Flying into February

03/02/2019

Last month I renewed my efforts to reach 400 birds before I get to forty. Starting the year on 262 and ticking off ring-billed gull, common crane and taiga bean goose in January. Of course, with the annual flock of bean geese still lurking around Slamannan, Tom decided that he had to tick them too (as if he needed to get further ahead of me...). After a flurry of messages, a whistle-stop tour of Scottish sites was planned, starting with Strathclyde for Iceland gull (for me) and ring-billed gull (for Jack and Tom), then up to Slamannan for the geese. By 8pm on Saturday, Tom was pulling into the drive and we were making plans for the next day's birding.

Of course, it snowed. The 80-minute drive from Dumfries to Motherwell was a scenic/hair raising trip through snow-covered hills and icy roads. When we arrive at Strathclyde it was to 50p sized flakes of snow and, typically, no birds. I mean, there were birds... just not the ones we were after. We picked our way diligently through the flocks flying or loafing on the ice-bound rowing lake, all the while our fingers cramping with the cold, but with no success. It was with a gloomy feeling that we got back into the car 45 minutes later and headed north.

When we arrived we seemed to be out of luck again. No sign of the birds in the fields between Slamannan and Fannyside, despite bumping Tom's poor car along every minor road open to traffic, the wheels skidding on the thicker lying snow. Almost conceding, we tried one last road, eventually giving up and swinging back the way we came. As we drove back in the opposite direction, Tom slowed to take in a couple of whoopers that Jack had spotted in a distant field, then - behind them - two lone geese that had been separated from the rest of the flock. Success! A quick photo later, we were off on our way. 

From just south of Sterling we set our sights on the lesser scaup that had been seen at Stranraer, stopping on the way for the chough at Turnberry (a super little bird which Jack picked out as it foraged on the beach). We arrived at Loch Ryan with the tide low, minimal daylight and a bitter wind. A large flock of scaup sat out on the water, but too far away to pick out their lesser counterpart. Luckily, two red-necked grebes sat in clear view and a mix of waders covered the mud. However, even these weren't enough to distract us from the chill, and after 15 minutes we decided that it was time to head home for a well-earned rest and a whisky. 

14/02/2109

There was only one bird that I'd dipped in January, green-winged teal. I'd darted out of work to see a one at Caerlaverock, but with limited light (and warmth), I hadn't managed to connect with it. On Valentine's Day, Jack and I decided to make another attempt to see the bird. After a late breakfast of bacon pancakes, we made it to the WWT reserve at 10:30, to be told that the bird had again been seen on Folly Pond. 

 Only 7 years and 135 birds to go... 

Things are warming up around the house as well, all the birds are singing and there are new visitors to the feeders. The starlings have found the fat balls, smart with their yellowing bills, and a reed bunting has taken up residence in the scrub. At the camera trap, the otters continue to mark their territories, and my thoughts turn to the badger cubs soon to be born and the need to find the sweet-spot to places the camera to be ready for their first appearances above ground in a few month's time.

Watching Winter Wane

Since returning from our round robin of parent's houses over the Christmas period, I've been longing for warmer weather, longer days and time outdoors. There is still plenty going on around the house (as you'll see below), but my thoughts are turning decidedly to spring. With another birthday gone I've also been kicking myself about my lack of progress regarding my 400 before 40 challenge. Still sat at just 261 birds and now 33, I have decided that (now I have a permanent job and a comfy home) I will be making ticking off the birds a priority this year. 

To help assuage my restlessness and lazy-birder's-guilt, I have been planning for a year of nature, starting at home. With so many birds visiting the feeders and such a good array of wildlife around the house, we're wiring up the garden. After a couple of eBay bargains, we now have a bird box camera set up, and a feeder camera (which I intend to use for small mammals) on the way.

I've had the trail camera out around the house as well, with a super successful week between the 4th and the 9th, during which I picked up badger, roe deer and fox at the same location, with plenty of otter spraint nearby too. After a quick battery recharge, the camera went back out yesterday at the spraint site with fingers crossed for the next 5 to 7 days. 

