunny morning if possible. On Monday I received a call from Oxonbirder Ewan Urquhart who was interested in seeing the LSW himself, and we revisited this Tuesday morning.

Within minutes of our arrival just before 7am, the sound of drumming commenced from a little further back than the Stocker’s Lake island, but we could not locate the bird at once. I trained my scope onto the same spot as Sunday, that was said to be the LSW’s favoured drumming post, and waited. Then at 07:20 the drumming was clearly coming from the large Oak tree, and there in my scope was the male bird. We watched for a few minutes as it drummed, then preened and eventually flew off to one side; and that was both a satisfying and self-found view. Mission accomplished. More birders (pictured below) came and went in the next three hours but the LSW was not seen by anyone again before Ewan (second from right) and I left at 10:30.

In my newly leisured situation any sunny winter weather forecast is very attractive, and the prospect of a two-lifer trip to South Wales today was a suitable draw. Little Bunting is a taiga-breeding winter visitor that was absent from my British list, so one frequenting a LNR (local nature reserve) feeding station in Cardiff sounded like an easy spot. If this bird was seen quickly there would be plenty of time to look for a wintering Lesser Scaup in Cardiff Bay, and lay that particular bogey to rest having dipped on the species twice previously.

The Glamorganshire Canal LNR in the north-west suburbs of Cardiff is pretty much a public park. The outward journey was 110 miles. After stopping at the first entrance I came to it was unclear how to locate the exact place cited on RBA where the Little Bunting had been performing for the last few days. Through various and conflicting directions I eventually found the hide in question at a time when relatively few birders were inside. This was at the end of Forest Farm Road past some rugby pitches, or a walk through the reserve always bearing left.

Little Bunting

Shortly after my arrival the Little Bunting flew in very close, seed having been put down for it. Reasonable images (above and below) were not difficult to obtain at that range, though always looking into the sun. Resident Reed Bunting were present for comparison and the visitor was clearly smaller with chestnut cheeks, pale eye ring and noticeable wing bars. Gaining this important life list addition seemed a bit too easy really, but preferable to going to the Outer Hebrides or Scillies to see one which was the point of being here. The early afternoon was becoming pleasantly mild and when the hide began to fill up again I moved on.

Little Bunting

I envisaged the Lesser Scaup as likely to be a dot on the far side of an expanse of water. But when I relocated to Cardiff Bay Wetlands NR, local birders said the north American vagrant was showing well from a boardwalk. That location was at the far end of the reserve from a public car park between the Techniquest Museum and St David’s Hotel. I was told to locate the Scaup amongst the Tufted Duck, but there were a lot of the latter to scan. So having invested in just one hour’s parking time, I first took the easy option of asking another birder to put me on this adult drake. Then at my leisure I relocated it several times myself, and obtained a record shot of more usual quality (below).

Lesser Scaup (left)

When in view the Lesser Scaup stood out clearly from the Tufties with which it was associating due to its compact appearance and grey back. Most importantly the distinctive head shape was plain to see. This individual has apparently wintered here for a number of years. It was now 2pm and the afternoon had become positively spring like. The reserve itself (pictured below) was a pleasant oasis in what is a vibrant built-up area. I could only imagine the days when more of the waterfront here must have been in the same natural state.

The Lesser Scaup location

My two lifers had been gained and after an uninspiring motorway journey out I took a “scenic route” home via Chepstow and Gloucester. The words warm, twitch, successful and glow were rearranged in my mind as I went and the feeling savoured. This had been an outstanding day.

Yesterday should have been an uplifting experience but when I got home a communication from Kent Police was lying on my doormat. Having tried really hard to be careful since my last SP30 it depressed me to have been caught out for a minor lapse in concentration again. So it was some consolation to read on RBA that an Isabelline Shrike had been in east Dorset all day, a mere two-hour drive from Oxford. That was a must see after missing this lifer in Norfolk just recently. And if I didn’t set off too early I would be ideally placed to catch up with the Franklin’s Gull that had been coming in to roost at Blashford Lakes near Ringwood, Hants.

Still feeling down this morning whilst waiting for news of the Shrike’s continued presence, the alternative of paying attention to my Oxon year list held no appeal. I needed to be out on the road for a second day, whatever the risks. The “Izzy” was favouring an area just north of the approach to Hengistbury Head on the seaward side of Christchurch Harbour. When I arrived there at just before midday several observers were already on the bird, so I saw it immediately. Once more there are no prizes for the record shot, attempted in dull and drizzly conditions that persisted throughout my stay.

