Isombridge, Ryton Pools & Brandon Marsh :: 17 March 2026

The taiga bean goose has a relatively recent yet highly significant history at Slamannan in central Scotland, where it now represents one of Britain’s most important wintering goose populations. Historically, taiga bean geese wintered more widely across Scotland, but numbers declined sharply during the twentieth century as a result of habitat change and broader population decreases across Europe. By the late twentieth century, Scotland’s remaining birds were largely confined to Carron Valley in Stirlingshire, where a peak count of 122 birds was recorded in the winter of 1987–88. During the late 1980s, small numbers began appearing on the nearby Slamannan Plateau, marking the beginning of a major shift in wintering distribution.

Through the early 1990s, the entire Scottish flock gradually relocated from Carron Valley to Slamannan. By this time, annual monitoring programmes had begun, with the flock numbering roughly 130–150 birds, and Slamannan becoming Scotland’s only regular wintering site for the species.

My brother and his wife moved from Glasgow to Croy last year, and I had hoped to fit in a visit to see the flock while we were in Scotland in February, as I had never encountered the species before and the site lies only about fifteen minutes from where he lives. In the end, however, my brother travelled down to the coast to visit us, and an unplanned trip to the Highlands followed before we returned home, meaning we never managed to add the bean geese to our holiday list.

The reported sighting of a taiga bean goose at Isombridge in Shropshire immediately caught Kev’s @kev07713 and my attention, and we soon hatched a plan to go and see it. It’s a superb species to encounter in the UK, and one located just a couple of hours from home was too good an opportunity to miss. We set off along a familiar route towards North Wales - a road well known to us from our annual trips to see grouse - but this time stopped short of the moorland, parking instead along quiet farmland lanes bordered by hedgerows.

A couple of other birders pulled in behind us and joined us scanning the fields, though initially we couldn’t locate any geese. Rather oddly, they soon returned to their car and drove off just as we decided to walk down towards the pools, where the distant sound of calling geese could be heard. A jay flew through as we made our way down.

At the pools we found plenty of Canada geese, constantly on the move, some hopping between pools while others lifted off to feed in surrounding fields, but our target bird was nowhere among them. We headed back to the road to view the area marked by the previous day’s BirdGuides pin, squeezing between a line of trees and a barbed-wire fence to set up our scopes.

After a short while scanning, we picked up three geese feeding several fields away in longer grass. The report had mentioned the taiga bean goose associating with two pink-footed geese, and with two pink-foots clearly visible, these seemed promising. The third bird, however, was partly obscured. When it finally walked into the open, the reality became clear - it was a greylag. Damn.

Now set up, Kev scanned back along the fenceline and picked up a fourth bird, partly obscured and previously overlooked as we had assumed the greylag was our target. Through the scopes it quickly became clear that this was indeed the bird we had come for.

The taiga bean goose is a large goose, slightly bigger and noticeably longer-necked than a pink-footed goose. It shows a strong, elongated profile, with a fairly long neck, gently sloping forehead, and substantial body. The head appears angular rather than rounded, giving the bird an alert, purposeful expression, and it looked tall and upright when standing.

Overall, the plumage was a cold grey brown. The upperparts were dark brown with pale feather fringes that created a scaled appearance, while the underparts appeared paler grey with darker barring along the flanks. The head and neck were darker than the body, giving a subtly hooded look. The bill, one of the key identification features, was long and mostly dark with a broad orange band across the middle. In taiga bean goose this orange band is typically extensive, though variable between individuals, and the bill often looks long and parallel-sided rather than stubby. The legs and feet were bright orange.

The bird had originally been reported as a tundra bean goose, one of many that have visited the UK this winter, but photographs later posted online led to its reidentification as a taiga bean goose.

We spent some time photographing and watching the geese as they fed and rested in the grass below us, gradually working their way to the right and eventually disappearing behind a denser stand of trees. By now the pink-foots had rejoined the taiga, while the greylag had drifted off elsewhere. Once the birds slipped out of view, we took it as our cue to move on.

As we walked back towards the car, who should arrive but Adrian Sparrowhawk and Bryan Manston, our friends from Banbury and Didcot. After sharing the bird’s location with them, we left them to it and headed off to search for a hoopoe that had been reported nearby, somewhere between the farm and the village, though it hadn’t been seen the previous day. Despite a thorough search, we came up empty-handed - the bird has most likely moved on.