Continuing with the nocturnal theme, the moth trap will also be out as soon as the weather improves and we have our eye on a Batbox baton detector for our fluttery friends.

I also managed to get out birding. knowing that I will be making numerous trips between Glasgow and Dumfries over the coming weeks, I have been keeping my eye on RBA for any potential lifers I could pick up en route. Luckily, on my first trip, a prime candidate appeared. A ring-billed gull at Strathclyde Loch, basically a two-minute drive from the M74. What more could I ask for?!

On Thursday I finished my course at 1 and by 1.30 I was pulling into the car park. There are always plenty of gulls around here, and I wandered to the southern end where a cloud had gathered around a couple feeding the mallard and tufted ducks... but it wasn't in with the common, herring and black-headed gulls here. Making my way back I returned to stand in front of the path from the car park again. I focused in on every gull, no matter the size or initial impression, determined not to miss anything, when suddenly, the blinking bird flew down about 10 meters in front of me. 

I snapped away, following it as it moved north, and became aware of another 2 birders to my left. We stood for a further ten minutes, happily shooting the gull before it finally lifted and went to perch atop a buoy. Checking my watch (2.05 now), I headed back to the car. Bird 262 in the bag.

The next day there was a shout of green-winged teal not 5 minutes from work, at Caerlaverock. For two hours I clock watched, waiting until my last meeting after which I could dart out and try to catch the bird. I knew it had been seen during the previous week and hoped that it would remain where it was. I was wrong, an hour and a half in the bitter cold until the light finally gave out, and I slunk home in a mood (but a thankfully warm car).

That night I sat with my bird books and tried to plan out a year of catching all the breeding species and regular migrants in southern Scotland that had previously gotten away from me; wood warbler, nightjar and bean goose. Jack's dad mentioned that the crane was still present at Coldstream, and I made up my mind to head out there the next day.

Feeling thoroughly annoyed at having to get up early at the weekend, we bundled into the car at 8 and were on site by 10.45. Chris had said that we should be able to spot the bird in the furthest fields if we scanned from the path at the north end. So when I didn't immediately see a tall, long-necked silhouette I was immediately on my guard. I didn't want to dip two birds in two days... Trying to manage my expectations, we began to walk the circular route around the fields.

The wind was bitter as we made our way along the flood bank, and the disappointment of the previous day was still fresh in my mind. Happily, after 10 minutes of stop-start walking, bringing up the bins to scan the fields every few minutes, we finally locked in on the crane. Instantly relaxing, we quickly made our way to the draw level with it as it fed, snapping a few quick shots. After getting the scope onto the bird we watched as it fed, then skirted further along the embankment with the river at our backs, setting up the scope again and alternately watching and shooting. 263 in the bag, two new birds in 3 days.

As the bird began to pace to the far side of the field, a passer-by mentioned that the Great White Egret was again further up the river. Scooping up the scope, we headed along the path for 20 meters before spotting the bird stalking along the far bank. Another life tick for Jack. The bird seemed alert and nervous, and seconds later, just downstream, two otters surfaced. They were fighting against the current and the kit was whistling away, but within a minute they were gone again. Feeling the wind cut in again, we headed back to the car.  

It may be cold and grim right now, but some of those winter blues are leaving. There are still migrants on the doorstep to ogle at, and the promise of new birds soon. I just have to lose the laziness and remember to get outside. Wish me luck!

Tom terns 30

Last weekend was Tom’s 30^th Birthday Party (the much anticipated Birthday was the week before), I think my liver has almost recovered. More importantly, a few weeks before Tom, Jack and I had bundled into the car in hope of Tom’s all important 300^th bird.

With it being such an important tick, we had our eyes set on one of the UK’s scarcest breeding birds, the thought being that we could be certain of a good view near their nest site. For Jack and I this meant a four-hundred-and-sixty-mile round trip, for Tom it was a mere 400 hundred miles. We decided to head to his and let him do the bulk of the driving; three and a bit hours and a lot of junk food later, we were safely on the Northumberland coastline, enjoying one last coffee in The Fat Mermaid (cakes highly recommended) before meeting our boat.

