Thursday, 19 March 2026

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.

Bearded tit
Bearded tit
Bearded tit

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.

Reed bunting

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.

Common crane

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.

Cetti's warbler
Cetti's warbler

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.

Tree sparrow

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.

Black-tailed godwit
Black-tailed godwit

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.

Whooper swan
Whooper swan

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.

Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter

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.

Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter
Otter

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.

Reed bunting

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.

Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis
Glossy ibis

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.

Thursday, 12 March 2026

Pilning Wetlands (Northwick Warth) :: 10 March 2026

The reappearance of the female hooded merganser at Pilning Wetlands (Northwick Warth) was one of those moments that ignites excitement. Having slipped through the net during its first stay - with Kev @kev07713, his wife Karen @karenheath62 and I arriving just after it had departed overnight - news of its return offered a welcome second chance, and one that was impossible to ignore. First seen at 11.45am and posted on BirdGuides eight minutes later, Kev’s WhatsApp message reached me at 11.57am, quickly followed by a call - and by 12.10pm we were already on the road, heading there separately as I had to get back home by 5.00pm as I was going out in the evening.

The female hooded merganser proved to be an exceptional visitor to Northwick Warth, drawing considerable attention from birders across the region. Native to North America, hooded mergansers are rare vagrants in Britain, making any occurrence noteworthy. There have been very few accepted records nationwide, which explains the level of interest surrounding this individual; as far as I can determine, only 16 records have been accepted in Britain to date, following assessment through the national rarities process by BBRC and BOURC, with many earlier reports rejected or considered likely escapees.

Historically, records of the species have often prompted debate due to its popularity in captivity. However, growing evidence of genuine transatlantic vagrancy eventually led to hooded merganser being accepted onto the British List.

The bird frequented the flooded gravel pits and surrounding wetland areas, often associating loosely with tufted duck, pochard and other diving wildfowl. Typically favouring quieter sections of open water, it spent much of its time diving actively for small fish and aquatic invertebrates, periodically resting along the margins and reeds.

Identification was straightforward thanks to its distinctive structure and plumage: a compact diving duck with a slender serrated bill, warm brown flanks, and the characteristic fan-shaped crest which could be raised into a striking swept-back shape - a great find by Andy Stockhausen (@andy-1963.bsky.social).

At times it had drifted with feeding flocks or disappeared behind reedbeds, leading to occasional anxious scans from assembled observers - on occasions it would fly out over the river, only to return. The bird’s disappearance after its initial stay of two days, followed now by its unexpected reappearance, only added to the sense of urgency.

As we set off at roughly the same time, it seemed inevitable we might meet enroute, and sure enough Kev soon appeared behind me, having caught up thanks to roadworks just outside Chipping Norton. We remained within sight of each other for most of the journey towards the M5, though I briefly pulled ahead after an overtake and then while Kev was delayed at a junction. Once on the motorway he caught me again, and I gave him a call to suggest he take the lead - my SatNav had decided I was somewhere in the middle of a field. The Audi MMI was clearly struggling to communicate with the GPS, and according to it I was cruising at around 18,500 feet - the car is scheduled to go in for diagnostics in a couple of week time. Not wanting to risk missing the final turn, and with time at a premium, it made far more sense to follow him in - I'd probably remember the route but no sense in taking risks.

As we arrived at the parking spot, a line of birders was already visible along the wall overlooking the three main pools where the bird had roamed during its previous visit.

Kev and Karen had parked further around the corner, and as I set off, I could see they were already striding ahead, knowing I would soon catch them up. It was only a couple of hundred metres before I joined them and we began scanning the line of birders - were they all facing the same direction, scopes trained, and cameras raised? Yes, yes, and yes. So far, so good.

As we approached, we received immediate confirmation that the bird was on the first pool, although diving frequently. It wasn’t long before we were onto it ourselves, enjoying a well-earned life tick - we'd clawed one back.

Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser

The merganser spent much of her time actively feeding, rarely remaining on the surface for long. Like other mergansers, she is a pursuit diver, propelling herself underwater with powerful kicks of her feet in search of prey. Most dives were relatively short, typically lasting 10–20 seconds, after which she would resurface briefly before disappearing again.

Hooded mergansers feed primarily on small fish, though aquatic invertebrates - including insect larvae, crustaceans and molluscs - also form an important part of the diet, particularly outside the breeding season. Her feeding pattern was methodical, often working a defined area of open water before drifting gradually with the other wildfowl. At times she associated loosely with tufted duck, though she tended to forage independently rather than synchronising dives with them.

