TENGMALM'S OWL - 'nuff said.

Ok so us twitcher types can be prone to exaggerating how amazing some of our precious rare birds are. Or how rare each one is. Or how it is our 'dream bird'. Or how we missed the one 20 years ago and this is the only chance of  our lifetime. And we absolutely mean it, every word of it. This stuff is important to us. We are undoubtedly OCD on rare birds, we just can't help it. We get emotional and excited, child-like and sometime childish about seeing these things. We breath this stuff, despite it's bizarre pointlessness.  

Every so often something appears that utterly halts you in your tracks. A heart stopping moment when you first cast eyes on the news. Usually these are birds of myth and legend, faint whispers of the past. Birds that would never come again, or even if they did would never be accessible. Dream birds.

Tengmalm's owl is very much one of those birds, so when Andy C sent me a Whatsapp message from the Shetland group with news of one present in a garden on Mainland Shetland I had to read it several times. In some ways it should have been expected - there had been a one day bird on the small island of Copinsay (Orkney) last autumn, but that was consigned to join the other mythical records. Higher than usual numbers had been seen on the Scandinavian coast last autumn too, so again perhaps we should have expected more, but we've been there before and big numbers across the North Sea have failed to deliver UK records in recent years. Regardless of all of that I still wasn't prepared. This was big, and of course the twitching fraternity went into immediate meltdown.

So why is this species so mythical? The short version is that there has never been a twitchable one. Not a single bird. There should have been in 1983 (before my time), when one spent 3 weeks at Spurn in Yorkshire, but news was suppressed at the time leading to bitter repercussions locally that still linger to this day. Since then there has only been an inaccessible bird on Orkney (in May 1986) and last autumn's brief bird (which was photographed on a toilet by a non-birder!). No twitcher has seen a UK Tengmalm's. Ever.

Not only that, it's an owl. Everyone loves an owl. In fact if you had asked me and most other birders what their personal 'holy trinity' of most wanted birds would be, nearly everyone would include both Tengmalm's and Hawk Owls (with the third probably Wallcreeper now). It was never a question of whether I would go, it was simply about how I got there and when.

There's nothing like a local same day twitch!

It was a Tuesday (19th February) and mid morning when the news came through. I was at my desk in the office as usual. Same day wasn't going to happen. The following day was obviously preferable, but like an amateur I spent too long looking at return options on schedule flights being keen to get back to work and for the kids. The Wednesday option evaporated and it looked like I would have to drive to Aberdeen for the Wednesday evening ferry, assuming the bird was still present. It wasn't, news in the morning was negative, although the Shetland weather was fowl and so no one really thought it had gone far given the time of year. With it possibly moving roosts each day this bird had the potential to be a nightmare to twitch.

On Thursday 21st (hereafter Tegmalm's Day for all eternity!), news came through at 7am that the bird had been watched hunting from fence-posts by the original garden at dawn. Holy shit, I hadn't expected that to happen. Twitch on. Cutting a long story short, our cunning contingency plan came together perfectly. Along with Phil Woollen, Andy Clifton, Matt Mulvey and Malcolm Goodman, I was on Shetland by 1.30, arriving at the Bixter garden by 2.30 and straight onto to the roosting owl. Modern day twitching, eh?

Words I never thought I'd say - "TENGMALM'S OWL OML!"

The all important first glimpse.

Before it seemed to shuffle behind the trunk



Happy birders savouring the views (below)

After bounding out from it's roost it posed beautifully. Just superb.


Before flying right past us and landing on a fence post (Phil Woollen's photo).

But it got even better. As a finale it perched on top of a spruce tree for a few minutes, allowing us to savour every detail. Absolute dream stuff!! (Matt Mulvey's shots)

Initial views were actually pretty good, with the bird occasionally waking to preen and look around, but always at partially obscured. We had to stay overnight anyway, so it made sense to wait about until dusk to see if it would perform. Somehow the views had deteriorated without the bird appearing to move over the course of the afternoon, but at 5.20 it was wide awake and getting active. Suddenly, as I watched it through a scope, it bounded out of the tree straight towards us and sat there in the open for the next 15 minutes at just about 15m range. Incredible, but it wasn't done. It then flew right past us (undulating like a Little Owl) and landed on a fence post in full view for a couple of minutes, before finally flying up on top of a spruce as a finale. At around 6.45 is dropped out of view in the gloom, although I think even that was illuminated by the beaming smiles of the twenty or so birders present. Perfect views. How lucky were we, especially as it disappeared again the next day and some people dipped more than once. It's still there as I write this (26th Feb).

Straight up there into the top few birds I've ever seen. It's hard to express how good this bird was, but it made me think of Richard Millington's 'hyper-zonky mega crippler' from his old Birders Diary book. Although that is still insufficient. Deep deep joy at this one.

We overnighted in an Airb'n'b and savoured a Thai curry with a few celebratory beers. Next morning it was time to head back to the airport, stopping en route at the Shetland catch in Lerwick for a quick duo of an adult Glaucous Gull and a 1st w Iceland Gull, along with Kittiwakes, Black Guillemots and Eiders. Then south to Loch Spiggie where the long staying Pied-billed Grebe showed distantly. No time for much else aside from the obligatory Hooded Crows, Rock Doves and 'proper' Greylag Geese before heading home. Back in time to get the kids and enjoy a normal Friday evening with them.

Some twitch. In fact as I write this days later I'm still buzzing. This really was the stuff of legend, and if I'm honest a much needed boost in what has been a dark period personally. Perhaps there is such a thing as fate.

And because it's so good, here are a few photos from the following days, none of which are mine.

Jonny Mac

Hugh Harrop

John Coutts