Saturday 5th September 2026
A short video of Britain's third and Scotland's first-ever Egyptian Nightjar at Virkie, Shetland on Saturday afternoon. An incredible bird. https://t.co/Fg7LpYIErB
— Hugh Harrop Wildlife (@HughHarrop) September 10, 2026
I went for a stroll around Frodsham, more to get out in the warm and pleasant weather than with any expectation of seeing much. Bird-wise it was uneventful as expected, but still good to be out. Number 6 tank was the lowest I've ever seen it, but despite looking the part it completely devoid of waders. Unsurprisingly, all the pools on Number 3 were bone dry after the long hot summer. It felt decidedly like summer still, aside from that subtle change in the air that makes everything crisp in the autumn light. To stay out and keep myself going, I walked along the Weaver Bend; this at least held a single Great Egret and a smattering of commoner waders. I wandered back and along the top of Number 1 to get a closer view of a small flock of roosting Redshank - not even a Dunlin, let alone a Curlew Sandpiper.
But things were about to change. At 16.06 a truly remarkable message, a Holy Hand Grenade kind of message, was shared on Whatsapp...
"Egyptian Nightjar (no really) Eastshore Virkie, around the end of the road and my garden"
The casually written text was from Shetland birder Roger Riddington. This was no hoax. Photos immediately followed. There were brief questions about whether this could be an 'eastern-type' European Nightjar (following a recent record of one in Malta), but that possibility was quickly ruled-out. This was a Mega of Megas, a bird of biblically rare proportions. There was no doubt, this was an emergency situation.
It was surely going to be untwitchable, wasn't it? It’s a nightjar, it will vanish into the vastness of Shetland once darkness falls, surely. News from the ground was that it was currently lost, with locals searching the area. The chances of it being relocated and then re-found the next day when I could potentially get there seemed infinitesimally small. But then the words "IT'S AN EGYPTIAN NIGHTJAR!!" rang through my head on loop. I briefly discounted going, as I so often do, but then quickly there I was, stood in the sunshine by the Weaver Bend, scanning the Loganair app for options that could get me there the next day. The ferry would have meant the bird had to stay until Monday, so I never considered it. If an attempt was happening it had to be tomorrow. Flights from Aberdeen were inconvenient, but there were Glasgow and Inverness options to get there. Both options arrived on Shetland around the same time, but neither had a return option the same day. This didn't seem like a time to worry about the return leg "IT'S AN EGYPTIAN NIGHTJAR!!". Glasgow was clearly more sensible, especially as it was almost the same price as Inverness.
Meanwhile on Shetland, the Nightjar had been quickly relocated on a rocky area of shore and was nightjars do) was settled. The locals were all there and the gripping shots begun to appear. I hit the booking confirmation button, there was no going back now. I was going north in the morning regardless of events for the rest of the day, and despite the ludicrously low odds of it being there that day. The bird apparently flew a couple of times courtesy of passing sheep but quickly resettled. It still there at dusk. A couple of locals stayed after dark and waiting to see where it went, but they had to wait until 8.30pm before it flew. Apparently, it circled a couple of times before heading inland and lost to view. It was extremely hard to imagine this bird being relocated tomorrow in the vastness of Shetland after a night of foraging, presumably for a meagre return compared to its homelands of desert and steppes. Nevertheless, I was fully committed now. As I so often do, I told myself I certainly wouldn't see it by staying home, but in this case could legitimately add that there would probably never be another one of these in my lifetime. Slim chance, but a chance of one of the birds of the decade (surely!).
So it was twitch on time. After a quiet Saturday evening and a relatively early night, I set off at a remarkably sensible time (for a twitch), headed for Glasgow. I was barely past Carnforth at first light when, incredibly, news came through that the nightjar was back on the same rock! No way! Talk about against all odds. The miles flew by. I arrived at Glasgow airport around10am and was greeted by fifteen or so of Britain's hardcore twitchers. Spirits were high. We checked in, drank coffee and waited for the 11.45 Loganair flight. Thankfully it was on time (remarkable for Loganair), and we touched down at a wet and windy Sumburgh at 12.45. Paul Harvey had kindly offered me a lift (with Dan Pointon and Al Orton), and we were at nearby Eastshore just a few minutes later.
And there it was, doing what nightjars do, sat in the open thinking it was camouflaged.
EGYPTIAN NIGHTJAR OML!!!!
Its cryptic plumage was beautifully intricate, but the distinctly sandy tones set against wet granite meant it wasn't too hard to spot. It looked distinctly out of place, especially in the initial driving rain. There were vast areas of identical beaches and rocks nearby, much of which is inaccessible, so it was truly remarkable that this bird had chosen to return to the same spot. And after today, it wasn't seen again; those poor souls who were unable to make it to Shetland today or took the cheaper ferry option, were to miss out. Much as it's always good to add to the blockers list, I don't wish a Shetland dip on anybody. It's a long way home empty handed, and often at some cost. I discovered later that a mere 36 mainland-based birders had made it up today.
Of course it didn't do much, but it did occasionally shuffle around or open its eyes for a little while. Nevertheless, I found it a stunning bird and thoroughly enjoyed being in its presence. The most recent record of Egyptian nightjar was on Portland, Dorset, in June 1984. That bird was seen by a single birder and not photographed. Before that, Britain's only other record was of one shot in Nottinghamshire in 1883. This was a rarity of Herculean proportions. Another UK record had always seemed unlikely, but it certainly wasn't on the radar for Shetland in September – presumably the most northerly record of this species ever. I was to later find out that a poo sample had been obtained and sent to Aberdeen University for genetic analysis. This was to show that the bird probably originated from the eastern part of the species' range, possibly around Oman or Kuwait. What on earth drove it to Shetland? What were the chances of it pitching down in a birders garden? Perhaps it had arrived on the same weather that brought us two Long-tailed Shrikes this summer, and a smattering of White-winged Larks in Europe - both species have similar distributions to eastern Egyptian Nightjars.
A juvenile Red-backed Shrike appeared in the bushes of Roger's garden – apparently, it had been around for weeks but to me is still a special bird and I enjoyed watching it.
As an aside, I'd just purchased a pair of Image Stabilised Kite 12x42 binoculars. My trusty but well-worn Swarovski's were away for repair and so I had just started using the IS Kites. I can hardly believe how good the IS technology is – it made an outstanding difference watching birds on a windy and wet Shetland. I'd go as far as to say that IS is the biggest improvement in the experience of observing since I began birding. So much for it being a pelagic only requirement.
Paul Harvey kindly drove us around for an hour to look for the long staying Pallid Harrier, but we were unsuccessful (no surprise in the rain). Using IS bins perfectly well from a moving car was, however, a new experience. We did see a 1st winter Mediterranean Gull, and a few Ruff amongst Lapwing and Golden Plover.
Mid-afternoon we headed back to Eastshore for seconds of the Nightjar. The weather had cleared a fair bit and the bird was drying out, but it was largely in the same position. Our boots were full, it was time to go. Adrian Webb kindly drove me to Lerwick where I joined ten or so of the day twitchers and boarded the ferry. The night was uneventful, and we arrived in Aberdeen at 7am as scheduled, before all taking a bus to Glasgow airport. Cars were collected, and it was a buoyant drive home (dropping Al Orton in Lymm).
Now that's what I call twitching!!
