Missing the Glaucous at Rainham.

Glaucous Gull is one of my favourite birds. Such a powerful, menacing bird. Unfortunately I haven't seen one for years, so when two turned up at Rainham, it was a no brainer. I set off on Friday morning straight down to Coldharbour Point.

Long story short - I didn't see them. Lots of large gulls, even more small gulls, and a few downcast birders. It was my first time doing a circuit of the tip, and I did eventually get views of loads of gulls on the top of the tip from just east of Coldharbour Point at a considerable distance, but nothing doing. somehow, a fly-though Peregrine, Marsh Harrier, Avocet, Black-tailed Godwit, Pintail, Wigeon, and even 8 Snipe on the foreshore were scant consolation.

So Sunday morning, and why not try again? Well, because the tip is shut on Sundays so its the gulls' day off and they leave the area generally is why not. I turned up to find a second winter had been seen flying NE about thirty minutes earlier, which is funny because as I was driving down the M25 NE of Rainham about twenty minutes earlier a large pale gull had flown high across the motorway, and as I glanced up and saw sunlight through translucent primaries I thought to myself Bollocks Bollocks Bollocks I bet that's it.

Peregrine again, Marsh Harrier, c40 Golden Plover, c200 Dunlin, Avocets, plus the usual stuff all viewable from the mound. There was a time when such a list would have been an epic day out. No more. I guess you know when you've arrived as a birder when you get a list like that and leave disappointed.

A Day in The Brecks

On my tod today as my usual partners in crime are otherwise engaged or ill. I often find the Brecks difficult and I underperform expectations, so a chance to put in some time researching the favoured places, specifically Santon Downham. There has been a regular Great Grey Shrike, but other Brecks specialities such as Crossbill, Firecrest, and Woodlark I often find hard or impossible so maybe a chance to get some of these on the list here or elsewhere. Goshawks would have to wait for another day with less wind and more sun.

The omens weren't great as a gusty wind was blowing low cloud and intermittent rain across the sky as I pulled up at St Helens, but straight out of the car up by the railway line a large flock of Great tits with a few Chaffinches and Coal tits and a couple of Bramblings. I bumped into a couple of others looking for the Great Grey Shrike, and we looked round the eastern edge of the car park drawing a blank on GGS but did get a couple of Crossbills that turned into a male, an imm male, and two females. We spent a time watching these superb birds in a birch tree, although obviously I was not too excited as for me these are a common garden bird.

After that I headed west along the river. My first time along the river, and what a great piece of habitat. Several sightings of Kingfisher and permanent accompaniment of Siskins. Great views of quite a few including a pale one, which if such a bird existed would surely be an Arctic Siskin. Nuthatch showed well, and then across the bridge at Santon Downham and more Bramblings on the opposite bank. By this point there were many other birders looking for the Great Grey Shrike, but we drew a blank as after a brief sighting in the morning it had not been seen since. There was little else to be seen here as the drizzle had set in, just another couple of Crossbills as I walked back to the car.

Then off to the old reliable of Lynford Arboretum for Hawfinch. Immediately on arrival there were a couple of Bramblings, then a few more down by the bridge, and then at the Paddocks a Hawfinch at the top of a tree. A half hour watch finally delivered five birds with splendid scope views in a tree and a few flight views, as well as a couple of Redwings and a Marsh Tit. It seems hard to believe that just a year ago I was watching sixty Hawfinches in the local wood.

Chat with a couple about Firecrest, and yes they are seen but rarely. Then back to the car, but coming back by the puddle (you know, the small puddle by the feeders about 100 yards down the path) a flock of Bramblings. About 40 birds in a range of plumages with some getting blackish heads. Very skittish flying up and then drifting down. What a sight! Surely there's nothing better in birding then a flock of these fantastic finches.

Just as I was leaving these birds and heading back to the car there was a shout and a wave from the couple I had been chatting to earlier. They were looking intently into the foliage by the entrance. I knew instantly what they were looking at and dashed up there to see a male Firecrest picking its way through the ivy. Ten minutes just a few yards away from this terrific little sprite picking its way through foliage with a few spells of total visibility out in the open was a great way to end the day, and a big thank you to the couple who found this gem and put me and several other birders onto it.

