6th January 2024

A jaunt around Crosby Marina and Parkgate. The highlights were the long-staying Black-throated Diver, and a drake Common Scoter. The latter was sat on the edge of the smaller pool - possibly the first time I've ever seen one out of the water and at close range. At Parkgate in the late afternoon, there were the usual throngs of Pink-footed Geese and commoner wildfowl. Two or three Great Egrets were seen on the marsh, along with multiple Little Egrets. Marsh Harriers were harder to count, but probably around half a dozen were hunting. Two separate ringtail Hen Harriers put in performances, with one  giving prolonged views as it harried anything and everything. 

Common Scoter drake, looking very dapper in the sun.

Black-throated Diver

2024 - New Years Day in North Wales

After weeks and weeks of wind and rain, 2024 started off with a rare calm day. Malc, Mark and I had a casual day out which initially consisted of dipping on Waxwings in multiple locations before a look on the sea at Llandulas. The usual large numbers of Common Scoter were mostly distant, again as usual, but decent in good light. A single male Velvet Scoter flew through, as did 3 Red-throated Divers. There were several rafts of Great-crested Grebes, a handful of Red-breasted Mergansers and a single drake Eider, and a couple of Fulmars were seen too. Nothing rare, but pleasant enough.

We decided to head off towards Llyn Brenig, but shortly after setting off a flock of roadside Waxwings brought us to an abrupt stop and we enjoyed spectacular views of at least 32 birds, often at eye-level. It's a shame the day was dull, but the views were splendid. It's been a good winter for these gorgeous northern visitors, so I was very pleased to finally see these birds.

We dragged ourselves away and onwards to Llyn Brenig, but the annual Great-grey Shrike had vanished as it so often does. A few Crossbills flew over, but that aside birds were thin on the ground.

Back on the Limebeds 19/11/2023

First visit in a while to the Lostock Lime Beds. It was really enjoyable to be back; the beds are full of water and looking great.

The central flood is full, and held 10 Shelducks, 17 Teal, 16 Mallard and 3 Gadwall. Over on number 7, the warm-water working bed, there were around 1800 Lapwing, 160 Golden Plover, 2 Dunlin and 6 Curlew. A male Peregrine shot through scattering the flock, before settling on one of the pylons.

On the walk over to 'Johnny Woods' lime beds, a Jay was my first on the site itself, followed by a  male Green Woodpecker which was presumably the one I saw in the same spot a couple of months ago. A small flock of Linnet and Chaffinch made me wonder about putting up a feeding station. 3 Mute Swans were the only other species noted on the lime beds.

Red-Headed Bunting, Flamborough 23rd October 2023

I was back to work after Shetland, but mid to late October is very often the peak period for mega rarities; birders eyes remained fixed on the all important weather charts. And the forecast for 19th October onwards looked potentially impressive, with a prolonged period of easterlies predicted. The autumn had been exceptional for American birds - would the east now deliver too? The forecast included a ferocious storm ('Babet'), which delivered high winds and torrential rain for several days; if there were birds they would not be found until things calmed down. You have to wonder how anything survives these ferocious events, but it does.

On Friday 20th Shetland struck, initially unbeknown to most of us. An Olivaceous Warbler on Whalsey was initially identified as the rare but expected Eastern form, although some doubts were expressed in the evening. On Saturday morning, the bird was trapped and measured, confirming it as Britain's first-ever (but long anticipated) Western Olivaceous Warbler. As rare as rare can be. But I had work commitments on the Monday and travel options following Storm Babet were very limited. A Shetland trip would take a couple of days that I didn’t have, so this was one of those birds I could really do without. Of course the usual front runners booked-out the small remaining number of Sunday flights from Aberdeen, with the intention of staying on overnight. The bird itself was showing well that afternoon and I was gripped, even though this one lacks any of the pazaz of our recent American avian baubles. I kept re-running travel options, but none worked. I'd gone in to procrastination mode, so had to park the notion and accept it needed to stay several days for me to get there. As ever in this situation, news of continued presence the next morning was eagerly anticipated; if it had stayed it would be successfully twitched which only adds to the pain of being unable to go. When that news was negative on Sunday 22nd, I’ll admit to being relieved. I don’t want others to dip, I never do, but I was thankful to be free from the torture of being unable to go. That’s what listing does to you.

