Broadsands, Devon :: 29 March 2025

Back in October 2022, Kev @kev07713 and I travelled to Burnham-on-Sea in search of the Kentish plover. After an incredible morning, we decided to continue on to Broadsands, Devon, where I was hoping to add cirl bunting to my life list. You can read about that day's adventures here.

Although I managed distant views of the bunting, I've since been eager to return for better views and a photo. So, when the chance arose to meet Kev's sister, Karen @hobbylovinglife, and her partner, Dean @worlebirder, for another visit to Broadsands, I jumped at the opportunity!

The cirl bunting is a relatively rare and localised bird species in the UK, primarily found in South Devon - once widespread across southern England, its population has dramatically declined. A successful RSPB reintroduction project has also established a small population in Cornwall. The shift from small, mixed farms to intensive monoculture farming has reduced food availability and rely on hedgerows and scrubby field margins for nesting and foraging. There are also now winter food shortages as they depend on weed seeds and stubble fields in winter, which have become scarce.

The males sport bright yellow underparts, black eyestripes, and a greenish-brown back whereas the females are more subdued with streaky brown plumage, resembling a yellowhammer, but with finer markings. There are thought to be around 1,000 pairs of cirl buntings in the UK which is a huge improvement from the 1980s, when numbers dropped to just 118 pairs.

The cirl bunting also has a shorter lifespan (6.1 years) than many similar-sized passerines. Species like the yellowhammer (13.2 years), chaffinch (14.9 years), and great tit (15 years) can live more than twice as long; species like house sparrows (23 years) and great tits (15.0 years) living longer, while linnets (8.3 years) and wrens (7.2 years) are closer to our buntings. Small birds generally face high predation and environmental risks, but some species with better adaptability, different feeding strategies, or migration patterns, tend to live longer.

We met for breakfast and aimed to arrive just after 8.00am, hoping to get there before the public / dog walkers became too active; an early start, especially when travelling from Banbury. Fortunately, the journey felt shorter than expected, and the break made it a comfortable and manageable hop after breakfast.

As we got ready at the cars, we immediately spotted a couple of cirl buntings among some house sparrows, chaffinches, and a dunnock - a promising start! We set up at a respectful distance, allowing the birds space to perch in the hedge and drop down to feed. I took some photos and later returned to the car for my scope, which gave me closer views and the chance to record a short video. We watched as three males and three females alternated between the hedge and the ground, until eventually a pair took flight and disappeared passed and behind us.

What a treat to have the buntings show so well and let me get that photo I'd been waiting for.

Kev wandered off and returned saying that he'd spotted a bird that he was sure was a willow warbler - we haven't heard or seen one so for this year. Kev, Karen and I walked back to see if we could confirm the ID - it was tricky as the bird was mostly flitting around the back of a dense bush and making it difficult to pick out any of the tell-tale features - a song would have helped.

Willow warblers are one of the UK’s most common summer migrants, arriving from sub-Saharan Africa each spring to breed, with early arrivals start appearing in southern England in late March and early April. They are particularly common in Scotland, Wales, and northern England, though appear to be declining in the south. They are similar to the chiffchaff but with paler legs, longer wings, and a more yellowish underside - the best way to separate the two species is by length of the primaries and by the willow's beautiful, descending, melodic warble, quite different to the repetitive "chiff-chaff" song of its close relative.

Seeing a willow warbler in March makes me feel that the spring migration is well underway. The darting behaviour we watched is classic willow warbler - they'd all be fuelling up after their long journey and although this individual was silent in a week or two we'll likely hear their beautiful, descending song as they settle into their breeding territories.

We had spent quite enough time with our buntings and decided to give them space while we walked up onto the cliffs for a spot of sea watching. There had been reports of surf scoter and red-necked grebes from here and it would be good to see if we could spot them. On our way up we stopped to look out over the bay and spotted a great northern diver fishing at some distance. We set up our scopes and watched for a while, hoping that our other birds might show too - but no such luck.

Great northern divers are stunning, large water birds that are seen in the south of the UK, particularly in winter and early spring. They migrate to the UK from the Arctic to spend the winter in milder waters and in summer they head back to breeding grounds in the far north, including Scotland.

