Ardley Quarry & Titchmarsh :: 08 February 2025

The forecast predicted very cold weather with a high chance of sleet or snow across England, except for Cornwall. While a trip there would have been tempting, especially to see the booted eagle still lingering in the area, I had visitors on Saturday evening and couldn’t be sure I’d make it there and back in time. Instead, I arranged with Kev @kev07713 to pick him up later than usual (8:00am), giving us time to assess the weather and decide whether it was bad enough to call off our plans.

We settled on a flexible approach, hoping conditions wouldn’t be as bad as forecasted and that we could adapt as the day unfolded. Our first stop was Ardley Quarry Nature Reserve, near the Viridor ERF site, where a green-winged teal had been reported - Kev had seen it himself on Friday, so we were optimistic it would still be there. From there, we considered heading to Wildlife Trust BCN’s Titchmarsh reserve, where a drake ring-necked duck had been spotted recently. Reports of others of this species had mainly been females, but we were holding out for a drake.

The drive to the parking spot near the Trow Pool water tower took about 30 minutes, followed by a walk along the track past the pool to the Ardley Quarry pools and workings. The Trow Pool water tower was built in 1909 and was designed to meet the watThe Trow Pool water tower’s transition from a vital utility to a visual landmark reflects the broader evolution of infrastructure over time. Once essential for sustaining the village’s water supply, it now serves as a historical point of reference, linking Bucknell’s past to its present within the context of modern transportation and development.er demands of the local community in Bucknell village and the Manor estate. However, by the 1950s, the arrival of a centralised mains water system in Bucknell reduced its necessity.

The tower's significance evolved further in the 1990s with the construction of the M40 motorway, which opened in 1991. This major transportation route passes close by the tower, transforming it from a functional water supply structure into a recognisable landmark for passing motorists. Its historical importance, combined with its prominent position along the motorway, make it a familiar feature of the landscape.

It is a short walk from the water tower to Trow Pool, a closed coarse fishery where you can fish all year round for carp, tench, roach, perch and rudd. From there we crossed a bridge and veered left up the slope to view across the quarry pools. As we began to climb, Kev stopped and scanned the spot where he had seen the bird the previous day - there it was, resting at the water’s edge, drifting in and out of sleep. Another year tick. We continued up to the top of the slope and looked back through a gap in the trees. The light was still poor, as it was still early, but at least the rain was holding off.

The green-winged teal is a North American duck species that appears as a rare but regular winter visitor to the UK, with most records between October and March - recorded almost annually, with only a few individuals seen each winter. Most birds reaching the UK are thought to be vagrants, possibly blown off course during migration.

It is closely related to the Eurasian teal, with which it was once considered the same species. They are similar in size and shape to the Eurasian teal, but males have a distinct vertical white stripe on the breast instead of the horizontal stripe seen in Eurasian teals. Both species share the iridescent green wing patch, but this feature is more prominent in the green-winged teal - females are very difficult to distinguish from their Eurasian counterparts. Fortunately, our bird was a drake.

Kev started scanning around to see what he could find and pointed to a goose feeding between two Canada geese; it was very much smaller. Through the scope we could see it was a Russian white-fronted goose - a medium-sized goose with a white patch on the forehead and black belly markings.

The UK typically hosts a few thousand birds each winter but in recent years, warmer European winters have led to fewer birds reaching the UK, as many stay in the Netherlands and Germany. However, cold weather influxes can bring notable arrivals. They are often seen in mixed flocks with other geese, such as greylags and barnacle geese.

The Russian white-fronted goose, a subspecies of the greater white-fronted goose, is a winter visitor to the UK. They breed in Arctic Russia and migrate westward to overwinter in Western Europe, including the UK, increasing in number during severe cold spells in mainland Europe, as they seek milder conditions. They are often found in wetland areas and lowland grasslands, particularly: the Severn Estuary (Slimbridge WWT); Ouse Washes & Nene Washes (Cambridgeshire/Norfolk); the Thames Estuary (Essex/Kent); South Wales & West England (Newport Wetlands, Somerset Levels).

It’s uncommon to find them around Banbury, so we posted an update on the Banbury Birders WhatsApp group, sharing some back-of-the-camera photos and confirming that the teal was still present. Moving further along the track, we tried to get a closer view—an improvement, but still not ideal. After a short while, the three geese descended the slope and entered the water, initially staying close to their entry point before gradually moving further out into the flooded workings. We scanned through the gulls, hoping to spot a yellow-legged among them, but nothing of note stood out - later Justin Taylor would find a Caspian gull when he visited to see the goose, although the goose had already departed.

We got back to the car and headed towards our second stop, the weather playing ball - although cold. We stopped for brunch on the way.