Meanwhile, on the same Saturday (21st) there was news of a Black-headed Bunting at Flamborough Head on the east coast. A moderately rare but unexceptional autumn rarity and it's presence seemed unremarkable. The expected deluge of rarities hadn’t materialised following Storm Babet, but there had been a decent arrival of commoner migrants and the bunting had presumably arrived with them. Over the course of the day, despite the olivaceous-coloured distraction from Shetland, questions began to emerge on the bunting’s identity and red-headed was mooted by some. Red-headed bunting is one of those species that must occur in the UK as a wild bird, but they are common in captivity and have a long history of escapees. As such it is not officially on the BOU list despite everyone believing wild birds do occur. The wild bird trade was banned in Europe in 2000 and records dried-up, confirming the regular escape situation. Since around 2005 there have been only a few records, none of which were widely twitched. And then separation of black-headed and red-headed buntings in autumn is exceptionally difficult. So it’s not overly surprising that no record has yet made the grade. Regardless, the species is very much on birders’ radars and I think we all anticipated going for the next one (preferably a singing spring male, but beggars can't be choosers). 

It soon transpired that the Norwegian Rarity Committee has recently completed a thorough review of their Red-headed Bunting records, including a review of identification criteria for autumn birds and also moult strategies. In short they have apparently concluded that several of their recent records should be considered wild birds. During the review process, they looked at other European records of both species, highlighting a Shetland (Skerries) 2010 bird that they believed could be categorically reidentified as red-headed bunting. On this basis, it is understood the BOU is currently considering acceptance of the 2010 bird as the first UK record. Of course there must have been many wild birds here, but the BOU process somewhat oddly requires a 'first' before others can be admitted. On the assumption of acceptance of the 2010 bird, the current Flamborough bird seems to be a shoe-in for BBRC acceptance, assuming identity is confirmed. The Norway experts have been sent photographs of the Flamborough bird and believe it comfortably identifiable as Red-headed, and DNA has been obtained so one way or another the identity will be confirmed. 

So this bird was worth seeing. I was still tied-up with commitments and work, so had to wait on the Sunday whilst others went. Unlike the Olivaceous Warbler I was relaxed on this one - it seemed likely to stay and even if it didn't there would be more. It's also a very uninspiring bird. Still, Flamborough is a lot easier than Shetland so not a tick opportunity to dismiss, but not one to fret over either. 

I went to work on Monday 23rd already knowing the bunting was still present. It had been difficult to see on the Sunday but seemed to be performing better, today - perhaps due to lower numbers of people. Following my meetings I was on my way at 11.30, but was quickly stopped by an M62 incident and lost an hour. I eventually got to the Flamborough North Landing car park at 3.15 and walked the 15 minutes to the favoured area. There were half a dozen birder present who told me it had been showing intermittently and, after about 15 minutes, it appeared with several Yellowhammers and Reed Buntings in a hawthorn bush. It continued to show in the same area for the next 30 minutes and so showed well. Red-headed Bunting pencilled-in. It's a remarkably tatty bird, with missing tertials and greater coverts. That is usually taken as a sign of captive origin, but apparently the Norway review found that it is normal for immatures to commence a partial moult on migration and it's therefore common for them to look pretty grim in October. Have we been writing-off  other birds on this basis too?

After the recent run of dazzling Yanks, the eastern offering this autumn is decidedly drab by comparison. Had it lingered the Shetland Western Olivaceous Warbler was similarly dull toned. There's nothing like subtle beauty.

Shetland 2023

After the invasion of American birds last week it was fair to say that Shetland was very much an off-on affair. In the end, just a couple of days before we were due to head up, Shetland started to turn up a few decent birds, in particular a Veery and a Tennessee Warbler. The scene was set and me, Malc, Andy and Paul Baker were in. Andy headed up directly a couple of days earlier to see his pal Dougie, with the rest of us driving up to Aberdeen on Sunday 1st for the overnight ferry. This was the first time I had elected to take my car over, mainly as I incorrectly had assumed I would be able to get off anytime, and to allow me to take more work paraphernalia.