They sport a stunning black-and-white patterned body with a striking black head and white throat but unfortunately, they don’t look like this in winter – then they are more subdued in appearance, usually a grey-brown body with a pale throat and darker head. They are larger than most other divers, with a strikingly long neck, a strong beak, and a noticeable 'bump' on the forehead. They are excellent divers, capable of plunging to great depths to catch fish - they can dive up to 60 meters and remain submerged for several minutes at a time. That is something on the bucket list - see divers in their summer breeding plumage - and close enough for a photo.

Karen had wandered off ahead while we'd stayed to watch the diver and when we caught up with her on the clifftop vantage point, she'd already located the two red-necked grebes.

Red-necked grebes are a special sight in the UK, as they’re mostly winter visitors - seeing them in spring could mean they're on migration, possibly heading to Scandinavia or Eastern Europe to breed. They weren't quite in full breeding plumage with a deep chestnut neck and black cap but were part way there - they were good value through the scope, but distant to capture in the camera.

We picked up another great northern diver, a gannet, and Kev called a fulmar, although I didn't get on it.

We scanned for a while until eventually Dean called the surf scoter; a first-winter drake surf scoter has been reported at Broadsands since 10 December 2024 and as they often do, it was associating with a common scoter. Our bird has been difficult to see at times and I think Dean and Karen have tried unsuccessfully for it before - our luck was in today.

Surf scoters are quite rare in the UK - these sea ducks are more commonly found in North America, but they occasionally turn up along the UK's coasts during winter months, usually appearing between October and March.

The males are easily recognisable by their black plumage, bright orange bill with a distinctive yellow spot near the base, and their white wing patches. Females are more subdued with dark brownish-grey plumage but still have the characteristic bill shape. They can be harder to identify but are still distinctive once you know what to look for. Most UK records involve individuals or small groups and are often observed among other species of scoters.

It was extremely distant and required careful focus even through the scope, but its key identification features were clear, so we were satisfied. There was no chance of getting a photo, so I attempted a video, though even that proved challenging at such a distance.

After some time we decided that we would try for another bird and noticed that the hoopoe visiting at Seaton Bowls Club had been reported again and so made our way there. On arrival we got the news that it had flown a little over an hour before we got there, when the clock bell rang. It had shown well and hadn't even flushed when the groundsman cut the grass - he said it had been there for four days and fed on the green. Surely it would return ...

We waited for as long as we could before the drive home. We left Karen and Dean there - they had a shorter journey home - but the bird never returned. Shame, but it didn't spoil a cracking day out.

Year list: 151.

Pilning Wetlands, Cotswold Water Park and home :: 22 March 2025

Considering the weather and recent bird sightings, Kev @kev07713 and I decided that heading southwest would be our best option. Conveniently, this also gave us the chance to meet up with Kev's sister, Karen @hobbylovinglife, and her partner, Dean @worlebirder. They were planning some local birdwatching and had gathered some useful intel. We arranged to meet them early - around 6:30 am - at Pilning Wetlands in Gloucestershire, about an hour and 35-minute drive from home. It was my turn to drive, picking Kev up on the way, and we opted to skip our usual breakfast stop, planning to sort something out later.

On our way, we followed the pin-drop Karen had just shared and arrived to find her and Dean lacing up their walking boots. After a quick catch-up, we set off along the new flood defences and onto the sea wall. Reports had mentioned five jack snipe "showing well" at one of the pools, so we headed in that direction, pausing to scan the water and exposed beach as we walked.

The jack snipe is a small, secretive wading bird that winters in the UK but does not breed here - it is a passage and winter visitor, arriving from its breeding grounds in northern Europe and Siberia around September, and staying until March or April. It is smaller and has a shorter bill than the common snipe. It is well-camouflaged with brown, black, and buff markings, notably "bobbing" up and down when feeding, and prefers dense vegetation where it remains hidden.

A small flock of dunlin flew overhead and one of the rear birds looked smaller - potentially a little stint ... hopefully we'd catch up with the flock later and make an ID then. The call of curlew, green woodpecker, chiffchaff, and Cetti's warbler rang out as we walked along to the pools ahead - apparently this stretch of the track has changed very considerably since Karen and Dean were here last - hopefully it has not affected the birds.