Having enjoyed success with the taiga, we discussed our next move and decided on a visit to Ryton Pools. Kev hadn’t seen a ferruginous duck yet this year, and a smew had recently begun to be reported there again, a bird I had missed on my previous visit. We arrived, parked up, and agreed to look for the birds before stopping for lunch at the Visitor Centre.

It’s a relatively short walk from the car park to Paget’s Pool, where both the ferruginous duck and smew are usually reported, and along the way I allowed myself a small hope of encountering a bullfinch - though it wasn’t to be. Instead, we came across a flock of Hebridean sheep grazing quietly in a field beside the path.

The Hebridean sheep is a striking and ancient breed, instantly recognisable by its jet-black fleece and impressive multiple horns, often four in number, which sweep outward and curl elegantly around the head. Small but robust, it has a compact, primitive build well suited to harsh upland and island environments, reflecting its origins in the Hebrides of western Scotland. The coarse, dark wool and alert, narrow-faced expression give the animal a distinctly wild appearance compared with modern farm breeds. Highly hardy and adaptable, Hebridean sheep thrive on rough grazing and are now widely used in conservation projects, where their natural browsing helps maintain species-rich grassland and open landscapes.

We reached Paget's Pool and scanned the water, eventually spotting the ferruginous duck again, though at a considerable distance - first from the viewing platform and later from the track running along the pool’s edge. The bird seemed determined to keep its distance, always staying beside or beyond the tree-covered island that separates this side from the open water. While seeing this bird was the main reason for our visit, we also hoped to find a smew, and it didn’t take long. From the hide, I was joined by a woman who had seen the redhead from the next viewing platform. As I stepped outside to tell Kev, he said that he had just located it diving in the narrows.

At first, we could catch glimpses of the redhead smew through the trees along the water’s edge. By the time we moved to the viewing platform, however, we had uninterrupted views as the bird dived repeatedly in the narrows right in front of us - so close that we could often see her clearly beneath the surface.

A female (redhead) smew is a striking small diving duck, quite distinct from the male. Her overall plumage is a soft grey, with warm reddish-brown on the head fading into a pale, subtle throat. The body is pale grey with slightly darker flanks, and her wings show fine white edging that are more noticeable in flight. Compared to the boldly patterned black-and-white male, the female is understated yet elegant, blending soft earthy tones with subtle contrasts.

She is an adept diver, hunting small fish and invertebrates, and here we watched her successfully bring up both great-crested and smooth newts, a display of her skill and feeding behaviour.

The smew made its way back along the narrows into the larger pool, and we followed. Eventually, we returned to the hide, where we also spotted a buzzard on the far bank, busy with its prey - though what it was eating remained a mystery.

Eventually, we returned to the Visitor Centre and ordered some sandwiches for lunch. While waiting, we were scrolling on our phones when Kev spotted a post from Alan Boddington @alanbodd, noting that the garganey from the day before had been refound on East Marsh Pool. After finishing lunch, we jumped in the car and drove the short seven minutes to Warwickshire Wildlife Trust’s Brandon Marsh reserve, hoping the bird would stick around this time.

Passing through the Visitor Centre, we bumped into Alan Boddington, who mentioned it had been a surprise to see the garganey again, as everyone had been searching for it the day before but there they were, back on East Marsh Pool. We hurried through the reserve to the John Walton Hide, which overlooks the pool and the reeds where the pair had been active. As we settled in, I realised that beside me was Dennis Woodward @DennisW500, whom we hadn’t seen since Pitsford Reservoir last year when searching for the American golden plover. He mentioned we’d arrived at just the right moment - the pair had cruised into the bay after being out of view for a short while and were now busy feeding together.

Garganey are primarily dabbling ducks, feeding mostly at or near the water’s surface rather than diving. They tip forward in the water, submerging their head and neck while keeping their tail raised, allowing them to reach aquatic plants, seeds, and invertebrates just below the surface. Their diet includes aquatic insects, larvae, crustaceans, molluscs, and seeds, with insects and small invertebrates being especially important during the breeding season. Garganey can also take small amphibians, such as tadpoles or newts, when foraging in shallow water.

