Eyebrook Reservoir & Rutland Water :: 06 September 2025

Our discussion about where to go on Saturday was brief. Kev and I had both read the report of a Baird’s sandpiper at Eyebrook Reservoir, and we’d also had an update from our friend Nick Truby, who had seen it earlier on Friday. Kev had already encountered a couple before, one at Goldcliff Lagoons along the beach, where he had relocated it and then together, last August, we’d also seen one at RSPB Frampton Marsh. That day had been windy, with distant, restless flocks of dunlin and ringed plovers, and it was a real challenge to keep track of the bird at times (my report from then is here). Perhaps we'd have better views of this one, if it stayed overnight – although it was to be clear …

We set off early, allowing time for a stop on the way for a roll and a coffee, and arrived at the Eyebrook Corner car park. From there, we scanned the reservoir to see where birders were gathering. Most seemed to be clustered around the bay where the sandpiper had last been reported, across the water from us, while a few stood nearby along the fence. What was worrying, though, was the lack of any fresh updates on social media or BirdGuides. From what we could tell, everyone was scanning the area rather than watching anything specific. A quick chat with the birders beside us confirmed our concern: the bird hadn’t yet been refound.

Equally concerning was the absence of dunlin and ringed plovers, both reported the previous day, along with most of the other waders we’d seen just a couple of weeks earlier. We scanned thoroughly and managed only a couple of snipe, a pair of ruff, and two green sandpipers. In the pool furthest to our right, a couple of cattle egrets were feeding, and in front of them Kev picked out a whinchat, a garganey, and a couple of stonechats.

After a while, we moved further along to the end of the reservoir, hoping for a better angle into the muddy pools, just in case the sandpiper had tucked itself out of view from our current position. The views were clearer, but no new birds revealed themselves. I was still hoping for an osprey sighting but no such luck.

Birders came and went, but none with any sighting, and this was soon reported on BirdGuides - 'negative news'. Interest shifted when word spread that the grey phalarope had reappeared at Rutland Water near the dam. After giving it another hour, we returned to the car, turned it around, and headed off towards Rutland, pausing briefly to enjoy some yellow wagtails and a couple of cattle egrets in with, appropriately enough, the cattle.

Just a couple of weeks earlier we’d been within a mile of the Rutland Water dam, and Kev had already made a visit during the week to see the phalarope. It was good to have another chance now, especially as the year before last we’d managed Wilson’s, grey, and red phalaropes, but none in 2024. We pulled into the car park and took the short walk down to the beach by the dam, the crunch of shells underfoot marking our approach to the water where, even from a distance, we could see the small bird feeding in the shallows.

In breeding plumage they are striking: mostly reddish underparts, with grey upperparts and a bold white face while in non-breeding/winter plumage (the form usually encountered in Britain), they are pale and delicate-looking with white underparts, soft grey above, and a dark eye patch. They are small waders about the size of a dunlin, but with a shorter, finer bill and are generally tame and approachable, often showing little fear of people. They breed in the high Arctic, mainly Greenland, Canada, Svalbard, and Siberia, wintering far out at sea in the tropical oceans, often well away from land. Their appearances here in Britain are essentially stopovers, usually when weather conditions blow them off course.

The grey phalarope fed actively along the water’s edge, moving with a quick, almost restless energy. It picked delicately at the surface, taking tiny invertebrates from the shallows and damp mud - at times it waded a little deeper, pecking rapidly at items just below the surface. Unlike the spinning behaviour it often shows when feeding at sea, here it worked in short, purposeful bursts - probing, picking, and moving on. Its light, buoyant gait and constant activity gave the impression of a bird always in motion, gleaning food from wherever the water lapped against the shore.

It worked along the water’s edge, picking daintily at the surface and probing into the soft mud. Several times it drew out bloodworms, handling them with quick flicks of its bill before swallowing them down. Then, in contrast to this delicate gleaning, it lunged forward and seized what looked like a small stickleback - Kev caught the moment on his camera - very occasionally they can take very small fry or fish eggs if available, but fish are not a regular or important part of their diet. The combination of precise surface-feeding and opportunistic strikes showed just how adaptable its foraging can be.

Although the reservoir was relatively calm overall, the phalarope still had to contend with the constant ripple of small waves breaking into the shallows. Each time a wavelet reached the shore, the bird bobbed lightly, adjusting its balance with quick, nimble movements. It often paused its feeding for a moment as the water lapped against its legs, then immediately resumed picking at the surface or probing into the mud once the disturbance passed.

I crouched to take a few more photos when Kev suddenly called out - he’d gone back to scanning the water after taking plenty of photos himself: “Osprey!”. On the far side, near the sailing club, an osprey had plunged into the water and by the time I got onto it, the bird was flapping hard, lifting itself out. It looked as though it might have a fish, though we couldn’t be certain. Moments later it gained height and drifted out of sight. At last, my first of the year! I’d been waiting since spring, and now I could add osprey to the phalarope on the year list. Before long, it reappeared in the same area, working the shoreline fishing. From a distance it seemed right against the shore, but as always, it was likely an illusion -the bird was probably well offshore, and I've measured at least 1¾-miles away!

