WWT Welney & Wildlife BCN Summer Leys :: 19 April l2025

With rain forecast to sweep in from the west toward Banbury, Kev @kev07713 and I decided to head east instead. Rather than venturing all the way to Norfolk, we opted for a visit to WWT Welney, hoping to catch some early sightings and stay ahead of the approaching weather front. Since the reserve doesn’t officially open until 9.30am, we weren’t in a rush, stopping for breakfast enroute, pausing to listen for corncrakes (a bit early, but worth a try), and doing some birding around the car park and Visitor Centre.

As expected, there wasn’t a peep from the usual corncrake spot, so we ended up in the car park, where a Cetti’s warbler and several sedge warblers provided a lively soundtrack. Out on the water, around 63 black-tailed godwits looked striking in their breeding plumage, while a pair of avocets fed nearby, frequently vanishing behind a small island.

The house sparrows were being noisy as usual, visiting the feeding station on the far side of the Visitor Centre - they were joined by a handful of tree sparrows, all too rare a sighting these days. Tree sparrows are a nice highlight and here at Welney is one of the more reliable places to see them. Unlike the more common house sparrow, tree sparrows have a rich chestnut crown, distinctive black cheek spots, and a slightly more slender build. Their numbers fluctuate, but WWT Welney manages the habitat to support them, including nest boxes and winter feeding. The house sparrows shouldn't be overlooked though - in detail they are stunning in their own right.

We scanned across the bay and found the black-tailed godwits in better light - they are a striking sight as many had begun to show their bright breeding plumage, rich chestnut-orange on the chest and neck, contrasting with greyish backs and long, straight bills. These birds were said to be Icelandic breeders, wintering in the UK before typically heading north in late March to April.

As we waited, several birders slipped in through the side door of the Centre, a practice that was once common and permissible, but is now clearly prohibited by signage. A reserve warden soon joined us and expressed frustration at their disregard for the rules, explaining that the group had been spoken to and reminded not to do it again. With just a couple of minutes to go before opening, he thanked us for our patience and personally escorted us upstairs into the Centre, letting the other staff know he had brought us in. After signing in, we headed back out to the deck to scan the pools and fields. In the far distance, two spoonbills were resting, one eventually stirred and began to feed, giving us a better view.

About half distance we could see three Chinese water deer sometimes feeding and at other times sat partially obscured by the reeds. Unlike other UK deer species, Chinese Water Deer lack antlers. Instead, males sport prominent downward-pointing tusks (elongated upper canines) which have earned them the nickname “vampire deer.” Both sexes have large, rounded ears and a compact, teddy bear–like face. Their coats are a warm ginger-brown, and they are slightly smaller than roe deer but larger than muntjac. Originally native to China and Korea, Chinese water deer were introduced to the UK in the late 19th century. They now thrive in the Fens, particularly in Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, Bedfordshire, and Buckinghamshire. Wetlands like Welney, with their reed beds, riverbanks, and open fields, provide ideal habitat.

Soon we made our way out to the reserve as there have been several garganey lately and it was suggested that there was likely three still remaining. When we got to the hide, we were pleased to find they were in the open but unfortunately asleep - three drakes. We watched as they occasionally twitched or raised their head, only to put it back down. You had to stay vigilant to capture any shots of them with a head up. They are a special seasonal highlight and are the only species of duck that breeds in the UK but winters entirely in Africa, making them true long-distance migrants. Males are particularly striking with a bold white eyestripe, grey body, dark crown, and chestnut face. I was glad to have caught up with these as I hadn't had an opportunity to visit a local pair at Bicester Wetlands a few weeks before.

We had hoped to be able to locate a cuckoo, but we weren't able to even hear one. We pushed on and eventually I ticked my first reed warbler of the year - distant, in the reeds, and soon away deeper and out of sight. After a while I heard a sedge warbler that was much closer to me - perhaps this would be the one I'd get a view of ... and did I! - another year tick.

We stopped by the hide where we'd seen and heard the Savi's warbler last year and noticed that the reeds and surrounding vegetation were much shorter - clearly, we were earlier in the season. Although sedge warblers were singing, none showed themselves. Out in front, a pair of whooper swans lingered, perhaps considering nesting as has happened on rare occasions at the site. A few great white egrets were also present, with one pausing in front of the hide for a while, offering reasonable views.

We walked around but couldn't find anything else of note and eventually decided to drop back into the Visitor Centre where we stopped for a coffee and a scone - we were almost back when there was a report of a flypast bittern that had dropped out of view. On the sightings board we could see that the bittern was the only species we hadn't connected with. We took one last look out from the deck and Kev picked out a very distant peregrine perched on a clod of earth.