We spotted redshank, coot, moorhen, gadwall, and teal in the pools as we eagerly scanned for our target. Dean was the first to pick out a jack snipe, watching as it flew from the far end of the first pool and low toward the second. I only caught a glimpse of a bird in flight and couldn't confirm the ID. While Kev and Dean stayed behind to scan, Karen and I continued ahead. I paused when I spotted a bird through my binoculars - switching to my scope, I could clearly see it was a jack snipe. I called Karen back for a look - tick.

We signalled Kev and Dean to join us, but by the time they arrived, the bird had vanished - flown? I scanned the water’s edge and briefly picked up a common snipe just before it took off. Despite further searching around the first pool, we couldn't locate another, so we decided to move on and check the second pool where the birds appeared to have relocated.

Setting up our scopes, we all focused on the reeds at the water’s edge. Soon, we locked onto the same bird, a jack snipe. We watched as it moved onto the exposed vegetation to feed, joined by a handful of common snipe. Then another jack appeared. Then a third. As we watched, meadow pipits flitted in, and as Karen scanned the flock, she picked out a water pipit among them. Kev managed to capture some footage, but I struggled to get a clear photo - tracking the snipe was tricky enough. In the end, I opted to record some video for a better record.

Across the pools we could count eight avocet preening and feeding - one of my favourite birds. The avocet is one of the UK’s most striking wading birds and a conservation success story. It is a migratory breeder, returning to the UK in spring (March-April) from wintering grounds and from as far afield as southern Europe and Africa. Since 2016, the estimated number of breeding pairs has remained above 2,000, with a five-year mean of 2,221 pairs.

We'd had a good time on the reserve (49 species) but decided to move on, first for some breakfast and then to travel north to Whelford Pools Nature Reserve in the Cotswold Water Park where there was a drake lesser scaup, first reported on 19 March. The lesser scaup is a rare winter visitor to the UK, seen in small numbers and is a North American diving duck, often found among flocks of tufted ducks. It has a dark head with a slight purple sheen, pale grey back, and black tail - the head has a more peaked shape compared to the rounder-headed greater scaup and the bill is blue-grey with a small black tip.

The first recorded sighting in the UK was in Staffordshire in 1987 and by 2006, over 60 individuals had been recorded, averaging about two per year. Recent records indicate that the number of sightings has continued to rise, with notable events such as a record-breaking flock of 10 lesser scaups observed in Cornwall in 2023.

On the way, we lost Karen and Dean, so waited for them to catch up in the reserve car park. While we waited, we heard a blackcap singing from the dense brambles nearby.

Whelford Pools NR is a former gravel pit transformed into a thriving freshwater habitat, known for its wintering wildfowl. Located within the Cotswold Water Park, the reserve often provides good views of red-crested pochards. While some areas are restricted to protect nesting and roosting birds, visitors can explore designated hides and pathways.

From the car park, it was a short walk to the hide where the scaup had been reported. Dean set up just to the right of the hide, while Kev, Karen, and I went inside. Within minutes, we spotted the scaup, though it was partly obscured by reeds in front of the hide and was diving frequently, staying under for long periods. As we watched, a Cetti’s warbler called just off to the left, eventually flying across in front of the hide.

Dean then popped his head around the door, letting us know he had spotted a drake red-crested pochard at the far end of the pool, about 400 meters away. However, despite searching, we could only find common pochards.

Kev stepped outside for a stroll and returned with news - he’d spoken to another birder who had spotted four red-crested pochards on a nearby pool. We headed over to check but had no luck in locating them.

I paused at a clearing that provided access to the bank overlooking the pool where our lesser scaup had been seen. After a few minutes of scanning, I spotted it again. I stayed there, watching for a good half hour, before the rest of the group rejoined me. We also managed to get a better view of a Cetti’s warbler before it darted along the back of the pool and disappeared - no photo this time.