Ticks galore on the patch.

The patch is pretty much done. Habitat overgrown, a nothing kind of winter, not much chance of seeing anything of note. I only go there now to see common birds in a relaxed way, often much closer than you see elsewhere.

But not so fast! Doing some pruning in the garden (which is in the patch, fortunately), and "chip chip chip!" Here? A quick scan and two green finches have just flown out of the pine tree next-door but one. That's finches that are green, not Greenfinch. 2 Crossbill!! a wholly unexpected addition to the patch and garden list!

I grabbed my binoculars, went and scanned the tree to see if there were any more Crossbills, and whist not seeing any of those a male Blackcap did pop into view! My first ever winter bird on the patch and my first winter bird for at least three years (although I did get them regularly at my old house in the middle of the village).

Suitably inspired I went to Pishiobury Park to look in tall pine trees. I didn't see any more Crossbills but did find a Nuthatch (new for year) and a small flock of Siskins. Odd numbers have been seen in the first winter period but this was the first time this winter I've seen them well. About 10 max I would say.

The finches weren't finished, with a glorious male Bullfinch, a small flock of Chaffinches and about 20 Goldfinches. A Great Spotted Woodpecker, a couple of Jays, and then, to finish, a Snipe flying over the boggy area. Snipe are probably permanent in the northern part of the scrape field but not often seen on the rest of the patch.

5 patch year ticks. 1 patch life list. 2019 patch list is 51 versus 54 for this point last year, but lack of water means well down on ducks.

On being a stupid birdwatcher.

My name is Dorset Dipper and I'm a stupid birdwatcher.

I don't mean the mis-ID's last week at Abberton. There was a Spoonbill somewhere around, and when I saw a large white bird flapping over a distant shore I called out "is that the Spoonbill?" and no it was just another GWE. Then a large raptor over the same shore - "Is that a Marsh Harrier" but before I could get on it someone else had confirmed it as a Buzzard. and then a flock of Dunlin and one with a massive curved bill. "Hang on everyone - is that a Curlew Sandpiper?" and after a while watching, on the ground and in the air, we decided it was probably an Alpini race. But what a bill! No. I'm not talking about those, all of which I think fall into the category of calling out first and then ID'ing later. Better to risk public mistake than announce after the fact you saw something noteworthy.

I mean the what-on-earth was I thinking? Why exactly did I fail to go back and have a proper look at that larger-than-a-stint-smaller-than-a-Dunlin wader, which may well have been the White-Rumped Sandpiper that appeared shortly afterwards? Why did I not listen to the inner voice saying "are you sure that's not just a juvenile ruff?" before announcing to the local RSPB warden I had rediscovered the Pectoral Sandpiper? I mean the ones where in retrospect all the evidence was available and I just ignored it.

Well now I have the answer as to why, on occasion I am a stupid Birdwatcher. It is here in the article suitably titled "How not to be stupid".

Stupidity is defined as "overlooking or dismissing conspicuously crucial information". The article lists seven reasons why one might do this, and quite a few are relevant to birding. Being in a rush would explain the WRS above, or that feeling that I had a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do it.

Others also pertain to birding. Being outside your normal environment. Information overload. Being in the presence of a group with an expert, or being an expert. Doing any task that requires intense focus. Being tired.

I'm not sure where List Fever occurs in that list, that feeling that you have made an emotional commitment, not to say financial and time commitment, and have already rehearsed the excitement of seeing a particular bird, so the emotional cost of admitting that it isn't the bird in you were hoping to see is considerable.

From work experience, the issues that trip you up are the ones that come from left field. The projects that come through the usual route and fall into the standard processes get done; the ones that come in by circuitous routes don't fall into the usual process and get screwed up. Well, birding is full of birds that don't come when, where, and how you were expecting them.

So this year, I'm going to try and exercise a bit more proper process, to relax and do the due diligence, to be, well, just less stupid.

Another rubbish day on the patch

The patch has been, comparatively speaking, rubbish this year. The pond at the heart of the patch is overgrown and has no standing water despite recent rains, and location means that it doesn't get much in the way of vagrants, so I set off this morning with low expectations.