Monday 2/10. We disembarked the Northlink ferry and immediately headed north to Lunna Kirk on north-east Mainland. The VEERY was still present and immediately showed well in the line of sycamores. A little cracker of a bird and only my second in the UK, the first being a Western Isles twitch to the isle of Muck in 2011. How time flies.

Veery

Moving on to Brae, we managed a brief flight view of the RIVER WARBLER in flight and then using a thermal, but not the sort of views you’d want if a new bird. Heading south we tried and failed for a long staying Citrine Wagtail near Lerwick, but had better luck with a Bluethroat nearby before dropping the bags at our Cunningsburgh digs. Then on to  Wester Quarff where the EASTERN SUBALPINE WARBLER showed quickly and finishing up with nice views of  a Short-toed Lark at Scat Ness. Other bits and jobs included a couple of groups of Barnacle Geese and - unusually on Shetland, a Kestrel. The newly built expansive Viking wind farm now dominated central Mainland, and I have mixed views of its presence here. 

Eastern Subalp. Identified from call apparently. Slightly annoying as a Western would have been helpful on the listing front.

Short-toed Lark

Barnacle Geese

Tuesday 3/10. A generally migrant less day where we birded not enough and saw even less. The limited highlights were both Yellow-browed Warbler and Red-breasted Flycatcher at the Orca on, Hoswick. We missed a Rustic Bunting but flushed a Jack Snipe whilst searching, and had distant views of a harrier species which must have been the roaming Pallid.

Red-breasted Flycatcher

Weds 4/10. A day of mostly missing birds but came good later-on. We tried early morning for the River Warbler but without success, then spent ages failing to see the tame Olive-backed Pipit at Voxter (although a Great-spotted Woodpecker was entertainingly out of place). The weather was much improved today, so we decided on an assault up Ronas Hill for the resident male Snowy Owl which had been seen yesterday. No joy with the owl, but I do love being up in this stunning remote place so it was enjoyable anyway. A couple of Mountain Hares were the only living creatures we saw up there. We then had several brief but largely unsatisfying views of a Blyth's Reed Warbler at Ronas Voe. We headed back to Voxter where the Olive-backed Pipit had returned and showed incredibly well. The day ended up with nice views of both Red-breasted Flycatcher and Barred Warbler in Hoswick.

Barred Warbler

Olive-backed Pipit

Thursday 5/10. News from Bressay late in the afternoon of the preceding day dictated today's movements - we were off to Bressay and, specifically, the Gorie Plantation. There had been an arrival of Redwings, and as we arrived a Magpie flew from the plantation - a major Shetland rarity. We were tipped-off to head inside and take up a quiet position. Incredibly, for the third time in four years, Shetland kindly delivered me a showy White's Thrush. This one was a little trickier to see than the previous too, requiring us to lie-down and peer under the spruce. With patience, however, the bird did show well. I suspect this will remain one of my favourite species for many years to come, and it's hard to believe now just how long it took me to see one. We moved on to Quendale, where a Garden Warbler in the iris beds looked out of place and the long-staying Marsh Warbler showed briefly. A flock of Barnacle Geese were see nearby, before we dropped Paul off at the ferry terminal.

White's Thrush. Not my photo's but don't know who's - sorry 

Friday 6/10 was a write-off with gale force winds and heavy rain.

Saturday 7/10 saw us drop Andy at the airport, leaving me and Malc for the remainder of the trip. We weren't sure how much longer to stay and the forecast was dire, but this is Shetland and anything could happen. We spent the morning watching commoner waders in the southern bays, before happening on the Cattle Egret near the Sumburgh Hotel. A walk towards Quendale Bay yielded spectacular views but only a Lesser Whitethroat and more Barnacle geese. It seemed bird-less, so when news of the continued presence of a Red-flanked Bluetail on Yell was too tempting to miss. It took a little while to see, but eventually good views were had. Late in the day we called-in to Wester Quarff where another Barred Warbler showed very well.