Kev and Dean said that they'd managed to see some restricted views of a red-crested pochard on the adjacent pool and so we made our way back, looking to see if Karen and I could tick one. The red-crested pochard is a striking diving duck found in the UK both as a resident and as a winter visitor. The male has a distinctive orange-red head with a rounded shape, a bright red bill, and black breast and tail, with pale flanks. The female is quite different with more subdued brown plumage, pale cheeks with a dark cap and a greyish-brown body.

The UK has a resident breeding population - around 40–100 pairs - mainly found in southern and central England, in winter the population increases significantly with several hundred individuals arriving from continental Europe. The Cotswold Water Park is a known breeding location.

Dean fell behind but when he eventually joined us, he immediately picked up a drake red-crested pochard i the pool directly behind the far end of the pool - it took Karen and I a few minutes but eventually we both saw the bird and got our tick.

We hopped into the cars and headed to another site featuring wetland meadows, offering a chance to spot ducks, geese, and woodland birds. In the fields, we noticed stock doves foraging, accompanied by a couple of Egyptian geese.

As we neared the wetland meadows, the number of meadow pipits and pied wagtails steadily increased. To our left, we spotted numerous ducks, including two pairs of red-crested pochards, along with a grey heron and a couple of little egrets. Off to our right, a great white egret stood tall in the shallows.

We walked along the edge of the meadow and Karen spotted something you don't see every day ... a scarlet ibis. The scarlet ibis is not native to the UK but occasionally appears as an escapee from captivity. This striking bright red bird is naturally found in South America and the Caribbean, particularly in Venezuela, Brazil, and Trinidad and Tobago - there are no confirmed records of genuinely wild scarlet ibises reaching the UK naturally. In the summer of 2024, there was a sighting at Stodmarsh Nature Reserve in Kent - believed to be an escapee freely roaming the area. There had also been reports from Dorset around the same period.

The bird was around 400mm away but conspicuous by its colour - we moved along the path hoping to get a line where we could get a photo and/or a video - we were partially successful, but it was always going to be hard at that distance. We spent a while watching as it appeared and disappeared. We hoped that a wandering muntjac deer might flush it back into the open but in the end, we decided to take one last look on the water behind and return to the car.

On our return along the track we came across a splendid looking duck that seemed very at hope with humans. Looking at references when I got home it appears to have been a Cayuga duck - a domestic breed known for its striking black plumage with an iridescent black / green sheen - plumage that shimmers with deep emerald-green hues when caught in the light, most vivid in sunlight, giving the duck an almost magical appearance. It is primarily kept for ornamental purposes, egg production, and meat. The colour is richest in younger birds and may gradually fade to a soft grey as they age. The overall effect is striking, almost otherworldly.

It originated in the United States in the early 19th century, specifically in the Finger Lakes region of New York (named after Cayuga Lake) and is believed to have descended from wild black ducks crossed with domestic breeds. They can sometimes as ornamental pets for their unique colour and friendly nature.

Reaching the car we talked about what to do next and we agreed to stop with Karen and Dean to watch some owls - at our venue a barn owl is almost guaranteed, but there was also the hope of a short-eared owl. The farmer leaves set-aside / fallow areas to promote biodiversity, and it has become an important habitat for these barn and short-eared owls. The open, unmanaged grassland provide excellent hunting grounds for the owls, which rely on a steady supply of small mammals, particularly field voles, mice, and shrews. The longer grass and undisturbed vegetation allow vole populations to thrive, providing a reliable food source.

After about a 15-minute wait, a barn owl duly appeared, gliding low over the field on the brow, silently scanning for movement. It hovered briefly before diving with precision - a textbook hunting display. We watched for around 20 minutes, enjoying the spectacle, when another owl crossed the back of the field. Raising our binoculars, we confirmed it was indeed a short-eared owl, a year tick for Karen and Dean.

Time passed - Kev and I left the others to remain in the hope for better views while we set off back toward Banbury and our evening plans. Another fantastic day of birding, made even better by catching up with friends - a perfect way to spend a Saturday.

Year list: 144.