A flurry of tits and a couple of Goldcrests at the bottom of the drive, then round the corner and up to Nursery Wood at the NE corner of Pishiobury Park. A brief stop saw a Nuthatch and a family party of Bullfinches, and another Goldcrest.

Not much then until the three-bridges area. Capability Brown designed Pishiobury Park to have a serpentine lake below the park toward the river. This area is no longer a lake but is private farm-land. When there is heavy rain water flows over the west and fills the still-present depression. Viewing is hard in winter as it is through a hedge, and impossible in summer. Today I managed to see Teal, Gadwall, and male Wigeon. The Gadwall numbered about 5 and the Wigeon and Teal were recorded in single but may have been more.

Down to Feakes Lock - 2 Cormorant in the Cormorant Tree, 13 Redwing over, then round the Loop field - more Bullfinches, Yellowhammer over, 70 mixed Common Gull and Black-headed Gull in a field, Kestrel, more Goldcrest, then back to the three bridges for a second look at the wildfowl. A flurry of birds with 2 Ring-Necked Parakeets calling loudly and flying around, Stock Dove, and a look around revealed the cause of the excitement - a male Sparrowhawk slowly causing over the field. 2 Siskin over and 4 Jays , and it was off home, stopping by the willows by the navigation for a small flock of tits including a Treecreeper, back to Nursery Wood where there were now 2 Nuthatches, then Bullfinch again and excitingly 2 House Sparrow - always noteworthy on the patch as they are not an everyday occurrence.

So not Minsmere, but some nice stuff and a few local notables courtesy of the flooded field.

Home and Away

A couple of recent trips

Abberton. Quite a list! Black-Necked Grebe , Long Tailed Duck, Common Scoter, Bewick's Swan, distant Little Gull, Greenshank, Green Sandpiper, Ruff, Black Tailed Godwit, Marsh Harrier, and I've stopped looking at Great White Egrets there are so many of them.

Canvey Point - a bit gloomy, but a diver flying around was probably a Black-Throated, then off to Rainham. Howard on the desk. Anything around? Howard rattled off an okayish list, and then said that a gloomy day with an easterly breeze something like White Fronted Goose was a possibility. Just before the Ken Barrett hide 5 geese over - one of them has massive black barring on the belly - thank you Howard! Then Water Pipit, Pintail, Ruff, and a couple of Marsh Harriers. So some decent stuff.

This all contrasts with the patch, which has been  ... okay. A Chiffchaff calling incessantly in river-side willows eventually gave pleasant sepia views; my first winter chief on the patch. A Little Owl prowling at dusk. Then in the park, 5 Lesser Redpoll were the first of the winter, and a few Siskin were flying around.

Today I managed an hour or so. Three Green Woodpeckers in the field, a few Bullfinches, then some bird action visible over the railway line. A flock of a few hundred Woodpigeon with some Stock Doves, about the same number of corvids, and about 50 Chaffinches and 20 Yellowhammer, with good numbers for the patch. Now many areas have seen Bramblings passing through recently, and as its one of my favourite birds I had as good a look as I could through the finches. I'm sure you can imagine my joy at finding I had possibly the biggest flock of Chaffinches in the south of England that does not have even a single sodding Brambling in it.

But anyway ... onwards, and quite a few Fieldfare including ones feeding in bushes not too far off, and a distant Red Kite.

The thing is, I think I enjoyed my common birds about as much as I enjoyed all those rarities at Abberton. I guess we all started birding because we love birds. And not just rare birds, but any bird. I'm increasingly conscious that the best moments of bird trips aren't necessarily the target birds, but are the ones that give confiding views, or that you stumble upon and didn't expect. Take that Chiffchaff - is there a duller bird than a winter Chiffchaff? But I really enjoyed its smooth sleek plumage and warm tones.

Wallasea Island

For a while now, Wallasea Island has been the next big thing. Powered by the diggings of Crossrail, the RSPB were going to make this the next Minsmere, a place where expanding populations of Mediterranean and continental birds would make their homes.

It has all gone quiet for a while, with very few records coming from the reserve, until recently when winter raptors and owls have been recorded and most recently a Rough-Legged Buzzard. Time for David and myself to make our Wallasea Island debuts.