The frequent diving meant views could be fleeting, adding a slight edge of anticipation each time she resurfaced - scanning the water to relocate her among the wintering duck. It also made taking videos difficult as there was little time to locate the bird, focus, and start recording, before she was diving again. When relocating it was amazing to the speed with which she motored across the water.

We were then treated to the bird half-climbing out of the water to begin preening, allowing for longer, more settled views through the scopes. I waited in hope of a wing-flap at the end of the preening session and, sure enough, she duly obliged. I managed to grab a few photos, though I later kicked myself for not increasing the frame rate - despite being largely prepared, the results were slightly disappointing, even if I did come away with a few usable shots.

Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser
Hooded merganser

A couple of the birders who had clearly been here for a while longer than us had strolled off to look on the other pool and reported that there were little ringed plovers on the near edge of the next pool. We quickly relocated there as they would be an early year tick for this species - we will see more in the coming weeks, but it is always good to catch an early one. There were reports of up to five, but when we looked there appeared to be two with at least three ringed plovers, one still in first-winter plumage.

Little ringed plover

Kev hadn’t been filming when the merganser performed its wing-flap, so he decided to stay a little longer in the hope of capturing the moment on video, while also later investigating the site for raptors - a male kestrel had already passed through - and perhaps finally connecting with his elusive merlin (though I later heard that species remains unfound). Meanwhile, I packed up and headed back on the road; the traffic was kind, and I made it home and through the door by the required 5.00pm.

Year list: 191.

Tuesday, 10 March 2026

Poole Park, and around :: 07 March 2026

A long-staying Forster’s tern has become something of a local celebrity along the Dorset coast in recent years. First discovered in Poole Harbour in April 2023, the bird caused a small twitch at the time as one of only a handful of records for Britain. What makes it even more remarkable is that the same individual has now returned each spring, with sightings again in 2024, 2025, and 2026, making this its fourth consecutive year back in Dorset.

It is reportedly believed to spend the winter in Brittany, France, the tern appears to have adopted a loose circuit between western Europe and the UK, occasionally wandering as far as Ireland before returning to its favoured haunts around Poole Harbour. Normally a North American breeder, Forster’s tern is a rare vagrant to Britain, so having one being faithful to this site is quite exceptional.

After its discovery in spring 2023, the Forster’s tern gradually became more predictable around Poole Harbour as the summer progressed. Although initially elusive, the bird eventually settled into a loose routine and was most frequently seen at several well-watched sites around the harbour:

  • Shipstal Point - by far the most reliable spot, with the tern often working offshore or roosting on posts and buoys.
  • Brownsea Lagoon - regularly used as a feeding and roosting area within the harbour.
  • Lytchett Bay / Lytchett Fields - where the bird was seen intermittently, particularly during early stages of its stay.
  • Marker buoys and posts around the harbour channels, where it frequently perched between feeding flights.

By late summer and autumn the tern was most consistently encountered off Shipstal Point (Kev and I visited in August 2023 - report here), often associating loosely with feeding flocks of other terns.

With its return this year, the bird has been seen and photographed in Poole Park, mainly around the main boating lake where it tends to move between a few favoured spots. Enticingly, it has been photographed perched on the short posts near the enclosed reedy area on the eastern edge of the lake. After discussing it with Kev @kev07713, we decided this would be a good opportunity to try for the bird while it was showing so reliably in one area, so we set off for Poole at around 5.30am, stopping for breakfast along the way.

We arrived at Poole Park only to discover that access to the park was restricted from 7.45–10.00am on Saturdays due to the weekly Poole Parkrun, which takes place around the boating lake. Pulling up briefly, we scanned across the water and could see a few birders already gathered on the far side. With no easy way in from where we were, we returned to the car and began plotting an alternative route to reach one of the other gates further around the park.

After a bit of rerouting we eventually found some roadside parking, paid the meter and started the walk back towards where the small group of birders were standing. From a distance there was little sign of any coordinated scanning or cameras pointing in one direction, suggesting the bird probably wasn’t present ... at least not yet.

We joined the small group of assembled birders, around ten in total, and almost immediately someone pointed out the Forster’s tern flying in from over the lake. Another birder turned to us and remarked that our timing couldn’t have been better, as this was the first sighting of the day, with some people having already waited two hours.

Later, one of the birders who had travelled down from Lowestoft mentioned that he had encountered the bird earlier out in Parkstone Bay. It had suddenly appeared in front of him, plunged straight into the water, and then flew directly over his head. A passing dog walker had then pointed him in the direction of the spot where we were now standing.