Isabelline Shrike

Isabelline Shrike belongs to an Asian group that are closely related to Red-backed Shrike. Whenever one is reported on RBA there is a discussion as to which of three very similar species it is most likely to be. The cinnamon coloured tail of today’s first winter bird is diagnostic, and there are other plumage details that I will not pretend to be familiar with. After a coffee break at a nearby café I retrieved my digiscope collar, but the bird did not care to show itself again before I moved on to Blashford Lakes nature reserve.

It was raining heavily when I got to Ibsley Water in the Blashford Lakes complex at 2:50pm. Other birders told me the hide here has been very crowded of late at gull roost time, but it was dry inside and I gained the advantage of a seat. There was a good natured ambience as all present waited for the star north American gull to make it’s daily, late afternoon appearance. After 30 minutes or so I turned round to find Oxonbirder Adam Hartley (aka Gnome) standing behind me, and I was also keeping in contact with Andy Last who had seen the gull previously. Not much chance of missing it then! Just before 3:30pm a murmur went up at one end of the hide and I immediately picked up the Franklin’s Gull in my own scope. This adult winter bird was very distinctive as the digiscoped image below shows, and it was apparently much closer to the hide than usual.

Franklin’s (nearest bird) and Black-headed Gulls

So this was a two-lifer day and a good antidote to having fallen foul of the Exchequer whilst trying to enjoy another nice day out a week earlier. Picking out the gull for myself in a hide full of birders was the more satisfying of the two experiences, but I have a good record on Shrikes and so appreciated the latest addition to their kind as well. The warm glow of a successful twitch has a medicinal value, so I felt in much better spirits on my drive home than on the way out this morning.

To begin with a preamble, the reason for an apparent pause in the adventures related here has been dipping once more on Lesser Scaup. I first missed this troublesome (at least for me) north American duck near Hereford in April 2013. The species eluded me again last weekend (1 Nov) at Wraysbury gravel pits in Berkshire, having been flushed by an inconsiderate fishery worker an hour before my arrival. After being logged there on Thursday morning (6 Nov), this bird wasn’t seen either by myself or others in the afternoon and hasn’t been reported since.

Another 2013 dip was Desert Wheatear, a usually confiding little number that really ought to be in north Africa at this time of year. Last autumn on the Severn estuary a ridiculously tame individual actually walked around the feet of some travelling Oxonbirders one Saturday afternoon. When I visited the following day, on a break from searching for Two-barred Crossbill in the Forest of Dean, the lost waif had disappeared. There is always something wrong if a bird is that fearless, and my guess was that a cat got it during the night.

And so to the present. Over the last few days three separate Desert Wheatear had been posted on RBA in Kent, Suffolk and Norfolk. Checking the distance, the Kent bird at Reculver (134 miles) was just eight miles further than my last twitch to Beachy Head. It’s a slippery slope, isn’t it! The location held two further attractions for me. Firstly other east coast autumn specialities, Horned (or Shore) Lark and Snow Bunting were also present. Secondly I like to combine a twitch with a bit of history and revisiting early-life memories. Reculver, the site of a Roman fort of the Saxon shore, holds recollections of a school trip when I was about 14 years old, my only previous visit. Game on!

Reculver marsh and towers

I arrived at Reculver Country Park at 7:50am, hoping the Wheatear would have been located in the interval since first light. On the far side of the Towers from the car park several birders were looking over a sea wall and there was my bird. I at once recognised the setting captured in some superb pictures on RBA by a Kent photographer. My image isn’t too sharp but still better than I could have expected: the bird didn’t come that close again while I was on site.

Desert Wheatear

Mission having been accomplished so easily and early I walked east along the sea wall in search of two recorded Snow Bunting and my first Horned Lark since 1993. A recent Norfolk weekend had made me want to see more of these two species, and Kent was after all a lot nearer. With many birders around for assistance, all three birds were seen well before 10am by which time the general public was intervening. Lots more birders were still arriving too, but with dogs running around on the beach I headed back the way I had come.

Desert Wheatear

Desert Wheatear

Desert Wheatear

The Desert Wheatear, a first winter male was now entertaining a largish audience from within a shell fishery just east of Reculver Towers, making for some interesting location pictures (above). Clearly in good health, it was flying up and catching insects from one perch or another inside the untidy compound (below). A Black Redstart was also attracting attention here.