We got their early afternoon, satnav having thankfully guided us there in the absence of any signs. We parked in the 'car park' and headed up to the sea wall for a scan over the reserve in the slowly waning light. Lots of rough fields, some spaced out groups of cattle, some distant lagoons. On the estuary side, mud. In the distance a female Hen Harrier, and then flocks of Golden Plover and more common estuary waders, and a distant group of ten Black-tailed Godwits.

We had learned that the best place for the roost was by a gate just before the entrance, so we returned to the car park. On arriving there was a strange unfamiliar wader-like call. I looked up and a female Merlin was belting over which then proceeded to put up flocks of Lapwings and Plovers as it dashed low across the reserve. I guess that strange call was waderese for 'Merlin!'

We made our way to the gate where a couple of people were already present and started scanning, Apart from a couple of Kestrels hovering there wasn't much. Just a female Sparrowhawk through Then I got the scope on to one of the kestrels, and as it sank to the ground realised it was considerably bigger! Dam and Blast! Yet another in this blog's roll call of missed opportunities. Surely, at half a mile, there would be no second chance on this probable Rough-Legged.

Repeat scanning of the area produced a large raptor sat on the bank. Zooming in, it was buzzard-like with a whitish head. Then, it took off and miraculously flew towards us. It flew around at a range of about 200 yards, hovered, flew round some more, hovered some more, then sat on a bank. Whilst a couple of crows sat in attendance. Wow! Full white tail, white feather edges, whitish on the upper primary base, pale underneath with dark breast and dark tail band, the lot. We got ten minutes or so, possibly longer, until it flew down into the field out of site. Quite the best views either of us have ever had of Rough-Legged Buzzard.

And that was pretty much it. Just a flock of 35 Corn Buntings flying around, 6 Marsh Harriers, and a distant Barn Owl.

So on its own terms, Wallasea Island is doing okay. I guess over the years the RSPB will start to deliver infrastructure, and a bit more variety of birds. But for now, at just over an hour's distance, it is well worth adding to the list of local places worth visiting.

Dream list in Norfolk

What a list! E/NE wind on the Norfolk coast in Late October (29th). Start the Day at Cley with White-Billed Diver, a distant White-Tailed Eagle coming over Salthouse, and a handful of Little Auks; go to Salthouse for the Stejneger’s Stonechat, Then Titchwell just in time for the Red-flanked Bluetail, and finally Red-Necked Grebe and some passage on the sea. Truly a list of dreams.

And dreams is unfortunately what that list is, because someone, no prizes for guessing who, managed to convince his mates that the place to start was Titchwell, not Cley. The first unpleasant surprise was that in contrast to the empty roads through Swafham and Fakenham, Kings' Lynn on a Monday morning has turned into the M25 on a Friday afternoon. Whilst seabirds whizzed along the Norfolk coast, we sat stationary on the A149. Eventually, we pulled up at Titchwell to a car park busy with birds. 4 Chiffchaffs and a Brambling. We strolled down to the beach to hear that we had just missed a Little Auk. Not to worry, they were clearly passing and it was just a matter of time. We got the Red-Necked Grebe off the shore, and a few other birds in the swell including a mystery grebe which I kept getting confused with the Red-Necked Grebe. Others claimed it as a Slavonian, and I wouldn't argue, but the few occasions I saw it didn't give me a conclusive view. So we left not having seen any decent seabirds, no Little Auks, and with the news from Cley about the White Billed Diver and the Eagle in our ears.

We returned to the car park, having a minor drenching on the way back, then a good look round the centre again with more Thrushes and calling Redpoll sp. Then a leisurely lunch in the car park. I note these prosaic details because when we arrived at Cley, where we found out that there was nothing on the sea, we learned that there had been a Red-Flanked Bluetail seen on the path back at Titchwell. I suspect it was the rain that brought it down. Now, to give them the benefit of the doubt, it may not have been known by the reserve staff at the time we left, but I sincerely hope that whenever they were informed someone got right down to the car park to stop anyone leaving without having the option of going to see it. All I can say is that when it comes to communicating what is around to the punters, RSPB Minsmere sets the standard.