The bird soon settled on a line of posts, though initially hidden behind the reeds lining the edge of the pool, alongside several black-headed gull and a couple of common gulls. A few of the birders moved off to the left, walking out onto the end of a concrete structure so they could look back along the row of posts where the tern was perched.

Across the water we could see large numbers of people gathering for the parkrun and soon they were off and running around the park and the boating lake; this parkrun regularly hosts 800 to over 1,000 runners and is one of the larger events in the UK.

Before long, the Forster’s tern flew out and landed on a post beyond the reeds. Its arrival set off a small chain reaction among the gulls, each black-headed gull shuffling forward to the next perch in turn, creating a domino-like effect along the line of posts until the movement finally stopped at an empty one. By moving to the right, we were able to get a relatively clear view between the posts and settled beside a couple of birders. One of them turned out to be Scott Usher @SStanpit, whose posts and photos I had seen on social media before.

Forster's tern
Forster's tern
Forster's tern
Forster's tern
Forster's tern
Forster's tern
Forster's tern

In March, the Forster’s tern is in non-breeding plumage, with the black cap reduced to a small patch of grey on the crown but with distinct black feathers around the eyes, giving it a subtle masked appearance. The upperparts remain soft grey, the underparts white, and the slender bill is darker than in summer.

Its flight is light and agile, often hovering briefly over the water before plunging to snatch small fish, making it a graceful yet understated visitor compared with the striking plumage it shows in summer. As we continued watching, the bird eventually took flight, circling the pool before heading out over the lake and then departing with strong, purposeful wingbeats.

Forster's tern
Forster's tern

Only fifteen to twenty minutes later, the Forster’s tern returned, initially landing again on the far side of the reeds before moving to the same perch where we had observed it earlier.

Two sandwich terns dropped onto the posts; one perched out in the clear and not far from where the Forster's tern had been - another new species for the year. Sandwich tern typically return to Britain in March and April each year, arriving at their breeding colonies along the coast, with most of the first arrivals seen in southern and eastern England. This was a week or two earlier than I expected to see any so was a welcome surprise. Colonies are soon active, from April through July, with chicks appearing by late May or June.

Around Poole Harbour, sandwich terns nest in a few key colonies, usually on small islands and sheltered spits within the harbour. These are part of a network of coastal breeding sites in Dorset and include Brownsea Island, the largest and most reliable colony in the harbour, often mixed with common terns and occasionally Arctic terns.

Sandwich tern
Sandwich tern
Sandwich tern
Sandwich tern

I wandered over to chat with a birder I’d recognised from a few places earlier in the year and found him talking with a couple who looked as though they’d just finished the parkrun. It soon became clear that the young woman was actually the birder, and she’d been pointing out the tern to people as they ran around the lake - as well as mentioning a mandarin duck on the pool.

A mandarin duck ... wait a minute.

I asked where it was, thanked her, and headed back to Kev with the news, as we both still needed one for our year lists. After saying our goodbyes, we made our way to the pools behind, where we quickly found the mandarin among a small number of other ducks.

Mandarin ducks are now well-established in Britain, although they are not native to these shores. Originally from East Asia, particularly China, Japan and parts of Russia, they were introduced to the UK several centuries ago as ornamental birds for collections and estate lakes. Inevitably, some escaped captivity and gradually formed self-sustaining wild populations.

Over time the species adapted remarkably well to British conditions, and today mandarin ducks are widespread across much of England, especially in the south and Midlands. They favour quiet, tree-lined waters such as woodland pools, slow-flowing rivers and park lakes, where mature trees provide suitable nesting sites. They are largely resident, though often more noticeable in winter when birds gather on open water with males being at their most spectacular from autumn through spring, displaying their ornate plumage - complete with orange sail-like feathers. They are a useful species for the year list when one unexpectedly appears among more familiar wildfowl.

Mandarin duck
Mandarin duck
Mandarin duck

We noted that ten glossy ibis were being reported from the North Wall towards the bypass at Wareham and, having never seen this species in such numbers together, decided it was worth a visit. We soon pulled into the car park and made our way up to the higher ground to begin scanning - as we did Kev mentioned he'd been here before, possibly to see a Boneparte's gull.

Despite thorough searching with our scopes, we drew a blank. I climbed a little further to speak with a chap sitting on a bench scanning with binoculars, but he hadn’t seen the birds either and had already been waiting for over half an hour - then a family who mentioned that the birds sometime fed on the other side of the bypass. Undeterred, we continued to check every corner we could - across the marsh, over towards the bypass and anywhere that looked remotely promising - but there was still no sign of any ibis. We stopped and talked to a young couple coming the other way only to find it was our park runners from earlier.