Red-flanked Bluetail

Sunday 8/10 was another grim day, but five Snow Buntings at Scatness were enjoyable. We bumped in to old pal Rich Fray, who has lived in Arizona for 15 years and was over with his wife visiting brother Rob. Nice to catch up in a very odd location.

Snow bunting

Monday 9/10 was Malc's birthday. We attempted to get to Fair Isle and try and finally get him Lancey, but there wasn't a viable transport option. We chose not to go to Fetlar for Mark Sutton's White-crowned Sparrow, so ended up at Lunning where the Siberian Stonechat showed very well. 

Siberian Stonechat. Seemingly of the commoner 'meena' species.

Cetacean news had us heading west, spending a few hours looking at nothing near Brae. It transpired we'd gambled on the wrong place, so more news had us scrambling to the remote western headland of Esher Ness. We arrived just in time to see the '27's' ORCA pod in the bay at Steerness, then getting ahead of them as they passed below us on the cliffs at Esher Ness lighthouse. Another fantastic encounter with the same animals I've seen on each of the last two autumns. And another animal I will never tire of, and a very nice compensation birthday present for Malc. 

Tuesday 10/10 and Wednesday 11/10. I'd had a sore throat the day before, so today's positive covid test didn't feel much of a surprise. Two days in bed followed, but at least the weather was terrible and there were no birds for me to miss.

Thurs 12/10 was out last day. We were booked on this evening's ferry and I was ready to leave. I felt improved but not exactly firing on all four cylinders so tried to do some work calls. Midway through one of these, Malc starting yelling from the next room. There was clearly a bird of note, and that turned out to be an American YELLOW WARBLER at Hoswick, just down the road. I've seen two Yellow Warblers in Ireland before (both on the same day in 2008), but it remains a massive rarity. We were down there in no time, but the bird had disappeared and it took some time to relocate, eventually showing quite well in a patch of rosebay willowherb, even flycatching from a telegraph pole. After the American warbler packed September it was quite incredible to add this to the list - it's hard to imagine 2023 will be beaten for American landbirds, and excellent end to the trip. Malc was over the mmon as we headed back to the house to pack up before heading to the ferry terminal for the overnight crossing. 

Yellow Warbler - again not my shots and duly borrowed

BAY-BREASTED WARBLER (with added Maple Syrup) Saturday 23rd September 2023

The excitement of the previous days' Magnolia Warbler had quickly turned to trepidation. Those of us afflicted with compulsive twitching rarely bask in the glory of a success, it’s all about the next one (or the one that got away). The Ramsay Bay-breasted Warbler had remained on  Friday 22nd. We now has 24 hours to go before a possible American warbler double-whammy, but by now there was a deluge of American birds across the west of the UK and Ireland. What on earth would be next. And where. Twitcher tensions and FOMO meltdown abounded. This was a truly remarkable deluge of rarities but I doubt many of us were enjoying it, or at least not those of us attempting to balance family and work too. With lots going on at home it was hardly ideal that I could be away on Saturday, but I was still going. Sometimes you just have to. 

Our boat was a 10am, but we wanted to get there nice and early so we were parked-up in the scenic lifeboat station near St David's not long after dawn. Familiar faces were assembling. In the end there were 3 boats organised, 9.30, 10 and 12. We were on the first that had been announced, but not the first of the day. But we were booked and that’s all that mattered. 

Ramsay is only just across a narrow sound and we knew the bird would be searched for at dawn. We chatted and scanned across longingly at the island. I was my usual pessimistic self. Surely two new American warblers in a week was far too much to hope for? 

A Wryneck was found by the path and gave fabulous views early on. A welcome distraction and a bird I see too rarely. 

Wryneck

It wasn't long after 7 when the wardens could be seen on the island, clearly searching for the Bay-breast. After no more than a few minutes the distant searcher returned to the house. Surely that was a good sign - would anyone give up that quickly? There was no signal down by the quay, so I wandered uphill only to be met by an animated Steve Gantlett headed the other way. The news was indeed good - game on. It was now a case of waiting for our turn on the boat. Everyone pushed a little closer towards the slipway, as if that made a difference. There were only 3 boats today and lots of people had failed to get tickets. There had been stark warnings not to turn up without one. Us paranoid ticket holding twitchers feared less scrupulous individuals may try to sneak through, leaving us high and dry. The 9.30 boat departed on cue, and it was our turn to head down the steps. Security was surprisingly tight - we went through no less than four separate role calls, a security brief before boarding, another on embarkment and a third on arrival. That said, the main drive was safety and biosecurity, so I have no complaints about it. 