BCN Titchmarsh is a section of the Thrapston Gravel Pits complex, situated within the Upper Nene Valley SSSI. The largest body of water, Aldwincle Lake, offers an expansive habitat for overwintering birds and features secluded islands that support breeding. The smaller lake, formerly a duck decoy, is now known as Heronry Lake and is where the ring-neck duck has been reported.

From the reserve car park a hard-surfaced track with kissing gates leads to one bird hide, while the rest of the paths are grass. Certain areas can become muddy and at times are prone to flooding.

We left the hard track and continued onto the grassy paths, and I was glad I’d opted for wellies, easier to clean later and less chance of mud splattering up my trousers. Our first stop was at a hide, where we scanned through flocks of wigeon, teal, and mallards, along with a few tufted ducks. Since reports had suggested our target bird was associating with tufties, we focused on them, but it wasn’t showing on this particular water body. However, we did spot both great white and little egrets, new additions to my year list.

Further along, we crossed a small bridge and noticed a goldcrest flitting through the trees. On another water body, we found more tufted ducks and carefully checked each one, but still no sign of our bird. As we followed the track, we came across an open area where a fallen tree had been sawn into sections, attracting a mix of tits, finches, blackbirds, and a single redwing.

Reaching the hide overlooking Heronry Lake, we stepped inside, soon joined by two other birders. With four of us squeezed into the small, musty hide, it quickly became apparent that the viewing conditions were far from ideal. The narrow slot windows made it nearly impossible to position the scope at a useful height, and Kev declared it the worst hide he’d ever been in. Worse still, there were barely any birds on the water - just five tufted ducks, but not the one we were searching for. Other sightings included shovelers, a grey heron, and the egrets again. It didn’t take long for us to abandon the hide and head back to check the other pools. We agreed to update BirdGuides if we found our duck and asked the others to do the same.

As we scanned across various pools, we enjoyed more views of great white egrets feeding along the reed edges, moving between different sections of the wetlands.

The great white egret has seen a remarkable increase in numbers across the UK in recent years. Once a rare visitor, it is now a regular sight, particularly in wetland habitats as this. The first recorded breeding attempt in Britain was in 2012 at the Shapwick Heath National Nature Reserve in Somerset. Since then, breeding has become more frequent, with expanding colonies in places like the Somerset Levels and East Anglia. Strong population increases in the Netherlands and France, and milder conditions, have assisted natural range expansion into the UK. Their numbers are expected to continue rising, following a similar trend to other heron and egret species like little and cattle egrets.

We walked up onto a raised area allowing us a good vista across the water holding the most birds - we could see six little grebes, five together hunting through the closest reeds. Behind us up to four red kites roosted in the trees, all at distance.

The red kite has made a remarkable comeback in Northamptonshire and across the UK, thanks to one of the most successful reintroduction projects in conservation history. One of the main release sites was Rockingham Forest, Northamptonshire, where kites were introduced between 1995 and 1998. The birds have thrived in the area, with ideal habitat and abundant food sources, leading to rapid population growth. Red kites are now a common sight across the county, particularly in Rockingham Forest, the Nene Valley, and rural areas around Kettering, Corby, and Oundle. The call of the red kite is a distinctive, high-pitched, and whistling sound. We were treated to the perched birds calling to one another.

In front of the hide and to the right, a flooded area of cut reeds looked like the perfect spot for a jack snipe, but not even a common snipe was present. We scanned back and forth, but the only birds we uncovered were goldcrests, chiffchaffs, and long-tailed tits.

As we slowly made our way back to the car, we checked every pool and field, hoping for a last-minute find, but our target bird remained elusive, and there was nothing new to add to our year lists. On WhatsApp, we saw that one of the birders we’d left in the hide had reported a cream-crowned marsh harrier. We had seen a couple of raptors earlier but regretted missing this one.

With that, it was time to head home, an early finish.

Year list: 115.

Acres Down :: 01 February 2025

I had spent the past week working abroad, which meant missing the previous Saturday’s birding trip. I returned on Friday, and when Kev asked if I was up for a day out on Saturday, I shared that I was keen. The weather wasn’t looking promising, but then again, it hadn’t been for a while. Over the past week, a lesser spotted woodpecker had been spotted at Acres Down, making it a tempting destination. Despite this species being something of a bogey bird for us at that site, we decided it was worth a try. We stopped for breakfast at our usual spot when visiting the south coast and continued on to arrive in the car park when some daylight would be assured - we didn't stop to look around and made straight to the favoured tree. The lesser spotted woodpecker is a notoriously elusive bird, and Acres Down is one of the more reliable locations in southern England to see one. However, sightings are often fleeting, and the bird's habit of staying high in the canopy makes it a challenge to spot. Early spring, especially February to April, is prime time for seeing them, as males drum to establish territory and attract mates.