Cannock Chase & back into Oxfordshire :: 15 March 2025

There seemed to be a few options for Saturday morning, but I had a preference for going to see the great grey shrike on Cannock Chase - it has been ages since I had a good view of one. Having stopped for breakfast Kev @kev07713 drove the last leg and to a spot where he had parked just a few days before - the road was very uneven and had to be taken carefully so as not to ground the car.

The great grey shrike is a regular winter visitor to the UK, primarily seen between October and March. They typically inhabit open heathland, young forestry plantations, and scrubby areas where they hunt small birds, mammals, and large insects. This is a predatory songbird, known for its habit of impaling prey on thorns or barbed wire (stashing for consuming later), earning it the nickname "butcher bird".

In the UK the number of these shrikes varies each year - this year seems pretty lean - there has been a significant decline in wintering number from a BTO estimate of 29 individuals wintering annual between 2012 and 2017, circa 12 in the winter of 2021-22, and 11 in 2023-24. They breed in Northern Europe and Russia, usually migrating south in Winter. Our bird was (I think) first reported on 19th October 2024 and has been elusive, going awol on several occasions. Kev had visited a few days earlier and so had some intel, first on where to park, and then where to start looking - this proved invaluable.

We set off from the car along the track and noticed a man with a scope to our left. He seemed to be watching specific trees, though not in an area where the bird had been recorded. Ignoring the distraction, we continued toward the valley, scanning the trees beyond, but there was no sign of our target. This was just a brief stop, so we carried on up a slope, reaching the brow. After a few minutes, Kev told me to keep my eyes open in case I walked right past the bird. I paused, realising he wasn’t speaking hypothetically - I already had! Perched near the top of a tree to our left, bathed in bright sunlight, was the shrike, a brilliant sight.

Our luck was remarkable to be on the bird so quickly - some people have visited multiple times and not seen it at all. Just as we spotted another birder approaching from the right, the shrike suddenly dropped out of view ... neither of us saw which way it went. Kev walked over to chat with the newcomer while I stayed behind, scanning the trees in hope of finding it again – he hadn’t seen where it went either

I briefly joined Kev and the other birder, but after he left, I retraced my steps, carefully scanning all the likely perches. Within minutes, I spotted the shrike perched at the top of a small, twiggy tree. I called Kev over, but just as we tried to get a clearer view, it took off again.

Kev was again the one to relocate it, now silhouetted against the sky, farther to the left. I set up my scope, deciding to switch things up by taking a video before switching back to my camera. Kev quickly moved around the track to find a better angle and managed to capture another short video before the shrike took off again, this time flying far to the right, disappearing over a stand of tall trees. As an added bonus, a flushed woodcock made for an even better morning out. Unfortunately, I was busy fumbling with my phone and scope and completely missed it - muppet.

We had two options: embark on a long search for the shrike or wait patiently for another sighting - we chose neither. Instead, we decided to head back to the car and try for some other birds elsewhere. Our next stop was farmland near Woodstock, where Kev had previously spotted a finch flock along with a striking male brambling.

As soon as we arrived, we saw a few finches along with a small group of yellowhammers - it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t seen any "yammers" yet this year.

Unfortunately, the main finch flock was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, we realised they had moved to the far side of a tree line, just beyond the crest of a cornfield. We repositioned to get a clearer view, particularly of the hedge where the finches tended to land after flushing from the ground. For about an hour, we watched and managed to spot a female brambling a couple of times - likely the same bird.

Our session was cut short when a sparrowhawk glided through, sending the birds scattering in all directions. With the flock thoroughly dispersed and showing no signs of returning anytime soon, we called it a day and made a new plan.

We set off and saw five hares in a field, scattered by a tractor piling through.

We arrived at Lower Heyford and followed the track. Kev had visited earlier in the year but hadn’t managed to find any corn buntings, though he had spotted grey partridges - both were high on my wish list for the day.

The ploughed field to our right was empty, so we focused on the hedgerow to our left, but that too was quiet. As we reached a bend at the top of the track, we paused to scan the grassy field ahead. On my second sweep, I noticed a promising shape. Then, as it lifted its head slightly, I realised it was a grey partridge! And not just one, but two. They remained low, feeding cautiously, hunkered down and mostly out of sight. I called Kev over.