The harbour was full of redshank, black headed gulls, eclipse eider, and the occasional sandwich tern (each one causing us to flinch). We had a worrying few minutes wondering whether we would be allowed onto the over booked boat, but fortunately places were found for all. Jack took the 450D and the 250 lens, I took the 7D and the Sigma 500, and the frantic snapping began. The air was full of guillemots, razorbills and puffins, gannets dove further offshore, and there was a constant coming and going of terns.

Tom and I flicked between cameras and bins, looking for dark bills, bright clean wings, long tail feathers; the hallmarks of the roseate tern. We approached Coquet Island over fifteen minutes, somewhat impatient as the boat stopped to take in seals hauled out in the shallows. We had both had likely looking birds at a distance, but nothing definite to our untrained eyes.  

Slowly, we edged around the island, nipping in close to peer through binoculars at the pairs perched around their nest boxes. Then, joy; not 5 meters from the boat an adult fluttered down to the sea surface and began to bathe, allowing us some awkward but beautifully clear pictures. Delighted doesn’t begin to cover our mood as we snapped away, then put aside the cameras for a really focused look. We were so chuffed that dipping on black tern on the way home (and missing little bittern in the process) didn’t bother us at all.

Bathing Roseate

Jack had even greater success with the 450D than I did with the 7, the shorter lens coping much better with the changing light. He managed to get all of the following shots, catching many of the best diagnostic images ...and he's never borrowing my camera again...

Jack's improved image of the beak

Jack's shot showing the individual crown feathers...

...and Jack's image of the dark primaries...

Of course, Tom being Tom, a few days later he snuck out after work for the East Leake bee-eaters, entering his third decade on 301. So now we both have 400 before 40 firmly in our sights, with Tom holding a 47 species and two year advantage. I’d better get my skates on. 

Northumberland provides again

On Thursday RBA was showing three "starred" species for the north east; long-billed dowitcher, Coues' arctic redpoll and black scoter... I wasn't going to pass up on this one. Unfortunately Tom wasn't able to come up for a run around in the north, but James of Common by Nature was well up for a twitch.

After a hellish drive up, I finally picked up James at 9 am (practically dusk) and we bundled for our first target bird - arctic redpoll. The car park only had four cars in when we arrived and there were no birders in attendance. Apparently this little gem had lost its initial shine.

We got to the game cover, but there wasn't a single finch in sight. The wind was blowing a hoolie, and everything was hunkered well into cover. Then, bang, a flock of 18 redpoll flew over, battling in the breeze, refusing to decide on a place to settle. We watched the whirl and prayed that they'd land close by.

As soon as they did, the little snowy bird shone out amongst its drabber cousins. Not bad for 15 minutes work. We snapped a few pictures of the little birds as they were buffeted. Occasionally the would drop down to the field edge to feed, then they'd pick up and wheel above us, always returning to the fence. Job done, on to our next bird, hopefully bobbing on the sea north of Bamburgh Castle...

Sticks out a bit doesn't it!

Not quite the clear shots that others have gotten...

Pulling up at Stag Rocks and setting up the scopes, we quickly located a feeding flock of common scoter and frantically tried to check every bill in the rising swell; but to no avail. We began to pan for more ducks, picking up long-tail, eider and a velvet scoter flying north. Then we caught sight of another three scoter closer to the shore, one with a whacking great yellow/orange lump to the bill.

There is a bit of debate about this bird at the moment, but the bird we saw had the characteristic wide bill with brighter, more orangey, colouration. I even managed a closer view using another birder's shiny new Kowa, and he seemed pretty convinced too. If there hadn't been all the chatter around it, I'd have been happy to tick it (perhaps I should forget my relative new-ness to the game, who says they were even looking at the same bird!?).

We watched the scoter for a while, but there wasn't much else moving on the sea. Then we checked the alerts... Penduline tit at Saltholme... What?... I threw the phone to James so that he could see I wasn't joking, started the car and headed south.

Passing Cresswell we nipped in for the dowitcher. The tits hadn't been seen since their first appearance and we gambled that we'd have the time to add it to our year lists. Well the wader was nowhere to be seen, but we were entertained by a marsh harrier that had successfully knocked off a teal and was trying to pluck and eat it before the crows could get a look in.