As we waited, there was another incredible birding occurrence. News of the UKs first Canada Warbler came through. Not only that, it was just up the road close to the Magnolia warbler (which was still there) and had been found by the same birder. What the actual hell?!?! Having seen the one previous Irish record (in 2006), I was able to be calm as others lost their heads, but the whole place went in to headless chicken meltdown. My hopes of a rapid return home post-Ramsay had clearly just gone sideways, but it was fantastic to be part of what was evidently turning in to an all-time classic twitch. 

Once on the boat, the crossing of Ramsay Sound was lovely, but constantly interrupted by more and more American bird news. Nothing like this has ever happened before (and it’s impossible to explain to a non birder). We were in unchartered birding waters.

But that could wait. On Ramsay some 15 minutes later, we were met at the quay by RSPB wardens and - somewhat bizarrely - two police officers. We were treated to another briefing before being allowed to head up the steps to the nearby willow and scrub favoured by the target bird. Just like it's Magnolian cousin on Thursday, it showed immediately and very well. BAY-BREASTED WARBLER - OML. 

Above two my shots. 

Simon Slade's photo

Steve Gantlett's shots above and below (@cleybirds)

                              

Having seen more than my share, I can say this bird was a cracker, a class individual. They're not always as clean and bright as this one, and it showed a treat in the willows and bracken alongside a few Goldcrests, a female Blackcap and a couple of Chiffchaffs. It was a a real pleasure to watch in a relaxed mood and in a stunning location, with Choughs overhead, a Peregrine and a Great Egret briefly taking attention away from the bird of the day. Unsurprisingly the twitch had gone well and fair play to RSPB for their friendly assistance. Apparently the police presence was down to a kayaker accessing the island without permission the day before, which was a risk to pupping seals and biosecurity. I don't know if he was a twitcher, but it seemed unlikely that a flotilla of kayak-owning twitchers would descend onto the island. Still if it helped then it's just fine with me.

Two new American warblers in three days. And two of the rarest. Dreamland stuff for us listers. Of the 20 species of American wood warbler on the combined UK and Ireland lists, as at today18 species have been twitchable during my time. I've managed 17 of those (so far) and hold out hope for another Blue-winged Warbler to make up for not being around for the sole record (Ireland, 2000, when I lived in the US). The other two species, Chestnut-sided and Hooded, are yet to appear for the masses but we remain ever hopeful. And there are quite a few more other possibilities.  

As we stood in the sunshine the American arrival news kept coming. Parula on Scilly. Philadelphia Vireo on Barra. Ovenbird on Rhum. Tennessee Warbler in Ireland. Bobolinks. Red eyed Vireos en masse, Baltimore Oriole. Black and white warbler in Gwynedd. Mind-bending stuff, and total panic for the younger generation. Part of me wanted to make it stop. But of course there was the pressing matter of a Canada Warbler to address, and my carload were understandably twitchy. I’d have normally been the same. 

We got the boat back at 12.30, and were in the car half an hour later. Despite the short distance, it was a longer than anticipated drive back to St Govan's Head from here - about an hour and a quarter along winding roads with an excessive amount of Sunday drivers. 

When we arrived it was complete chaos - a far cry from the calm of Ramsay Island. Cars were dumped on the narrow road verge, with people inside the roadside mass of willow scrub. The bird had been elusive and the atmosphere was tense. Even the weather had become more broody. We joined the throng, with the bird putting in a brief appearance to a handful of people just as we entered the fray. People surged. I went to the far end and waited, but seeing through the crowd in to the low dense cover was difficult. Some climbed trees. I attempted to balance on a log. This was nuts, and not in a fun way. After 45 minutes or so with no sightings I resigned myself to not seeing this bird and thanked my lucky stars for Kilbaha in 2006, as well as the many I've seen abroad. 