Now that September has arrived, the ospreys’ time here is drawing to a close. Within the next few weeks they will almost all have begun their long migration south, leaving behind the reservoirs and lakes that have sustained them through the summer. Their journey will take them across Europe and the Mediterranean, down into Africa, where they will spend the winter in warmer climates and richer fishing grounds.

While scanning to make sure we hadn't missed anything I spotted a yellow-legged gull, my second encounter of the year - to be fair I saw my first just a mile along the shore from here a couple of weeks ago.

We packed up and decided to call in at Hanging Houghton on the way home, hoping to catch up with the harrier that had been reported there a couple of times earlier in the morning. If nothing else, we knew the whinchats were still about and worth the stop. Sure enough, we were soon watching several whinchats, along with both lesser and common whitethroats. Kestrels hunted overhead, while buzzards and red kites drifted lazily across the sky, but there was no sign of the harrier.

As we walked past the set-aside area, a butterfly with striking colouring shot through. Kev immediately shouted “Clouded yellow!” and we both realised at once that neither of us could recall ever seeing one before, though we instantly recognised it. I confirmed the colours and concluded it was a female.

The clouded yellow is one of our most striking migrant butterflies and with its vivid golden-yellow wings edged in bold black, it’s a butterfly that’s hard to miss, though often frustrating to photograph, as it rarely seems to settle.

This species isn’t a UK resident but a regular visitor, arriving from southern Europe and North Africa. Numbers vary dramatically from year to year: in some summers and autumns they can appear almost abundant, while in others only a few scattered individuals are seen. Warm southerly winds often bring them across the Channel, and they are most often encountered between June and October, with late summer and autumn being the peak time.

In Britain, clouded yellows favour flowery grasslands, clover fields, and set-aside strips, though they can turn up inland almost anywhere. They fly strongly and purposefully, often covering large areas quickly, feeding on nectar from clover, thistles, knapweeds and vetches. Breeding sometimes occurs in southern England, but the species cannot survive the British winter.

We spent the next 45 minutes trying to follow it, hoping for a photograph. The butterfly never settled, darting constantly, and with the lens I had on it was near impossible to keep it in frame long enough to lock focus before it disappeared again. The breeze didn’t help either, carrying it swiftly across wide stretches of the field.

With no harrier to be seen and having worked our way around much of the area, we eventually headed back to the car, just as two birders were pulling up. They, too, were after clouded yellows, having seen reports online, and asked us which hedge was known as “Shrike Hedge.” We shared our sightings and then made our way home.

Year list: 234.

RSPB Fen Drayton :: 30 August 2025

Kev @kev07713 and I weren’t sure where to head, but with heavy rain forecast to sweep in from the west, we decided to make our way east. The obvious target was the white-winged tern reported at RSPB Fen Drayton, with perhaps the added bonus of a drake ring-necked duck – a species that has managed to evade me a couple of times already this year. It would also be our first ever visit to the site, which felt like the perfect chance to try it out and see if it’s somewhere we’d like to return to in the future.

After a minor detour thanks to a wrong turn, we eventually rolled into the reserve. As we approached the car park, we spotted a familiar figure heading in the opposite direction - David Wall. We pulled over for a quick chat and, sure enough, he was also here in search of the white-winged tern. It was good to compare notes before he carried on - with luck, we’d bump into him again later in the day and find out whether he’d had any success.

Nestled in the heart of Cambridgeshire, RSPB Fen Drayton Lakes is a haven for wildlife. Once a network of working gravel pits, the site has been transformed into a rich mosaic of lakes, wetlands, meadows, and woodlands, now supporting an incredible variety of birds and other species. With a network of walking trails - features roughly 16 km of trails spanning mixed terrain (earth, loose chippings, grass), with varying degrees of accessibility - there are plenty of opportunities for birdwatching, and with many views over open water, Fen Drayton is a place to witness the resilience of landscapes given the chance to thrive.

Walking down the track we came across the Cambridgeshire Guided Busway, a unique public transport system stretching approximately 25 km, largely built on the old Cambridge-Huntingdon railway line. Buses travel on a special concrete guideway, allowing smooth, speedy travel, paired with a tarmac path alongside for walking, cycling, and other active travel.

Fen Drayton Lakes benefits from a dedicated guided busway request stop, meaning passengers must signal to the driver if they wish to alight there, and similarly request pick-up. The stop is directly adjacent to the reserve, making access by foot, bike, or bus especially convenient and includes a sheltered platform and a moderately ramped platform with handrails, affording easier access to many users. We should have followed the path running alongside the busway but as was becoming the norm today, we took a wrong turn and added almost a mile to our walk - pleasant though it was, it was not ideal.

We eventually arrived at Moore's Lake where many previous sightings had been reported - would it still be here as it had been clear overnight and present for quite a few days. This sighting marked the 35th ever recorded in Cambridgeshire, with three previous occurrences at Fen Drayton in 2009, 2023, and in early June this year. Our bird was reported to be a juvenile, observed reliably between 23rd and 29th August. As the bird seems to have spent much of its time around Moore Lake, hawking gracefully over the water, dipping for insects, and occasionally settling to rest, this seemed the best place to start.