Still, there was no dowitcher, and we decided it was tine to move on. A quick look in at QE2 park to check on the Iceland gull (absent) and to drop James off at home, then I was though the tunnel and on my way to Saltholme... Sadly the penduline tits did not reappear, but I hold out hope for tomorrow.

Guest post by the other BlondeBirder: Thomas Christian

Nat's note: I have to guiltily admit that Tom sent me this over a month ago and I've not gotten around to posting it. I can only apologise to both he and you... Enjoy!


Although I love Christmastime, through all the turkey, chocolate and comatose family members I couldn't help eyeing the RBA and Birdguides updates thinking “I only have a few days left off work...” so at the first opportunity I set out, at 5am on the 28th December. My initial targets were the Dusky Warbler and Glossy Ibis that had been at Ham Wall RSPB in Somerset all week. In the back of my mind I knew there had been a Cattle Egret at Steart Marshes WWT nearby too. All three species would be lifers for me.

Now I've always considered myself a birder first and not just another twitcher, but with a full time job and me and Nat's shared target of 400 species by age 40 I have to admit I now plan my birding days around specific species and I'm happy to travel a few hundred miles in one day to get them. These trips have had mixed results, including a 400 mile round trip to see exactly zero Long-billed Dowichers, but I usually come home with at least one new species.

So on this surprisingly mild late-December morning I set off, with a belly full of toast, a tank full of diesel and a head full of potentially misplaced optimism. I arrived into the car park at Ham Wall RSPB at around 7:30am, just after sunrise. I was a little surprised to see around five cars already parked up. I checked my phone and the most recent update online was that the Dusky Warbler was still present at 7:20am! I grabbed my kit out of the boot and headed into the reserve.

I passed a fellow birder who was walking out of the reserve and asked if there was anything about (ALWAYS ask every birder you pass – there's nothing like knowledge on the ground when it comes to locating birds), he confirmed that the Dusky was “showing well” and pointed me in the right direction. My heart skipping I headed deeper into the reserve and found a flock of around 10-15 birders all looking into a bank of trees and scrub on the other side of a narrow canal. Apparently the bird had been showing well but had flown into the scrub and hadn't even called for the past ten minutes. My heart sank...was this another Long-billed Dowicher?

I remembered that a Glossy Ibis had been around too and asked about that. I was told it was only 50 metres or so further along the canal, in a small lagoon feeding on one of the reed-covered islands. As I felt the Dusky was going to be skulking unseen for some time I headed towards the lagoon and joined a birding couple who were already looking over the pool. I asked if they'd seen anything and they said they were “just watching the Glossy Ibis.” Bingo! I set up my scope and there it was, lazily mooching through the mud at the edge of the reeds next to some Lapwings. I took a few freehand photos on my phone through my scope (I don't possess the photographic skill of Natalie I'm afraid) and then headed back to the clump of Dusky-hunters.

Tom's Glossy

Whilst waiting and casually scanning the relevant scrub I was approached by a familiar face – it was a birder from Stafford who Nat and I had met at the Rough-legged Buzzards in Choseley on our Norfork trip! No matter how far you travel when birding it really is a small world. Mid-way through mutually moaning about the dipped Red-rumped Swallow someone piped up “It's calling!” Everyone froze and listened to the Dusky Warbler, its call sounds like a Wren but much quieter and much more intermittent. The now 20-or-so of us followed the sound through the scrub before it suddenly jumped onto an exposed bit of fern before almost immediately flitting onto a tree trunk covered in ivy. I managed to get it in my bins as it climbed up the ivy, I could see a typical Phylloscopus warbler but very brown, I couldn't make out the pale supercillium at this angle though. It reached the top of the ivy and flew left onto a bare branch, its head was obscured so I still couldn't get the supercillium, but I could see its uniform warm brown upperparts and it's pale grey underparts very nicely. The ID was greatly helped by the fact it was happily calling away the whole time it was visible. It then shot left behind another tree and vanished.