So to that Stonechat. The Stejnegerjgerjgers whatever. It was nice, performed well, had a bit of Whinchat about it, but lets face it, we are all waiting for that paternity test to come back so we can tick it. We did get to hear about the moment the White-Billed Diver had flown by, and how the watchers got really excited when they saw that banana bill gleaming in the sun. Fantastic. I'm really happy for them.

We heard that RFB had been seen back at Titchwell, so back we went, and spent the last half hour of useful daylight standing by a freezing clump of sueda bushes with a group of cold disgruntled watchers. And then tantalisingly, my luck changed. Just me and one other saw the bird fly between bushes. It was only a nano-second, no red, no blue, just a flash of pale grey, but absolutely, definitely it. Out of deference to my travelling companions who missed it, I have graciously decided not to tick it. And, to be honest, having had one in touching distance for about half an hour a few years ago, a fly-by doesn't really hit the spot.

Then back to the gridlock of metropolitan King's Lynn. Just as well I had my travelling companions to turn what could have been a seriously miserable trip back into something much more relaxed and enjoyable. And there we have it.

Inland sea-watch and The Beast From The North

A flex day for Mike meant a chance to put the band back together again even if for just one day. I inspected the weather map and saw a repeat of the strong NE winds in the Thames Estuary which had recently brought seabirds galour to the Oare Marshes, and at just after 9 we were looking into a blank expanse of intertidal mud and low-tide estuary from the Sea Hide by the mouth of the Oare. "It doesn't seem an obvious place for a sea-watch" said David, helpfully, and as 60+ Avocets settled in front of us, I could see his point.

We walked round the reserve collecting c20 Ruff, c60 Golden Plover, and 1000+ Black-tailed Godwits but with none of the rarer waders for which the reserve is renown. It was turning into a bit of a disappointment when as we headed back to the car Mike spotted a Great Skua over the reserve - sea birds at last! A Peregrine appeared over the car, a massive female we would guess, and as we headed back to the sea watching hide now on a rising tide and buffeted by a howling NE wind we were treated by 7 Gannets high up drifting slowly inland.

An hour later we were heading back to the car with 4 Arctic Skuas, another 15-odd mainly juvenile Gannets, an adult Little Gull and a few Commic Terns to the good. The Swale channel in front of us and the winds had brought these birds in quite close too. Well, close for a sea-watch. Not bad for a marshland reserve!

And so, on the way back to Stortford we came to the Beluga. Riverside Saxon Way duly located, we were met by a birder heading back on his phone who kindly paused to indicate it was just off-shore, and there it was, a large disc of porcelain-coloured blubber rotating through the water and then gone. We watched it for an hour or so getting several decent views as it appeared to happily hunt along our stretch of river about 50-100 metres out; a surprisingly prominent spine, no dorsal fin, a marbled pale grey appearance, a blast from the air hole as it was about to surface and a nice length of body arcing through the water. I would guess 2m-3m long. A much better than expected series of views of this completely unexpected creature, and a collection of a spectators with many more women and young folk than attend the average twitch.

Welney Wonderland

The moment when the magic of the place hit home was when we picked up a Merlin whizzing down the back of the washes, past the three Common Cranes, just behind the grazing family party of Whooper Swans, and down on to the deck. This could be some piece of bogy tundra well beyond the arctic circle. And all from a large lounge which is certainly the most luxurious place to see birds I've encountered in the UK.

I hadn't been to Welney WWT for a while. Probably because if you're going to go all the way to Welney, you may as well carry on to the Norfolk coast, and also, its quite expensive. But the chance of seeing my second Pallid Harrier in three days (lol!) as well as the possibility of seeing Common Crane, a bird whose expansion in the UK had managed to pass me by, saw David and me handing over our money and heading across the wooden walkway to view the washes.

That Merlin moment didn't happen until after we had gone the full length north from the main hide to find the Harrier, only to be told it had been seen early and scooted off north somewhere. We did catch up with a couple of Marsh Harriers, one of which came really quite close, and a few Ruff amongst the Teal. A couple of distant Hobbies patrolled the far side of the wash, and Kestrels and Snipe kept us busy in the search for the Harrier. And three enormous Cranes drifted close by back toward the main hide. Wow.