As it happened I had edged away at the right moment as it was called right in front of me and where very few people stood. I got about three seconds of it, mostly facing away but clear enough. That wodl be CANADA WARBLER on my UK list. It was immediately gone and I was engulfed in a crowd. I moved, and ten minutes later had another 10 seconds of views, an improvement on the previous ones, before it flew up over the crowd and back towards it's original location. At this point a lot of people hadn’t seen it at all, or just flight views of a ‘bird sp.’. Panic was now widespread. 

Canada Warbler. Both photos by Graham Jepson (@GrahamJepson1)

I moved again and found myself in the right place about ten minutes later; this time I managed about thirty seconds of views and saw it well. That would do me, but I had no idea if my car team had seen it. I found Malc and Simon and was relieved to hear they had. We eventually found the dour Welshman and gladly he’d seen it too. It was time to go. I later found out just how many people had failed, some of which had shared cars with people who’d scored. Some stayed over, but next day there was no sign at all. We had been fortunate.

The journey home was long. We should have expected it to be so given that our exit from site down country lane was quickly delayed by a bizarre Mexican stand off with angy crisp eating chap. Rather than following the accepted etiquette of both pausing for an oncoming car, this happy chappy drove nose to nose with us and refused to move, despite us being unable to do so. He then produced a bag of Walkers and set about snacking with exaggeratied actions, waiting for us to concede ground. Stuff that. I took out my phone and started watching videos. The impasse continued for several minutes before Mr point to prove gave in and reversed a full 20 yards to let us pass. What was that about? I exchanged pleasantries as as inched past our new friend. Passing Newtown we paused for impressively good fish and chips, and I was home around 9pm. Knackered but delighted. What next???

MAGNOLIA WARBLER!!!! 21st September 2023

The arrival of American landbirds this week has been on a different magnitude. Many of us had been watching the developing Hurricane Lee on the eastern seaboard of the US, and it definitely looked the business. But no-one anticipated what was to come. We are in unchartered territory.

Really, it's better to read the excellent Birdguides weekly summary than me even attempt to do the events justice, but I will borrow their phrase 'Yankmageddon'. 

In the morning of the 20th September the first clue of what was to come hit. A Blackburnian Warbler on a remote and inaccessible Irish island. Those of us who list Ireland and the UK were thankful of last year's  fabulous bird on Scilly (so much for a one-off). What was next? Over the course of the day the Whatsapp groups has been on fire with speculation and anticipation.

Late in the afternoon, just as I arrived home, a photo appeared on the group. Magnolia Warbler. One of these near-mythical birds that a handful had seen in the early eighties but no-one else. There was a one day bird on Fair Isle in 2012 that me and a few foolish others got as far as Wick for, but those were the only previous records. This was game-on, wherever it was. Moments later the location came through, incredibly it was on the mainland, near Pembroke in South Wales. After that it was a case of making plans, and heading off for the next morning.

I was joined by Malc, Simon Slade and the effervescent Welsh Ed. It's a long drive across country to that part of the world, and we set-off a little later than we ought to have (at 3.30am), so it was light before we arrived and happily positive news had come through quickly. 

We arrived at the car park on St Govan's Head around 8.15am and hastily walked the 500m or so to the valley. The bird showed within moments. MAGNOLIA WARBLER  - OML. There's no better addition to the list than an American warbler, and they are truly rare here. It doesn't matter how many I've seen in the US, this is special. We soaked it in, with the bird showing intermittently but well for the next hour and a half. How easy was that? 

As we watched another photo appeared on the Whatsapp Group. Bay-breasted Warbler on Ramsay, just 20 miles away. WTF - that's even rarer than the Mag!!! Panic amongst the crowd was quickly tempered when it became apparent there was no chance of boats today, or tomorrow, due to swell after the storm. Bugger. As we set-off homeward word of Saturday boats was shared and Simon hastily booked 4 spots on the first one at 10am. We'd have to wait 48 hours, and make the return journey to South Wales if the bird decided to linger. As we drove home more news of American birds came through, nothing overly rare but nevertheless something truly incredible was happening. 

The finder's shared shot. (Toby Phelps). What a fabulous moment that must've been for him.

Steven Windle's superb photo