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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Year list: 189.

Newlyn / Hayle, Cornwall & Clifton Pits :: 28 February & 02 March 2026

News of a Ross's gull turning up at Newlyn, Cornwall has produced excitement across the birding community. With just under 100 accepted records in the UK, it remains one of the most sought-after gulls for British birders; it is classified as an "accidental" visitor to Britain, with this Arctic species usually found drifting across pack ice than along the shores of Cornwall. Most historical sightings have occurred in northern and eastern coastal areas, particularly Shetland and Yorkshire, though birds have occasionally reached further south.

Reports from the harbour at Newlyn has drawn birders from across the country, all hoping for a glimpse of this elegant wanderer. While Cornwall has built a reputation for turning up rare seabirds and transatlantic vagrants, a Ross's gull is still an exceptional visitor. Kev @kev07713 and I decided this was a bird we had to see, hatching a plan to leave early on Saturday morning and make the drive down to Newlyn Harbour for sunrise.

Most British records have been very brief, often just a few hours to a couple of days - birds frequently move on quickly. This bird had been present for 6 days and so there was a real chance that it could depart at any time - a long way to go for a potential dip, but the bird was worth it.

We stopped briefly on the way, just outside Penzance, for a comfort break and to pick up some breakfast, arriving almost exactly as planned at 7.10am. We’d heard from Kev’s sister Karen @hobbylovinglife that she and Dean @worlebirder had already arrived, but so far there was no sign of the bird. Stepping out of the car, we joined the small group already scanning the harbour, hopeful that the gull would appear later in the morning. Meanwhile, Karen and Dean, and a handful of other birders, had moved off to check the beaches on either side of the harbour. The view across the harbour in the early morning light was magnificent.

We walked around to the landward side of the harbour and soon came across first one, then fifteen, and before long many more turnstone. We watched as they gathered and dispersed repeatedly, clearly hoping someone might feed them. On at least three occasions I watched people scatter food on the ground; one of them operating from one of the units along the harbour wall and, I’m told, does this quite regularly.

Later, seemingly expecting the same treatment from me, the birds began following behind in a neat line as I walked along, giving me the rather amusing feeling of being the Pied Piper.

We joined half a dozen or so people overlooking the harbour at Newlyn Harbour, scanning the likely spots where the bird might be perched, including the roofs of the surrounding buildings, but without any success. Our search soon extended to the beach visible beyond the harbour wall and out across the bay, and gradually we worked our way along towards the edge of the harbour mouth.

Every so often I glanced back towards the birders still positioned further inside the harbour, just in case someone had picked up the bird. On one such look back I spotted a familiar face - a birder we know from Oxfordshire, Ewan Urquhart @Stormvogel99. Eventually we strolled back down through the harbour, by which point Karen and Dean had returned, giving us the chance to catch up with them and have a chat with Ewan. As we did so, another familiar face arrived - a birder we often bump into, Shaun Evans (@sevans1032). It was beginning to feel less like a twitch and more like an informal gathering of friends.

We all milled around the harbour, waiting and scanning. By about 9.45am there was still no sign of the Ross's gull, which might have been cause for concern, but most people remained quietly optimistic - although a negative sighting had been posted on X. At the same time, birders were aware there were other species to see locally, and gradually people began drifting away one by one. Before long only half a dozen of us remained - Ewan had gone off in search of a coffee, Karen and Dean had gone in search of a dipper, while Shaun set off along the coast towards Mousehole.

A Pacific diver had also been reported nearby, usually seen from the harbour up towards Penlee Point Lighthouse, which sits just south of the harbour and marks the western side of the entrance to Mount’s Bay. Kev and I decided to drive up to the stretch of coast indicated and take a look. If our bird was called on BirdGuides, we’d be no more than a five-minute drive away. On our way back to the car, we bumped into Cliff Smith @01000011S buying a coffee, and who I think had previously been at Hayle Estuary searching for the ring-billed gull. Having failed to find it, he had decided to give this site a try instead.

We pulled into a lay-by on an elevated stretch of the coast and began scanning the water with our scopes. A great northern diver was soon picked up and, quite unexpectedly, the Pacific diver as well - something we managed to confirm later after reviewing Kev's video footage. Shaun joined us and managed to pull a black-throated diver out of the bag too. Before we had time to properly settle in or move further along the coast, a shout went up from some birders about fifty metres up the pavement: the Ross's gull was flying from right to left and heading towards the harbour. It was very distant but still unmistakable.

While adult Ross's gulls show a delicate pink flush and a distinctive wedge-shaped tail, this was a first-winter bird. It showed soft grey upperparts and clean white underparts, giving it a very pale overall appearance. A clear dark ear spot behind the eye would later stand out on the otherwise white head, and the bill was small and black.

In flight the bird looked particularly striking. The pale grey upperwings were crossed by a bold dark “W”-shaped pattern, created by the darker carpal bar and the trailing edge of the wings, a reported classic feature of young Ross's gulls. The wings were long and buoyant, giving the bird an almost tern-like quality as it moved among the surrounding gulls.

We quickly jumped back into the car, packed Shaun into the back seats and headed for the harbour. On the way to our parking spot Kev called Karen to make sure they were aware the bird had returned. They hadn’t heard the news and immediately hot-footed it down through the village, picking up Cliff on the way.