When we arrived, three people were already in position and confirmed that the bird hadn’t been seen that morning. Undeterred, we settled in and waited, hoping for any sign. As time passed, our optimism began to wane - it seemed our luck for this bird at this site wasn’t about to change.

Bird activity was sparse, aside from an unusually high number of song thrushes. One had woven a nuthatch-like phrase into its song. The thrushes called persistently, foraging through the leaf litter, occasionally clashing over territory. When tensions flared, they burst into the air in a flurry of wings and feathers, their skirmishes ending as abruptly as they began.

A flock of 15–20 crossbills flew overhead, circled back, and settled in the canopy above. We moved to get a better view, but they didn’t stop - before I could take a photo, they were off again. About twenty minutes later, three more crossbills landed in the same spot, but once again, they left before I could even get them in focus.

We decided to follow the path, pausing to check for the tawny owl sometimes seen along this track, but had no luck. Scanning the treetops yielded only the usual species. Splitting up briefly, I explored some tracks where we'd previously encountered crossbills to try and get a photo but returned empty-handed.

Green woodpeckers called from the right, and we eventually spotted one as it flew up into a tree, then again as it joined another, the pair moving further along the treeline. It wouldn’t be our last sighting, as Kev made an incredible spot on our way back, picking out a distant bird perched on the back of a dead tree. As we reached the denser trees along the path, we spotted another marsh tit feeding through - it took me ages to get focus when the bird was in the clear for a record shot.

We stopped for 10-15 minutes to see whether we we'd be lucky and see the lesser-spotted woodpecker but now we were the only people there and there was nothing moving through. We decided to break away and see if we could add any other species to our year lists but checking out many of the spots we've encountered firecrests before, we found ourselves empty-handed. We did pull out a goldcrest but not the rarer cousin.

We dedicated some time to searching for firecrests but had little luck, making our way past the car park, up the slope, and along the valley’s ridge. Then, from within the trees, we caught the distinctive call. Following the sound, we carefully moved in, hoping for a view.

After a few minutes of searching, we finally spotted a pair of firecrest flitting through the holly on either side of the track — at last! They busily fed among the branches, putting on a display that made up for our earlier struggles.

As a woman on horseback trotted through the trees and along the track, we took it as our cue to move on and try our luck with woodlarks. It still felt a bit early in the year for them to be displaying over the scrub-covered slopes, but there was always the chance of a goshawk soaring above the treetops - it wouldn’t be the first time.

Kev spotted movement on the ground up the slope and, after scoping it, found a sizeable flock of meadow pipits. We carefully worked through them, hoping to pick out something different, but they repeatedly hopped along before vanishing into the scrub. After a while, we were confident there was nothing unusual among them and turned our attention back to the slope below. A buzzard drifted by at a great distance, making no attempt to resemble a goshawk, and nothing else stood out.

Eventually, we made our way back toward the car park. As we reached the rise out of the valley, two birds suddenly dropped over the brow and into the grass. A moment later, the reason became clear - some approaching walkers had flushed them, and they had sought cover. We watched as the walkers neared, and once again, the birds took flight. This time, we were ready and confirmed the ID; a pair of woodlarks. What luck!

Back at the car, we grabbed a coffee before heading down the road for one last attempt at spotting a nuthatch - this stretch of woodland was usually a reliable spot. Once again, we came up empty-handed, but we did encounter another firecrest. Unfortunately, this one was too mobile for me to get a decent photo.

With that, we called it a day, pulled sticks, and set off for home, stopping off for one last coffee along the way.

Year list: 112.

Eldernell, Eyebrook Reservoir & Draycote Water :: 18 January 2025

Kev had chosen to return to Cornwall after previously missing the booted eagle, but I had commitments on Saturday night and Sunday, making a late return on Saturday impossible. Instead, I decided to bird on my own and make a full day of it, visiting several sites to add a few species to my year list. As usual, I planned to start at the furthest location and gradually work my way home, ensuring a shorter final leg at the end of the day. My itinerary included Eldernell for owls -specifically tawny and long-eared - Eyebrook Reservoir for smew - and Draycote Water for the ferruginous duck.

After a quick breakfast stop, I arrived at Eldernell to find the cold accompanied by a lingering mist, far from ideal conditions for photography. I hoped the owls would cooperate and stay within close range. Unfortunately, I seemed to have missed the barn owl, as there was no sign of one on the wing, and I couldn’t spot any short- or long-eared owls in their usual roosting hedge. Rather than making another pass, I headed straight for the tree where a tawny owl often "suns" itself, offering excellent views as it roosts before its evening hunt.

scanned the water as flocks of whooper swans lifted off and flew overhead, making up for my recent miss at Slimbridge. They passed in groups of three to twelve, heading east. A flock of pink-footed geese also moved through before a raven appeared, landing in the distance to join another on the footpath along the raised bank. Among the ducks and wildfowl, nothing particularly noteworthy stood out.