By mid-March, many garganey have formed pairs. A male and female are often seen feeding and moving closely together. At this stage, pair bonds are strong, but they are not yet involved in nest-building. In the UK, most March sightings are migrants passing through on their way north. Pairs may form at stopover sites, feeding together and resting, but they typically continue to breeding grounds further east or north. Reserves such as Brandon Marsh in the Midlands serve as important refuelling and resting sites rather than likely breeding sites.

However, garganey are confirmed as a rare breeding duck in Britain with an estimated 100–120 pairs nesting each year in suitable wetland habitats, including shallow marshes and flooded grasslands in central, southern, and eastern England. Because these birds are secretive and remain within dense vegetation during the breeding season, their numbers are difficult to monitor, and confirmed nests or broods are often hard to document.

The UK’s Rare Breeding Birds Panel includes garganey on its list of regularly reported breeding species, highlighting their status as a rare breeder rather than just a migrant. Nationally, breeding records are most frequent in areas such as the Ouse Washes, Norfolk Broads, Somerset Levels, and parts of eastern England, where extensive shallow wetlands provide ideal conditions.

After feeding for a while, the birds drifted further out into the bay and began preening and washing in the deeper water. The garganey often dipped repeatedly into the water, sometimes quite vigorously, flapping and creating splashes that helped loosen dirt and parasites before preening. The male was particularly energetic, frequently tipping forward and performing partial somersaults, submerging his head and neck while keeping his feet raised skyward - an entertaining display that he repeated at least half a dozen times.

After spending some time watching the garganey pair, we returned to the car and headed home, content with having seen a lifer, Kev finally catching up with the “fudge duck", and connecting with garganey that I’d/we'd missed on previous days. Another great day out.

Year list: 197.

Cambridgeshire & Summer Leys :: 14 March 2026

On Friday evening, Kev @kev07713 and I put together a shortlist of potential destinations for Saturday, eventually settling on a trip into Cambridgeshire where several target birds promised the makings of a good day out. Our plan was to visit WWT Welney for the first time this year, but with the reserve not opening until 9.30am, we decided to begin at RSPB Ouse Fen in the hope of locating bearded tits; the forecast of sunny skies and relatively calm conditions looked very much in our favour.

March is often an excellent time to look for bearded tits; as winter gives way to spring, birds begin pairing up and establishing territories, becoming noticeably more vocal and mobile. Their distinctive calls carry clearly across the reedbeds, making them far easier to locate than during the quieter mid-winter months. At this time of year, they also climb higher up reed stems while feeding or keeping contact with their partner or group, rather than remaining hidden low in dense cover. Having spent much of the winter feeding discreetly on reed seeds, they are gradually switching to a more insect-based diet as spring approaches, encouraging increased movement and providing birders with far better chances of prolonged views.

We arrived and, almost as soon as we stepped onto the reserve, were welcomed by the sounds of Cetti’s warblers, little grebes and reed buntings carrying across the reedbeds. A couple of chaps had set off ahead of us, and it wasn’t long before we caught up with them hanging around in the area we’d expected to be best for beardies, and a spot where we’d encountered them before. They were using the Merlin app on a phone to listen for our target species, but Kev and I soon picked up the unmistakable “pinging” of a bird in the reeds nearby. Before we could pin it down, it lifted and flew left, dropping back into the reeds not far from where we stood. We managed to follow it in flight and, fortunately, the bird - a smart male - climbed high enough up a reed stem to give us good views, while our companions took a little longer to get onto it as I fired off a few photos. It then flew right and dropped from sight.

We continued along the trail, encountering half a dozen more birds, though none showed long enough for a photograph. They constantly gave away their presence with calls, only to slip quickly through the dense reeds before we could properly locate them. As we searched, we came across several reed buntings feeding busily on seeds, working either the reed heads or bulrush, sending white cottony fluff drifting into the air as they teased seeds from the down.

Overhead passed two common cranes eventually dropping from view. The common crane now has a small but significant presence at RSPB Ouse Fen Reserve; its status there is best described as locally established but still scarce and sensitive. The reserve typically holds a single breeding pair, with conservation reports noting a pair present annually, indicating the site is now suitable habitat rather than just a stopover location.

On previous visits at this time of year we have almost always seen or heard bitterns, occasionally encountering as many as four together, so their complete absence today came as something of a surprise. Despite the sunny conditions, there was neither sight nor sound of them and this felt particularly notable given recent visits to sites such as RSPB Otmoor, where at least five booming males entertained me a couple of weeks ago.