Eventually we walked round and through the underpass to scan the opposite side, though the only additions to the day list were goldcrest and Egyptian goose. We knew we might regret leaving, but our options were either to wait in the hope the birds returned at a sensible time or to move on and try for something else on the way home. In the end we chose the latter; glossy ibis are now regular enough that we will see one closer to home, and it was really the unusual total of ten birds together that had drawn us here in the first place. Later there were reports of the birds returning - c'est la vie.

We’ve enjoyed several good birds at Acres Down in the past, but on this visit our main target was woodlark, which had already been reported there several times this year. Having seen them here before, we arrived hopeful, though the full car park meant leaving the car further back down the track before setting off across the site.

We walked slowly, stopping frequently to listen and scan with binoculars and scopes, but the heath felt unusually quiet. There was still movement to hold our attention: several stonechats fed busily, great tits moved through the trees and bushes, a Dartford warbler called from the gorse, and half a dozen meadow pipits flicked up intermittently. We were joined by a handful of other birders, most seemingly hoping for views of goshawks, but the conditions were against them with low cloud, mist and a cool breeze.

At least five ravens passed overhead, two of them engaging in an impressive tumbling display, folding their wings halfway and flipping forward in a loose somersault, rolling effortlessly through the air before catching themselves and climbing again. The performance continued with a series of twists and rolls - part acrobatics, part play - a behaviour typical of ravens in early spring, serving both as pair bonding and a form of territorial display. Someone mentioned seeing up to seven.

Raven

Despite our efforts we failed to find the target bird, though the walk itself was enjoyable and rewarding for what it was. Eventually it was time to head for home, with three additions to our year lists.

Monday arrived and as usual Charlotte headed off to play pickleball and then cards and I decided to go out myself and see if I could see the ferruginous duck at Ryton Pools Country Park near Coventry - local. Kev was unfortunately busy, so I decided that I'd still go, solo. I'd never been there, typically choosing Brandon Marsh to visit in that rough locality. I drew up in the car park, paid the parking fee and set off on a walk of just under a mile to Paget's Pool on the southern end of the site and near the Bubbenhall Woods and Meadow Nature Reserve.

Paget’s Pool is one of the quieter corners of Ryton Pools Country Park, tucked beside woodland and surrounded by a mosaic of wetland habitat that feels far more secluded than the park’s apparent popularity might suggest - there is a substantial Visitor's Centre. Reached along well-worn paths, the pool opens gradually through trees and reeds, revealing a pool of water edged with marginal vegetation and soft, marshy ground.

A bird hide overlooks the pool, offering a sheltered view across the water and the reed-fringed margins. It’s a good vantage point for watching waterbirds, although the two small islands with thin trees mean the view isn’t entirely uninterrupted. The day before, a redhead smew had been reported alongside a ferruginous duck, but just minutes before my arrival, someone had posted only the duck on BirdGuides - the smew, however, remained unreported.

I spent about fifteen minutes scanning from both the viewpoint and the hide without spotting anything unusual, seeing only swans, Canada geese, mallards, tufted ducks, little grebes, gadwall, coot, and moorhens. Then, at the very back edge, something caught my eye and dived before I could get on it, perhaps another little grebe. When it resurfaced, I realised it was the ferruginous duck. I watched it diving, feeding, and preening out of view from my camera. Finally, for a moment, it cruised from behind the trees, giving a perfect opportunity for a photograph.

Ferruginous duck remains an uncommon visitor in Warwickshire, but records have become increasingly regular in recent years, typically involving single birds lingering for weeks or even months. Nationally, the species winters mainly in southern Britain and often associates with pochard flocks, moving locally between wetlands, which perhaps explains why Warwickshire sightings shift between sites during a season. Napton Reservoir is a particularly well-known site among local birders, with a male ferruginous duck often showing well among other waterfowl during spring visits, and there’s even information suggesting breeding activity.

In inland counties like Warwickshire, ferruginous duck occupies one of birding’s greyer areas: genuine vagrants mix with birds of uncertain origin. The species is naturally occurring in Britain, breeding across eastern and central Europe and wintering further west into Europe, and wild birds regularly reach the UK, particularly in autumn and winter. A fair proportion are likely genuine wild wanderers, though absolute proof is rarely possible. Whatever their status, it’s always a delight to see one.

Ferruginous duck

Year list: 189.