The path was out of the path of the howling wind so had a surprising number of insects. We got Wall Butterfly - new for the year for both of us, one in a prolonged spiralling fight with a Small Copper; plenty of Migrant Hawkers often resting up out of the wind, and even a Willow Emerald. This species is becoming the Little Egret of the Damsel fly world. Last year we were thrilled to find one. This year we are delighted to see so many. Next year we will be disappointed not to see one in the usual places. The year after that we will have stopped counting them.

Time for lunch in the clean and overpriced modern cafe, up on the second floor to give a good view of Lady Fen. And what a view, as 9 Common Cranes flew around the fields, bickering and arguing with each other. It seemed there were three parties of three, with each having two adults and a drab brownish bird of the year. We almost overlooked the Tree Sparrows on the feeders, a treat for us Southerners.

Then back to the main hide to find the three Cranes still there, so 12 in total. A scan along the waters edge had single Avocet, three Black-tailed Godwit, and a couple of Dunlin with many wigeon and Teal there too. Then four Cranes flew in and we had seven birds doing the full Crane thing at a distance of, I would guess, between 50 and 100 yards. Those birds filled the scope view without having to touch the zoom. Jumping, jostling, then head-down arse-up feeding, and a bit more of that slow, languid flight and bounding landing. And then the Merlin doing what Merlins do. We quite forgot we hadn't seen that Harrier.

Here's a couple of photos. If you are thinking those are quite good for me, that's because they were taken by David. For more, see his excellent blog

Cranes from the main hide. 

Migrant Hawker resting out of the wind.

Spurn Point on migration fest weekend

I stayed with my mother in Leeds on Saturday night, returning to Hertfordshire on Sunday. A quick look at the map will reveal that a straight line from Leeds to Herts practically goes past the front door of Spurn Point; just a small detour required, would be rude not to. And by coincidence, it is day two the Spurn Migration Festival, so I am curious. The only downer is the solid west wind that clears Spurn of interesting bird like a dose of salts.

I arrive and check #migfest and a Corncrake has just been seen! A lifer for me, I head down to the location and join a crowd of 40 looking at a field with grass much taller than any Corncrake. Surely a futile gesture but no! There it is! and soon I am looking at my first Corncrake through the scope. The head is peeking round above the grass, and I am somewhat surprised that a Corncrake should be that big, and so, well, there's no other way to put this, so like a Pheasant. Slowly the truth dawns on the crowd, but hang on there it is! next to the Pheasant is a much smaller bird. We all get onto that, and there are two small birds, and they are baby pheasants. Oh well.

I parked back at migration-festival central and walk up to Kilnsea wetlands. No repeat of last years experience, just a few Wigeon, three Black-Tailed Godwits, some Dunlin, a Common Sandpiper and a Ringed Plover. And lots of Greylag Geese.

On to Beacon Lane Ponds, and there are three cracking female Roe Deer in a field and beyond them I can just make out about a hundred Golden Plover. Sadly no repeat of last year's Merlin on the ponds, not much at all in fact, until I get back to the Discovery Centre and a crowd looking at a flock of Sparrows, and soon the reason becomes apparent when a Common Rosefinch pops up. So dull it makes the Sparrows look flamboyant, it is nevertheless a neat bird, and has a touch of pink on the bill which I believe makes it a first-year male. A Whinchat appears alongside it, and we soon forget about the Rosefinch and concentrate on this.

Flushed with unexpected success and informed by the walkie-talkies which seem to be present at every group, I go to the sea-watching hut and join a line looking out to sea. A Great Skua was reported, and it took a while to realise that the dot in the distance was what they were watching. Then an Arctic Skua, and much purring from the line about the splendid close views we were getting as the bird went north a mere half a mile out.

Then briefly back to Kilnsea Wetlands. No sign of the Curlew Sandpiper, but a Pintail and a first-winter Mediterranean Gull are nice additions to the list, then its time for home.

The main feature was the number of people there who had come for the festival, and in particular the number of young folk. It was great to be amongst so many birders. But call me an old moaner, I have noticed when ladies of a certain age get together in a hide they develop list fever and start seeing all sorts of things. I felt a bit of a killjoy telling some ladies that three Citrine Wagtails would be an exceptional sightings, and that most sightings at this time of year are juvenile birds and not bright yellow. Perhaps in future I should just shut up and let them enjoy their birds, real or imagined.