Amazing! Two lifers and I'd only been here about 45 minutes. I waited another 30 minutes to see if the Dusky would reappear during which time birders who had been saying “was that it? I only saw it for 5 seconds” were now saying “What a great bird, I'm so glad it showed so well!” From what I'd gathered from the local birders, 5-10 second bursts between 2-3 hour waits had been typical for this bird. I figured as it was only about 9.30am now I should definitely try for the Cattle Egret at Steart Marshes WWT. I jumped in the car and got over to the bank of the Severn Estuary in about 40 minutes.

My previous experience of Steart Marshes was that it was a brand new reserve still being developed but covered by a network of boardwalks and landscaped paths. Based on this I kept my trainers on and walked towards the one part of the reserve I hadn't yet been to. The one part of the reserve that had not yet been covered in a boardwalk or landscaped path... One sodden gangrenous kilometre later I found four Welsh birders also looking for the Cattle Egret. We teamed up and headed deeper (in more ways than one) into the marsh. We spotted a group of Egrets in a field at the far end of the marsh. We set up scopes and within a few seconds one of the Welsh contingent picked out the Cattle Egret, we all got it in our scopes and I took a few more wobbly shots through mine. This was the best day's solo birding I'd had, potentially ever! I checked the time and it was just after twelve. Three lifers in one morning!

Tom's C.Egret... At least my envy is slightly assuaged by this rubbish record shot

The birding gods were clearly shining on me so...it's almost like I was being told to keep going, right? I checked the reports on my wade back to the car to see what was within an hour's drive and saw there was Ferruginous Duck down in Hampshire, lots of Great White Egrets and an American Wigeon down in Exmouth. I've seen a Fudge Duck and Great White Egrets before but American Wigeon would be new, plus I'd seen that it had been seen there for around a month. That's it, after the walk back to the car I should get down there by 2pm, enough time to find it before the light fades. So by 1pm I was back on the M5 for its final 50 miles to Exeter.

The American Wigeon had been at Exminster Marshes RSPB for the past three weeks but apparently it had moved to Bowling Green Marsh RSPB that morning. I'd not been to either reserve before so I didn't know what to expect or how difficult it would be to locate a single bird. My sat-nav took me to a very narrow road round the back of a residential street. There was a surprising number of walkers on the road, and I got the impression cars weren't really meant to be going down there so I found a soft verge out of the way and parked up.

The RSPB reserve consists of one hide overlooking a wide, waterlogged field. On the walk back to the hide from the car I found a flock of Brent Geese and had a look through just in case there were any interesting subspecies, none there but I've always liked Brent Geese. There were a couple more gaps in the hedge on the walk to the hide through which I could see groups of Wigeon. I picked through them but couldn't find any star-spangled or gun-toting ones so moved on. I reached the hide which had a full glass front and a small education room (closed as there were no volunteers at this time of year) and set up my scope. There were two families in there and two more experienced looking birders. I asked the nearest birder if he'd seen the American Wigeon and he said “I've been looking for it all afternoon and I just found it as you walked in, do you wanna look?” What is happening today?! Four fairly easy lifers and not a single dip; I wish I could bottle this! After half an hour of enjoying the Wigeon and taking a few more freehand shots on my phone I packed up and headed back to the M5. Days like this make it all worthwhile, and takes me to 242 species, so just 35 more days like this and I've got the magic 400.

Another one Tom has that Nat doesn't...

Ending the Year

After the usual unsuccessful attempt at Hawfinch on my birthday (the big three-"o"), there wasn't much opportunity for birding before returning to York. So by the morning of the 31st I was keen to get out and about, and was in my car by 7:45. Hartlepool first for black-throated diver. I was expecting the cold and the wind. I wasn't expecting a slightly emotional meeting with an old friend. 

Aora, the University Marine Biological Station's largest research vessel, has been working out of Hartlepool since she was sold off. Somehow I didn't twig that she would be there when I was out birding. She was the first thing I saw when I parked up, and I couldn't grab my camera and scope fast enough as I shot out of the car. Aside from the change to the registration she looked just the same, but I couldn't help but give her a full check over with the scope; so engrossed I nearly missed the diver feeding of her port side. 