We arrived at the harbour just in time to see the bird over the water inside the harbour itself, where it drifted about for a minute or two. It then flew towards the harbour mouth, passing along the harbour wall before disappearing from view behind the units that line it. Ewan was in the perfect position as the bird went along the wall and must have enjoyed particularly good views.

We’d already enjoyed excellent views and would have been happy if that had been all we saw, though we still hoped the bird might have dropped onto the beach on the far side, as it had reportedly done on previous days. Most people moved to the other side of the harbour wall, to a vantage point overlooking the beach, only to find people scattered around - hardly ideal conditions for the gull to land there. At times during its stay, the Ross’s gull had been reported perched on the roof of the nearby Lidl supermarket, so some scanned that area carefully with their scopes, but it was not to be.

We eventually gave up here and started back to the harbour, stopping for a coffee and Cornish pasty on the way. We sat on a step along the harbour wall and started eating but before we could all finish a call went up that our bird had reappeared at the harbour mouth and we all shot up there with at least two dozen people now being in the group. The bird entertained us there for almost two hours - tens of thousands of photos must have been taken.

The bird fed by picking small prey items from the water’s surface, snatching insects, small fish, and crustaceans without diving fully - sometimes flying low over water, skimming the surface to catch plankton or tiny invertebrates. Occasionally, it hovered briefly before plunging slightly to catch prey just beneath the surface, but it was not a deep diver like a tern.

We’d taken countless photos, Kev had captured some video, and we had spent a long, enjoyable time being treated to close views by this gull. So, when it spun around the harbour and disappeared, we took that as our cue to leave and start heading home. Our plan now included a stop at Hayle Estuary to try for the ring-billed gull reported earlier on BirdGuides. Most of our companions seemed to have the same idea, and we all regrouped on the causeway overlooking the shallow water and the birds gathered there.

More than a dozen people were spread out in a loose line, and within minutes someone spotted the ring-billed gull, which had presumably been asleep with its head tucked under its wing until then. At this distance, scopes were essential, and the key field mark for identification was the bright yellow legs (and the bill) - absent in the many common gulls in the flock. Soon we were all on the bird. It preened briefly before settling down again, giving me another lifer before promptly going back to sleep.

We waited patiently, and before long the birds became restless, moving around and giving us more chances to get clear views of the gull.

Among the dunlin were a handful of bar-tailed godwits - the very birds I’d gotten up early to search for along the beach in Troon just a couple of weeks before. I couldn’t help thinking, well, I could have had a lie-in! - though, of course, they’re always a delight to see.

A birder to our left then picked out a curlew sandpiper within a small flock of dunlin further out in the estuary. Although it was distant, it was relatively easy to locate through the scopes, and I even managed a couple of record shots despite the range. Another year tick, and entirely unexpected.

We then enjoyed scanning on this and the other side of the causeway before saying our goodbyes to everyone and getting on the road, ready for a journey of at least 4½ hours.

Monday arrived, and with Charlotte out, I decided to make another twitch, this time much closer to home - 39 miles as the crow flies. I messaged Kev to see if he was free, but he was tied up, so I headed solo to Clifton Pits, Worcestershire, where a Richardson’s cackling goose had been reported since 24th February. There’s a lay-by on the A38 giving access to the Severn Way footpath, which leads to the north end of a waterbody where the bird had been frequenting with a small flock of Canada geese.

I parked and made my way to the site, finding a lone birder already in position. Disappointingly, he hadn’t managed to see the goose despite scanning. I set up my scope and went through the key features to watch for, and within moments he located the bird and seconds later, so did I. The Richardson’s cackling goose was chasing one of the larger Canada geese across the water before settling back into the flock. I managed a few record shots, though the bird was on the opposite bank from where we stood.

The Richardson’s cackling goose (Branta hutchinsii richardsonii) is a small, compact goose that is part of the broader cackling goose complex, once lumped in with the Canada goose. My friend Nick Truby posted that it was one of Jim's - he had to explain to me about the Latin name hutchinsii, as I am hard of understanding - our other birding friend is Jim Hutchins ...

It is one of the smallest forms of Branta hutchinsii, and noticeably daintier than the familiar Canada goose. Richardson’s cackling goose has a short, stubby neck, a relatively small head, and a stubby, short bill. Its plumage is strikingly similar to the Canada goose, with a black head and neck, white cheek patches, and a brownish-grey body, but the smaller size is the main field mark.

These geese are highly social outside the breeding season, often forming mixed flocks with Canada geese. and are grazers, feeding mainly on grasses, sedges, and other vegetation, though they will also forage in agricultural fields during migration and winter. They breed in the Arctic tundra of western Canada and Alaska, nesting near lakes and wetlands. During the winter, they migrate south to the western United States, with significant numbers wintering in California, Oregon, and the central plains. Richardson’s cackling goose is a very rare visitor to Britain and Ireland, and only a small number of individuals have been recorded here - all subspecies of Branta hutchinsii total up to around 77 accepted UK records.

Eventually the goose clambered out of the water, preened briefly, and then began feeding as it moved up the slope, gradually becoming more distant. Before long, I packed up my kit, said my goodbyes to the first and another birder who had just arrived, and headed home.

Year list: 185.