All this was much to the chagrin of one after another kamikaze cyclist who would zip through without warning, berating any pedestrian who might have the temerity to be in their way. It doesn’t happen in Belgium or Holland where there is a proper cycling infrastructure, only in blighty. And still more birders came, but I had gained a lifer and seen what else I wanted and so went on my way.

The bird is on the fence (centre) in the foreground

This was an easy spot. As soon as I arrived on site in the early afternoon, several people standing on the ramp to the new Meadow Hide were already on the bird. The immediate impression was of just how pale this recently separated species is, as Oxonbirder Gnome’s picture (below) from earlier in the week shows. The first-winter bird was moving around an area with a lot of straw-coloured vegetation, blending in with it’s background as it perched on one stem or another. Well, might as well add another one after reaching the all-important 300! A pair of regular Stonechat were active nearby for comparison.

Siberian Stonechat © Adam Hartley

Titchfield Haven NNR, managed by Hampshire County Council, must be one of my favourite wildlife havens. It has a very pleasing ambience with little of the in-your-face populism that the RSPB’s professional fund raisers impose at their own comparative sites. Yes I appreciate that conservation charities rely in part on donation income and there is not much money in birders. But I just like going to nature reserves to observe wildlife and feel there must be a better way of conducting things than what has become the norm. This reserve achieves that balance and also holds fond memories of a March 2010 visit when I gained four British lifers. Those were Firecrest, Mediterranean and Yellow-legged Gulls, and also Velvet Scoter a little to the north on The Solent. Red-breasted Goose (Jan 2011) and Brown Shrike (Sep 2013) have been further life-list additions in this area of Hampshire.

Turnstone

After seeing the Stonechat I wandered around for a while. It was high-tide and a small flock of Turnstone were roosting in the adjacent Hill Head Harbour. I was able to capture another common wader close-up (above) to add to those taken at Oxford’s Farmoor Reservoir earlier in the autumn. Then I enjoyed a scan around from the Meon Shore Hide (below), where a selection of gulls and waders were either feeding or roosting, before embarking on the 80-mile drive home. This had been a most excellent day.

When I saw on Friday evening there was a Red-breasted Flycatcher at Beachy Head in Sussex it was an easy decision to  leave my end of season garden to the Scarlet Tiger larvae for at least another day. Not only was this bird a further passerine migrant to add to my autumn’s tally, but it was also a stonking adult male (see picture). There could be no more fitting candidate to take the landmark position on my British list.

Putting the destination into my satnav I was surprised when the distance was only 126 miles. En route I nevertheless felt like an extra couple of hours’ sleep wouldn’t have gone amiss. Then approaching Beachy Head signs about road closures from 9am because of a local marathon added a sense of anxiety. It was therefore a relief to find about 25 birders already at the stated location at 8:30am (below), staking out a hawthorn thicket right beside a roadside car park. I hurried to join them and got a first view of the bird within 10 minutes. Then two people close by said there was a Robin chasing the flycatcher around.

Though confident of what I had seen, that piece of dialogue meant a second view would be desirable to remove all doubt. About 30 minutes later the flycatcher began to appear more boldly, moving around the hawthorn bushes and flicking its black and white tail feathers, so that all present saw it clearly. A Robin it most certainly was not, though I did eventually observe the annoying local interloper as well.

At one point a chaplain in a high-vis 4WD stopped to see what was going on. He apparently has a role here spotting potential suicides and stopping them from jumping off the cliffs. Just as well I had seen the bird then! A few birders rushed for the pay and display machines thinking he was a parking attendant. Then two rather loud gentlemen arrived with a stock of twitching stories that anyone willing to listen was welcome to hear. When one of them began to quiz a big lens photographer about mega pixels, my thoughts turned away from getting record shots of my own. And so, mindful of the impending marathon I moved on.

Marshals and spectators were indeed beginning to congregate now but I soon left the race route behind. Sussex and the scenically beautiful South Downs is an area I barely know, so with mission accomplished so early in the day I hoped for a pleasant 70-mile drive west to Titchfield Haven on The Solent, where the day’s second lifer awaited. In the event Saturday morning congestion along the A27 rather took the edge off things, but having realised Sussex is so close by the direct route this is certainly a county I will re-visit in the future.