I decided to walk back and check the hedge again for any owls. Along the way, I encountered a group of young lads accompanied by a couple of adults. They hadn’t seen any short- or long-eared owls, and I confirmed that I hadn’t either. They opted to head toward the tawny owl, while I continued working my way toward the car park and back, ultimately coming up empty-handed. Out on the marsh, a pair of common cranes flew through, though they remained at a distance.

I headed back once more, carefully scanning the hedge, taking my time to search through the branches and foliage. Before long, the lads returned and joined the effort - one of them had a thermal scope, so I decided to stay close as he picked out a few small tit species in the hedge. We formed the advanced guard, with the rest of the group following behind.

After about ten minutes, the young lad suddenly stopped, raised his binoculars, then his scope, and gestured to his friend. I paused and joined them just in time to hear him say that this was the first significant find he’d made with his scope. He pointed out where to look, and sure enough, there it was ... a long-eared owl. I had begun to wonder if I might need to make a detour to Deeping Lakes, but with this find, I could stick to my original plan.

Out in front of the car park, I spotted my first marsh harrier of the year, gliding over the pools and occasionally stalling, though it never made a move on any unsuspecting prey. Raptors were scarce, with only a lone kestrel perched in a tree. As I left the lads behind, I caught sight of half a dozen cranes touching down on the distant far bank, too far for photos and only really visible through the scope.

As I approached the car park, I came across a pair of stonechats, though only the female lingered long enough for a photo. They always seem to show well in this area. With other sites still to visit, I needed to keep moving, so I jumped into the car and set off for Eyebrook Reservoir.

arrival, I parked opposite the viewing area and scanned the water. Realistically, any smew were likely in the next bay, out of sight from this spot. As usual, a handful of red-legged partridges roamed the area, with one perched on a fallen tree, seemingly standing guard. As another approached, there was a noticeable hint of aggression from the bird holding the vantage point.

After spotting groups of pintails among the wigeon and teal, I moved back out and walked along the roadside to a gap in the hedge, which offered a clear view of the bay. Before long, I spotted a drake smew diving near the point, gradually working its way closer. Within minutes, another drake and a redhead suddenly appeared alongside it. I had no idea where they had been hiding, as I hadn't seen them among the other ducks; it's not as if a drake smew is particularly inconspicuous! Moments later, the entire group was spooked by an unseen threat and took to the air, with the smew following suit, heading left and disappearing down the reservoir. Some of the teal and wigeon circled back and settled again, but the smew remained out of sight.

I walked further down the road and eventually saw the three smew at distance before they disappeared again. There were now numbers of goldeneye and they were also a year tick, a few of the males displaying - the mating display is a fascinating and elaborate courtship ritual performed by drake goldeneyes to attract females, typically in late winter and early spring. The drake dramatically throws his head backward until it nearly touches his back, then snaps it forward while giving a nasal, high-pitched call.

I returned to the spot where I had watched the smew, only to find they hadn’t yet returned. Scanning the bay, I noticed some movement and quickly realized it was an otter - my second consecutive visit with a sighting. This time, however, there was no diving, just a swift, purposeful cruise across the bay before it disappeared from view.

I logged my sightings and returned to the car, setting off for Draycote Water. On arrival, I found the car park still quite full and after paying for a couple of hours of parking, I stopped to chat with a fellow birder who was packing up his gear into the boot of his car. He mentioned that he had checked round to the hide at Toft Bay but hadn’t seen the ferruginous duck; it was therefore likely somewhere beyond the sailing club. That saved me some time, and before long, I was joining another birder who was scanning the water with his scope. As we worked through the tufted ducks and coots, I picked up another year tick, a small group of goosanders.

In the far distance near the valve tower, we managed to spot the long-staying red-throated diver. As we shifted our focus back to the ducks closer to the bank, we finally located the ferruginous duck, diving only occasionally. To get a better view, we moved further along the bank. The light was fading, but there was still enough to capture a few photos.

As I made my way back to the car, I came across John Judge and Theo de Clermont setting up for the gull roost and decided to join them. A glaucous gull had been seen in recent days, and it was a great opportunity to learn. They picked out a distant yellow-legged gull, and we spotted the red-throated diver now working along the edge of a group of large gulls; mostly lesser black-backed, great black-backed, and a few herring gulls. Common gulls were plentiful, with black-headed gulls making up the majority.

I kept watching, but eventually, my parking limit ran out, and I had to head back to the car. Later, I found out that the glaucous gull had dropped in just 15 minutes after I left; though it must have been quite dark by then, it still would have been great to see.

Year list: 105.