Having completed our circuit, we decided to head for WWT Welney, which would be open by the time we arrived. The journey passed uneventfully, and we pulled into the car park to the sound of chattering house sparrows accompanied by the explosive song of a Cetti’s warbler. As we approached the entrance boardwalk, another Cetti’s warbler flew up from the reed edge into a tree on the left, hopping restlessly among the denser branches. It stayed there for several minutes and, while we enjoyed good binocular views, photographing it proved frustrating, though we eventually managed a few shots. Unsurprisingly, it wouldn’t be the last Cetti’s warbler we heard that day.

We scanned the feeders beside the Visitor Centre, hoping to pick out a tree sparrow among the up to 50 house sparrows surrounding them - some feeding openly while others perched in the nearby gorse bushes. The flock seemed nervous, repeatedly retreating into the scrub as though a predator were nearby, despite none ever appearing.

Eventually we headed inside the centre, ordered a coffee, and settled in to watch from the balcony, waiting for a tree sparrow to appear. Tree sparrows at WWT Welney Wetland Centre are locally regular but highly site-dependent, and the reserve has long been one of the more reliable places in southern Britain to see the species. Now a Red List farmland bird in the UK following a severe long-term decline, tree sparrows persist mainly in small, localised colonies rather than the widespread populations of the past.

Sightings reports usually note their presence rather than specific numbers, but recent observations have been somewhat concerning. A friend visiting not long before us reported seeing only three birds, and despite spending a good amount of time watching the feeders, we managed to find just one - a noticeable reduction compared with previous visits. Perhaps even here the species is beginning to feel increasing pressure.

Having seen reports of a pair of garganey at the Lyle Hide the previous day, we headed out onto the reserve, immediately noticing the much higher water levels. We paused briefly at the main observatory, taking in the impressive numbers of ducks gathered on the water alongside substantial flocks of black-tailed godwits. Small groups of dunlin moved constantly around the wetlands, regularly lifting and dropping in among the larger gatherings of godwits. Buzzards perched and drifted along the far side of the water, occasionally sending flocks of teal swirling into the air.

Continuing on, we made our way towards the Nelson–Lyle Hide (formerly the Buxton Hide) and carefully scanned the areas where the garganey had been reported, though despite our efforts we came up empty-handed. Flocks of ducks and waders stretched right across the view in front of us, but we concentrated our attention on the shallower margins and feeding areas where the garganey were most likely to be feeding or hiding.

We relocated to the Lyle Hide and found only one person in residence and Kev and I decided to stake out opposite ends of the hide to give larger coverage in our search. I found a single snipe, a few redshanks, more black-tailed godwits and a whooper swan. WWT Welney has long been a vital haven for whooper swans and other waterbirds with the wintering population of whooper swans in the UK almost doubled in the last 25 years.

While the swans’ presence is always a cause for celebration, this season has also faced challenges, with outbreaks of avian influenza affecting waterbirds at Welney and across the UK. Visitors are encouraged to enjoy the swans responsibly and follow any guidance from the centre to keep both wildlife and people safe. Notably, WWT Welney has recorded breeding whooper swans, a rare but documented occurrence in the UK. Although most whooper swans normally migrate north in spring to Iceland, Scandinavia, or Russia to breed, some pairs have successfully nested on the Ouse Washes, meaning a few birds may remain through the summer.

From the far end of the hide, Kev called out that he could see an otter. He shared the news with the half-dozen or so people who had gathered, and I quickly made my way over. The otter swam out into the channel and dived, resurfacing closer to the bank before turning and heading in our direction. Then, without warning, a second otter appeared alongside the first - there were two!

As we watched, the pair reached the bank and seemed to be feeding on small fish and after a about 30 seconds, a third otter surfaced nearby. What a treat. Otter litters usually consist of two or three cubs, which remain with their mother for up to a year, sometimes longer. For this reason, sightings of three or four otters together are often family groups. In late winter and early spring, cubs born the previous season are growing rapidly, and mothers can often be seen teaching them to hunt and fish. Now firmly re-established on the Ouse Washes, these top wetland predators are reportedly seen occasionally from the reserve’s hides, more often at dawn or dusk. Their presence is a sign of improving wetland health, as otters depend on clean water, plentiful fish, and undisturbed habitat, to thrive.