Still Beautiful

Low light and a fair amount of chop

From Hartlepool I headed up to Widdrington in search of the Bewick's that had been seen the previous day, but driving along the side of the lake I could see no sign of anything swanny on the water. I pulled up next to the lone car in the car park, dragged out my scope, and set up on the windy shoreline. Nothing on the water (besides goldeneye, gadwall and mallard), and only a juvenile mute swan on the bank. The couple from the par car joined me and also set up scope and then a third car appeared and together we gazed over grey water. I had the usual "unusual to see a girl birder" talk with one half of the couple that were in the first car, before checking my phone to see that two Bewick's had been seen at Grindon Lough, over an hour's drive away. 

Dejectedly I swung my scope to the far shore in order to look over one of the flooded areas behind the lake-proper, landing it straight onto the great northern diver that had been seen earlier in the day. Calling it, I was complimented on the keenness of my eyesight; I was so miffed about the swans that I decided to take the compliment rather then admit to my total luck. Eventually the others left and I decided to walk further up the lake to try and get a view on the obscured near shore, as I did so a second birder pulled up and asked what I'd had. I complained about the Bewick's and pointed out the rough direction of the great northern; he headed down to the car park and I carried on to set up at the new vantage point. I picked up the GN diver again, but still no swans. Sod this, off to Grindon.

After a pretty uneventful drive I arrived at the lough at noon. A couple of birders were there and reported seeing a few swans tucked behind a rise in one of the flooded areas (around 5 birds), but not being sure of their identity due to the distance. As they spoke one bird swam out - a juv mute - and my heart sank. 

I rearranged the scope so that I could sit in the car out of the chilly wind, and soon another 3 mutes appeared. Urgh. Looking back another birder was parked about 200 meters behind, doing exactly the same as me. I contemplated walking out to get a decent back view on the bank, but didn't fancy the breeze and sat tight. Then finally, thankfully, after 15 more frustrating minutes, two more swan heads appeared. Smaller swan heads, with beaks that looked entirely black at the distance.

I hoped out of the car to re-sight the scope and the red car behind me drove up to park just behind mine. And there they were, two diminutive little swans. Too far for a decent shot even through the scope. But undeniably themselves. Finally my stomach rebelled at the lack of food on offer and I decided to head for home. Two birds better off before the new year. 

I'm still hoping for that 400 by 40 target, only 176 to go....

Swan-like blurry things

Swan-like blurry things next to a larger mute-swan-like blurry thing

Norfolk Madness - 04:45 is a terrible thing

This weekend fellow blonde birder, Tom, and I decided on a day in Norfolk to mop up some winter migrants. The reports had been coming in all week and we were even more sure than normal that the working year couldn't end soon enough. The plan was to hit as many sites as we could, before dark, then Welney for tea and floodlit swans.

We were into the car at the god-awful time of 5 am and arrived at Holme at 7:30 (where there had been reports of shore lark the previous day). As we worked our way out along the spit there wasn't a thing moving, we were the only things daft enough to be out at that hour. The wind was battering through but the light was good. As we made it to the end of the point - at about 8:15 - a few bits and bobs were starting to move. Then, disaster. Three shapes lifted ahead of us and made of in the direction of the marsh. Three lark-like shapes. 

We settled in for a long wait on the leeward side of the sand dunes; ducking low out of the wind. But thankfully, suddenly, they returned; calling as they passed over head, before settling back in the same scrub as they had appeared from, and proceeded to pick through the dead vegetation. Once fully awake they were more tolerant of people, allowing passing dog walkers within 50 meters and letting me get a few snaps.

Shore lark trio

From there we went to Choseley, ticking of the lingering rough-legged buzzards, then on to Titchwell in search of water pipit. We picked up the birds but, after leaving, found out that the bloody red-rumped swallow had been at the other end of the reserve while we were there. After Titchwell we headed over to Cley for a rattle round before dark, grabbing snow bunting, but with no sign of the phalarope that had been seen again in the morning. The light dropping and hungry and sleepiness rising, we headed for much needed chips, then swans, then another 3 hour drive back to Sutton Coldfield and some well earned rest...