I made that drive with a great sense of satisfaction at having reached my British 300 birds. Also Red-breasted Flycatcher is a species that most seasoned birders will have and one that I’ve wanted to see for a long time. I suppose the next landmark must be to get my pan-European life-list to 400. That total, which includes the British list, currently stands at 373.

When I checked RBA on Saturday evening and saw there was a new Lesser Grey Shrike just north of Ipswich, it was an easy decision to go for it. This species was not only on my south Europe wish list (ie birds missed so far) but I had dipped on it a year ago in this same area of Suffolk. On that occasion a long-staying LGS had decided to leave on the day I chose to visit, setting off a run of negative twitching results that persisted for the rest of 2013. Sod’s law owed me a pay-back today!

Hollesley Marsh is a RSPB-managed area of coastal grazing marsh at the southern end of Orford Haven. I arrived at 8am and while getting ready a local birder from Ipswich parked behind me. We walked along the sea wall to where the Shrike had been performing for an audience on the previous day. Two more birders, who had been there for 50 minutes already, said there was no sign of it. More people soon arrived and I lingered for about an hour. The consensus was that the bird could have relocated to the nearby village of Shingle Street where there had been a past record, so I went for a look around there.

This location struck me as a very good migration fall point. Small birds were buzzing around everywhere and I came across some more locals who were on a Pied Flycatcher. So I got to see the area’s second most interesting visitor of the day. Then someone’s pager went off: the Shrike was back on its patch just up the road.

Returning to my start point I walked quickly out along the sea wall to tick this important lifer. The bird was now atop a bramble bush across a creek from where it had been on Saturday, and several birders were close to it. I then walked around to join them to be greeted by: “You should have stayed where you were, it’s over that side now.” Never mind, I had seen it and from this position the diagnostic features could be identified. After a rest I walked back round to the first spot again and guess what, the bird had returned to its favoured perch.

That was enough chasing: I stayed where I was and waited for it to relocate again. News having gone out on RBA, many more birders were arriving on either side of the creek. The Shrike, a female was now in a good light and the diagnostic features could be seen more clearly still as she hunted from her perch and assembled her larder. When she crossed over again I followed three guys who had seen where she landed, and we edged ever closer taking pictures all the while. I was careful to keep just behind the lead birder, and when he eventually put the bird up (oh yes he did, not me!) I even got a grainy flight shot.

Mission accomplished. Most of the birders on the marsh were working the Suffolk coast, but I had seen what I came for and so headed home. I feel on a roll now, with two much sought lifers in successive weekends. And this bird has not been reported again on 8th or 9th September, so sod’s law has indeed given me a payback.

Having gone to see Willow Emerald damselflies at Maldon, Essex I was within easy reach of a much-sought bird lifer. Why so important? Because Subalpine Warbler had eluded me to date in southern Europe and I have figured there’s a much better chance of seeing one on passage in the UK with knowledgeable twitchers for company. An exchange of texts with Oxonbirders Andy Last and Ewan Urquhart confirmed that a female of the species was still present close by the Port of Felixstowe’s customs house. This was just under 50 miles from Maldon, so onwards I drove.

Just upon reaching Felixstowe town centre at around 1pm my text alert jingle sounded in the car. “This’ll be Andy telling me the bird has flown off,” I thought. In the event not such bad news, but it hadn’t been seen for a couple of hours. On arrival in the road that leads past the customs house to Landguard nature reserve, I found  a group of 20 or so mostly local birders patiently watching a dense wall of vegetation. “A typical warbler twitch,” I mused. Memories of dipping on Radde’s and Hume’s Yellow-browed sprang to mind.

This was a good friendly twitch though, and I set up my chair and waited. Eventually people began to drift away but after around 100  minutes a shout went up from the customs house gate. The bird had been relocated and proceeded to reward its audience with cracking views. A customs officer appeared to remind everyone that: “This is a secure area and we are on our highest state of alert today, so please don’t go further inside.” Not likely with the bird performing so well right in front of us. He had his bins with him and said it was a lifer for him as well. Nice man.

Mission accomplished, as a text to Andy and Ewan confirmed. So it was on to my sister’s near Colchester for a cuppa and chinwag, then home enjoying the warm glow of a successful double twitch (damselfly and bird). A nice day out.

Female Subalpine Warbler (eastern race)