Juveniles are subtler than the striking adults seen in spring, showing pale grey upperparts, dark ear coverts, and clean white underwings, but no less elegant. For many local birders, it was a chance to study this scarce migrant up close, and for some, it would tick off a county rarity.

We took the turn toward the hide overlooking Moore Lake and settled by the fence line to set up our scopes. From there we had a sweeping view across the water, though a couple of the islands were frustratingly half-hidden from sight. Above us, three hobbies circled high, one darting low and fast across the lake. A handful of common terns were also on the wing, their plumage catching our attention - three revealed themselves to be juveniles - a great white egret paced through the shallows, pausing now and then to strike at unsuspecting prey.

As terns appeared across the water, we investigated each one and always concluded that they were common terns. Both green and common sandpipers fed on the edges of islands and a single ruff worked the same areas. Kev called David to check where he was and found that he'd made his way down to the hide and confirmed that he had seen the same birds as us - he left the hide and walked back up the track to where we were - we watched and chatted with no change.

Eventually we decided that we'd have a look for the ring-necked duck reported on Birdguides about an hour before and found it wasn't too far away, although on the other side of the busway on Drayton Lagoon. We reached the viewing point and set about scanning the birds but failed to locate our duck. After 20 minutes or so three birders went passed and told us that the pin drop on Birdguides was incorrect and that that our bird had been seen on Elney Lake - the pin drop was just a lazy reposting of the previous day's sighting - a bit frustrating.

Then the skies above Fen Drayton treated us to an unexpected airshow. Two aircraft appeared in the distance, their engines growling across the reserve. One, with its graceful elliptical wings and Rolls-Royce Merlin engine, was instantly recognisable as a Spitfire; the other, with sharper lines, proved to be a Messerschmitt. The pair swept back and forth overhead, climbing, diving, and circling each other in a mock dogfight that seemed to bring history vividly to life above the wetlands. It was a surreal and thrilling contrast - the echoes of wartime aviation playing out over a landscape now dedicated to peaceful pursuits and wildlife. We couldn’t have asked for a better vantage point, with mostly clear views, even if the action was a little distant. No apologies for the number of photos below as it was such an experience - probably our favourite "birds" of the day - big metal ones.

We retraced our steps along the track and headed down to the hide overlooking Moore Lake, giving it a good half hour of scanning. Despite our efforts, there was still no sign of the bird we were hoping for. We tried to stay optimistic, but it was beginning to feel as though we’d missed our chance - that it had slipped away overnight or in the early hours. From there we carried on to the far side of Elney Lake, where the earlier sighting had been reported. Plenty of terns were about, but not the one we wanted. The ducks were mostly tufted, with a few mallards and gadwall mixed in for variety. While scanning the reed edge on the distant bank, I was pleased to pick out a water rail creeping in and out of cover, working its way along the margins. It’s always a treat to see one, and this was my first in several months. With no sign of our duck we started to relocate further along the track hoping to be able to see the lake from a different angle. We saw a kingfisher land on an elevated tree branch where it stayed for at most 15 seconds, before dropping onto a lower branch for a further 15 seconds, and left.

As we made our way along the path, we bumped into a couple of birders coming the other way, just as a BirdGuides update came through: the ring-necked duck had relocated to the far eastern end of the lake and was now viewable from the small car park and viewpoint between Elney and Oxholme Lakes. The pair confirmed they’d already seen it, so we pressed on with renewed purpose. Before long we reached the spot, where another couple were already watching and taking photographs. The bird was a long way off - too distant for decent photos or video, and at first I thought it would only be possible to appreciate it properly through the scope. Even so, I gave it a try and was pleased to come away with a couple of passable shots, and the video wasn’t too bad either. I’ve recently fitted a plate to the base of my camera that lets me mount it directly onto my tripod, and it definitely helped with stability at that range.

As we stood watching the lake, the air again filled with the unmistakable roar of Merlin engines. Two Spitfires cruised overhead in tight formation, flying straight, their sleek outlines only briefly visible as they appeared through a gap in the trees behind us. The sound lingered long after they’d gone, reverberating across the reserve. A little later, one of the aircraft returned, its engine note drifting back to us, though this time it stayed mostly hidden beyond the treeline and never passed directly above our position.

The ring-necked duck kept to its routine of preening and diving, stubbornly staying at a frustrating distance with no sign that it would drift any closer. All the diving ducks seemed content to remain in the same area, well out of reach. After a final scan, we said our goodbyes to David, who decided to give Moore Lake one last check, while we turned back towards the car. Later we heard from him that his return visit hadn’t added anything new to his day list, and there had been no further sign of the white-winged tern.

We wrapped up our visit with a final look over Ferry Lagoon, where once again there were plenty of terns but not the one we’d hoped for. A couple of kingfishers flew through. It was a fitting end to a day of near-misses and good encounters. Fen Drayton is a great reserve, but it’s also a large, sprawling site and one where you need to be ready for some walking if you want to make the most of it.

Year list: 232.