The otters eventually swam across the channel and climbed onto the bank, breaking into an energetic run before disappearing behind a screen of reeds that largely blocked our view - and any further photographs. Well, not entirely: Kev still managed to snap a few shots as one of the otters caught another fish, later identified from the images as a roach, having initially being thought to be a perch.

The otters slipped from view and the excitement in the hide gradually faded, until another call went up that a couple had reappeared out in front. They were utterly charming, huddled together on the bank for a minute or so before suddenly breaking into a run straight towards us. Reaching the edge of the channel, they paused only briefly before diving beneath the water and vanishing once more.

Although typically active at night, otters often become diurnal in quiet wetlands or where they feel safe and this likely explains why daytime sightings, while special, are not unusual. Otters don’t just swim - they commute, regularly travelling 10–20 km in a night along waterways. The individuals seen at Welney may range across large parts of the Ouse Washes rather than living only within the reserve. Adult otters eat roughly 1–1.5 kg of food per day with fish making up most of their diet, especially slow or abundant species such as roach, eel, and sticklebacks.

Otters are now a quiet conservation success story across the Fens. Once absent from much of eastern England, they have returned as water quality improved and wetlands were restored. Their presence at Welney is probably more often detected by ripples, tracks or spraints than by direct sightings, making every encounter feel especially rewarding.

We continued our search for the garganey, but it was never seen by us, or by anyone else, that day or in the days that followed, suggesting it had likely already moved on. We returned to the Visitor Centre for a spot of lunch and, while there, watched a lone common crane drop in at some distance from the centre.

Back at the car, we decided to begin the journey home, with a planned stop at Wildlife BCN’s Summer Leys reserve, which is hardly a detour. Although there had been reports of a glossy ibis from the Reedbed Hide at Welney, reported sightings at Summer Leys have become almost a daily occurrence, making it well worth the visit.

Views of the glossy ibis are most often reported from the Screen Hide, and towards the feeder station, though it can presumably also be seen from the Paul Britten Hide - better known as the double-decker hide. With this in mind, we decided to skip the Pioneer Hide near the car park and head straight for the double-decker.

On the way, we noticed significant hedgerow management underway, with information boards explaining plans to benefit waders and ground-nesting species by reducing perching opportunities and cover for potential predators. We had hoped to find a bullfinch and did come across an old nest, but along the stretch where bullfinches have traditionally been most reliable, the hedge is now noticeably broken up. It will be interesting to see whether this has any impact on the species in the future.

From the double-decker hide we enjoyed views of all the usual and regular species, along with a couple of snipe, a single little ringed plover, and several oystercatchers. We scanned patiently for some time but eventually decided to move on to the area where the ibis is most frequently reported, near the feeder station, where we were entertained by four reed buntings feeding among the tits and finches.

There had been occasional reports of the ibis on the far side of the disused railway, feeding beside some of the flooded areas, so we walked over and carefully scanned the grassy margins and back across towards the main reserve. Despite our efforts, we came up empty-handed. I suggested that the quickest route back to the car would be to continue along the track and re-enter the reserve from the other side but Kev pointed out that taking the longer route would give us another chance to check the feeder area and the Screen Hide on the way back - a fair point, although with the time slipping away we would be cutting it fine.

Only a couple of minutes later, just as we turned to head back towards the car, Kev noticed a shadow pass overhead and looked up to see what had caused it. Sure enough, it was our glossy ibis. It landed beside a pair of Canada geese and immediately began feeding along the edge of a shallow pool that remained on the grassy area.

With the sun low and slightly behind the bird and to the left, the ibis was mostly cast in shadow from the only accessible gap in the hedge. Where sunlight did catch it, branches and twigs created frustrating interference, making clear views, and photographs, something of a challenge.

Having finally spent some time watching the ibis, I realised I had overstayed, which added a little pressure when I got home as we were due out with friends that evening. Still, I was confident they would accept my apology for arriving late.

On the Monday, while Charlotte was out, I saw an update reporting a pair of garganey at Brandon Marsh (the same pair that had been at Welney?), relatively local to Banbury. I quickly jumped in the car, but on arrival learned that the birds had already been lost. I joined others searching the reserve, hoping they might reappear, but there were no further sightings. Another miss - I wonder when my next chance will come?

Year list: 194.