After sleeping for 11 hours I decided to have a run at the hoopoe in Kingswinford. Regular readers will know that I spectacularly dipped on hoopoe two years ago - running for a bird in Dumfrieshire - so I was pretty determined to bag this one. Arriving on site there were a few other birders about ready to wander in; they had been told the bird was about and showing well, so we hurried onward together.

There were a few other local birders on point when we arrived and, as usual, the blasted bird had just flown. Into the trees at the bottom end of the field in this case. After standing for a minute of two, one of the locals offered to walk down the slope to locate it. Minutes later he was pointing us into one of the fenced areas. 

We walked across but couldn't locate the bird in the scrub. Just as we settled in to wait it helpfully flew to a conspicuous spot in the trees behind. Sitting for a while in full view before returning to vanish in the dense, tussocky grass. For a while I stood with the others, racked with guilt over the lunch that I was about to be late for. After a few more minutes of grass obscured snaps, I caved and packed up for the drive home - calling the weekend at 4 new species.

Not living up to its friendly rep

Best view before the drive home

Crag Martin at the Crooked Spire

After moving back to York a month ago, I finally got the opportunity to get to Spurn for the weekend, just in time for the tail end of the hurricane to hit the UK. Arriving at 10:30 I nipped into the wetlands, stopping at the car park for a while to watch a short eared owl quartering the field across the road. From the hide there was only a dunlin, redshank, and a flock of brent geese, and after 20 minutes I decided to head down to the reserve. 

There wasn't much moving there either and the clouds were brooding. I wandered down the point past the wash-over, but the beach was bare and the waders well dispersed over the exposed mud, so I turned back north. As I walked between sea-watch and the Blue Bell I could see another SEO over Canal Scrape, but aside from a couple of goldcrests at beacon lane, that was as fun as it got. I forged onwards to the lagoons, hoping for snow bunting on the beach, but no luck; then the rain hit, and I enjoyed a damp half hour trudge back to the obs. The persisted brizzle was quick to soak me through and turn my thoughts first to hot drinks and drying off, then to curries and pints.

Sunday started dismally; as the rain tailed of at 9 the next morning we stood on the cliff top, counting through the siskin, goldfinch, redpoll and twite. There was little moving on the sea, just a few divers and auks, but I did pick up my first little gull on the Humber. All last week I had been looking at the reports of crag martin at Chesterfield, but had not had the opportunity to get on the road. After fidgetting at sea-watch for half an hour in the hope of something exciting I cracked, said goodbye to everyone, and hopped into the car. 

Two hours later I'd parked the car and found the small crowd off birders at the church. As I arrived one car was leaving for the stadium, where the bird had been most recently sighted, but it suddenly appeared round a building and began circling the church.

I watched the bird for just over an hour as it made quick passes around the crooked spire, only once vanishing across to the stadium. Luckily the rain held off, but unfortunately for me the bird was just to fast for me and my poor camera. I did get a couple of records, but none of the real super-shots that I saw on the LCD's of some of my fellow twitchers. Still, one closer to 400!

Tail spots just visible

Buff under-side

The Brampton Bee-Eaters

On the way back from York I decided to nip in on the bee-eaters that set up home just outside Carlisle. Two pairs had set up burrows amongst a thriving colony of 500 sand martins in an active quarry. The RSPB had wisely suppressed their presence until the eggs hatched, however, one of the nests failed due to a cliff slide. Since news of the nest was released the remaining pair and their helper had been incredibly popular.

When I arrived today the quarry couldn't have been more like the Mediterranean; the weather was warm and windless and the steep quarry sides radiated the heat back - it was baking. In my eagerness to get to the view point I passed three groups of slogging birders heading up the slope, and by the time I reached the first stop I was toasted. 

Happily, one bird dropped in as soon as I arrived, and the adults were visiting the nest every 10 minutes or so. Not only that, we had great views of a hobby hunting martins over the quarry. I snapped away for an hour before heading back to the car for the last 4 hours in the car.

The pictures aren't amazing as the birds kept their distance from our side of the valley, but the views were great.