Once a common sight in farmland, grey partridges have declined drastically due to habitat loss, modern agricultural practices, and pesticide use. With their plump bodies, chestnut flanks, and distinctive orange faces, they’re unmistakable -though at this distance, I wasn’t going to get a frame-filling shot. Adding to the challenge, the occasional burst of sunlight created a frustrating heat haze. I was reminded of my best-ever encounter with the species at Holkham, quite a different outcome, and this photo.

We watched these birds for a short while but could hear some calls from round the corner. We eased round to find some yellowhammers flying along the hedge, and then picked out a couple, no three, corn buntings. We stayed put and scoped the birds, taking some video and photos. Numbers of corn buntings grew until we were sure we had more than 15, along the hedge line and some back down the track. Having seen our birds there was no need to disturb them anymore.

Walking back a handful of yellowhammers and corn buntings stuck to the hedge and flew ahead - I did get the opportunity for a closer photo, but a little into the sun. Soon they tired of this and flew across the field behind the hedge and across to the hedge on the opposite side. We scoped them through a gap in the hedge and returned to the car.

We stopped once more to look for little owl but dipped that, although I did add a lovely female blackcap to my year list, and we spotted a single corn bunting in with the finch flock. Another great day out birding with Kev.

Year list: 140.

Somerset day out :: 08 March 2025

A 5.00am departure saw Kev and I heading southwest to Burnham-on-Sea (affectionately referred to as Burnham-on-Mud) to meet up with his sister Karen and her partner Dean. This would be the first of a few stops around Somerset to see a few 'nice' birds in the same area. Up to now the Kentish has been showing well early and on a rising high tide. Recently though this behaviour has changed a little - views have been good generally from first light until about 9.00am.

The Kentish plover is now primarily a passage migrant and winter visitor in the UK but formerly bred, particularly along the coasts of East Anglia and Kent. It became extinct as a breeding species in the country in the mid-20th century. It is more now more commonly found in southern Europe, Africa, and Asia during the colder months.

It is a small plover with pale sandy brown upperparts, white underparts, and a distinctive black bill. During the breeding season, males have a black band on the forehead and around the neck - females and non-breeding birds are duller with less contrast. They still breed in continental Europe, particularly in France and Spain, where conservation efforts have helped protect their populations.

The Kentish plover has been a notable visitor to Burnham-on-Sea in recent years, usually seen between late December and early March. Sightings are typically reported near the Burnham-On-Sea Coastguard station, along the esplanade, and on Stert Island. Early mornings and/or around high tide are usually recommended, as the bird may come closer to the shore before human activity increases.

This individual was first ringed at a nature reserve in northern Germany on June 14, 2021, as an adult female. The German population of Kentish plovers typically migrates to Spain, Portugal, or Africa for the winter. However, this bird has been wintering at Burnham-on-Sea over multiple years, first seen on December 26, 2019, and returning in subsequent winters.

Enroute we had a call from Karen to say they had arrived before 6.30am and were already on the bird and checking how far out we were. We arrived to find Karen and Dean on the esplanade with a couple of other birders, the Kentish still resting on the beach with numbers of both ringed plovers and dunlins. Kev and I joined them and within a minute were on the bird - not tricky as it was still essentially roosting, but not asleep - head up, not tucked under the wing.

The ringed plovers were particularly motionless whereas the dunlin started moving around feeding. After twenty minutes or so the Kentish followed suit and started scurrying around, stopping to preen and pause.

Rays from the sun started to extend over the buildings and wall of the esplanade, crawling closer and closer to the plovers and dunlins. We waited to see the birds bathed in sunlight before deciding what we'd do next - breakfast, as we'd all come out and directly to the site to ensure we'd connect with the bird - it was still just a little after 8.00am.

We had breakfast just outside Bridgwater and then made for WWT Steart Marshes where two little ringed plovers had been reported the day before. Unlike ringed plovers which prefer coastal habitats, the little ringed plover is more commonly seen in inland areas, particularly around gravel pits, reservoirs and riverbanks. Our bird had arrived on cue - usual arrival in March from Africa where it winters to breed, and then departing in September.

We headed toward the viewing screen, spotting a linnet, several pied wagtails, and a reed bunting along the way. Karen and I reached the screen first, and I began scanning with the scope, hoping to pick up the little ringed plovers. My search turned up my season’s first skylarks, followed by a pintail sleeping among the ducks near the water’s edge. The water itself was teeming with wigeon and teal, while 21 avocets fed.

Before long, I spotted one of the little ringed plovers and quickly shared its location with the others. With little else of note - aside from a small flock of linnets passing through, and a skylark briefly mimicking the stance of a wheatear - we made our way back to the car. On the way, we paused to watch a Cetti’s warbler as it called a couple of times and moved to a new perch.

Next stop was Monkton Heathfield where a rose-coloured starling had been reported around the rear of someone's back garden and in the tall trees around the park beyond. Karen and Dean had visited the previous weekend, and Karen had some rather stunning photographs.

The rose-coloured starling, also known as the rosy starling, is a rare but increasingly frequent visitor to the UK, especially during the summer and autumn, though occasional winter records exist. It breeds in Eastern Europe and Central Asia, moving to India and the Middle East in winter - the increase in UK records is likely related to climate change and shifting migration patterns.

Its size is similar to our native starling with adult males in breeding plumage sporting a striking pink body with glossy black head, wings, and tail, and a long, slightly curved pale bill. Females and juveniles have buff-brown plumage, making them harder to distinguish from young native starlings.

The bird spotted in Monkton Heathfield has been identified as a first-winter male, based on its plumage and bill colouration; it has been seen both perched in trees and hiding in brambles.

We took our positions and began scanning the treetops and nearby gardens. Between us stood a dense wall of brambles - the bird’s chosen hiding spot. Inside, a group of starlings called persistently, their chatter competing with the house sparrows that flitted between the garden, brambles, and surrounding trees.

We soon learned that the bird had made a brief appearance just five minutes before we arrived - typical luck - before vanishing back into the brambles. And there, we assumed, it remained for well over an hour until Dean finally spotted it emerging, perching on a branch for only a few seconds before dropping out of sight again. I managed to catch sight of it just as it flew down.

Determined to relocate it, we resumed scanning the brambles. Against the odds, someone managed to pick it out, though it was heavily obscured by stems and tangled foliage. After seeing it through my binoculars, I attempted a photograph, relying on manual focus since the autofocus struggled with the dense cover. I managed to capture something, and as the bird appeared settled, often closing its eyes, we decided to move on in search of another target: a yellow-browed Warbler. Having somehow avoided seeing one in 2024, this was the perfect chance to add it to my year list.

The yellow-browed warbler is a brightly marked warbler that is a regular autumn migrant in the UK, most commonly seen between September and November, with peak numbers in October. They are found in wooded areas, coastal scrub, and parks, especially those with sycamores, willows, or ivy-covered trees. It breeds in Siberia and parts of northern Asia, migrating to Southeast Asia for winter. UK birds are mostly vagrants, blown off course by strong easterly winds in autumn.

They are tiny, not dissimilar to a goldcrest but with greenish upperparts, pale underparts, and distinct yellow eyebrow (supercilium) and two pale wing bars. Numbers in the UK have increased significantly in recent decades. More birds are now overwintering, possibly due to climate change and milder winters.

We arrived on the road leading to Wells Sewage Treatment Works (STW) in Somerset, where the yellow-browed warbler had been reported since 28 February. Karen and Dean had tried for it the previous weekend but had no luck. This time, after speaking with friends, they had a better idea of where to look.

As we approached the area, we met another birder also searching for the warbler, and he joined us as we walked further along the track toward the most likely spot. Within minutes, we found the bird, actively feeding alongside a goldcrest and calling. It was quite distant, making photography seem unlikely, but we gave it a go. It remained in the same area, foraging on the right-hand side of a tree, and its calls reassured us it was still present. A fantastic bird to watch and a great addition to the year list.

I’d been battling a cold all day, and by 3:45 pm, it was time to call it a day and head home. The journey took around 2 hours and 45 minutes, but it had been a fantastic outing, well worth the effort.

Year list: 134.