After a rewarding morning, we decided to begin the journey home, with a planned stop at Wildlife BCN's Summer Leys reserve - we'd seen reports of 4-5 greenshanks and had still to add them to our year list. As soon as we pulled into the car park, we were greeted by the song of a willow warbler. We headed in its direction and were treated to excellent views accompanied by almost continuous singing. The willow warbler showed very well, and we spent a good while watching it as it relocated around the area.

We also kept an ear out for a grasshopper warbler, as one had been reported earlier in the week. Kev had managed to see it on a previous visit, but I’d missed that opportunity, as well as the four at Farmoor, due to work commitments. Hopefully, I’ll catch up with one before long.

A birder, presumably not local, introduced himself as Chris and struck up a conversation with us. Kev was attempting to film the warbler at the time, so the chat was a bit of a distraction, though one he's well used to. After a while, Chris went over to apologise to Kev for accidentally stepping in front of his scope during recording. Just then, a couple of birders passed by and let us know that two whimbrels had just landed on the scrape and were visible from the Pioneer Hide. Without hesitation, we abandoned our post and made our way over.

"As is often the case, the birds had positioned themselves perfectly between the two hides (Pioneer and the Paul Britten / Double-Decker) making viewing a bit of a challenge. The two whimbrels were resting alongside three of the four greenshanks, all fast asleep with their heads tucked under their wings. The fourth greenshank was actively feeding off to the right, near the far edge of the scrape. Both species were welcome year ticks. A short while later, we also picked out a couple of little ringed plovers darting around on the exposed patches of land poking above the water."

Whimbrel are generally a notable and brief passage migrant during the spring in the UK, usually mid-April to early-May. The Autumn passage is longer but Spring is more concentrated and localised. During migration they sometimes drop into wet grasslands, scrapes, or reservoirs (like here at Summer Leys, or Farmoor), in singles, pairs, or in small flocks. Smaller and slimmer than the similar curlew it has crown stripes - bold dark-and-light patterning on the head, and a shorter bill. In general, they do not breed in the UK, although a small number do in Scotland, but the majority are heading to Iceland, Scandinavia, and Arctic Russia for the summer. They winter far south of the UK mainly in West Africa, with some populations reaching South Asia and coastal South America. They are truly long-distant migrants with some flying 6,000-8,000km between their breeding and wintering grounds.

We spent a while watching the whimbrel preen, though they remained largely in the same spot. Hoping for a better angle and perhaps a garden warbler enroute, we made our way to the Paul Britten Hide but had no luck with the warbler. From this side, the birds were slightly closer than we'd first thought, although the sun was now against us, making photography more difficult. The scrape remained quiet until something unseen startled the birds into flight. We briefly worried the whimbrel might leave entirely, but after circling the scrape, they returned to their original spot.

The whimbrel and the greenshank were now much more active and ranged around the scrape but within 25m both left and right - the little ringed plovers did the same. Three yellow wagtails also dropped in for a wash and brush up.

Kev and I scanned the larger body of water and Kev year ticked common terns but all too soon it was time to head for home - another fantastic day birding.

Year list: 173.

Barford Aerodrome :: 18 April 2025

Since it was Good Friday and a national holiday, I had the day off work. Charlotte had made plans to meet some friends for breakfast, which gave me a few free hours, just enough time to sneak out for a bit of birding. I hadn’t seen a wheatear yet this year, so I decided to head over to Barford Aerodrome, a reliable spot for passage migrants around this time of spring.

Wheatears are one of the classic signs of spring in the UK. They are small, upright songbirds that migrate thousands of miles from their wintering grounds in sub-Saharan Africa to breed in the UK, usually arriving as early as mid to late March, numbers build through April. According to the Oxon Birding Blog's March 2024 review, the first wheatear sighting in Oxfordshire occurred on 15 March, which is two days earlier than the median arrival date of 17 March since 2000.

Cooler temperatures in March and early April may have influenced wheatear migration patterns. In Oxfordshire, temperatures during this period were often below average, with several days experiencing lows below freezing. - such conditions may have delayed the arrival of migratory birds as they rely on the weather and food availability.

They favour open, stony fields or pastures and are often found perching on rocks, fence posts, or hopping along the ground.

I was surprised, and a bit dismayed, to see that much of the shrub and scrub cover had been cleared from the area, reducing the available habitat. I honestly can’t imagine why anyone would go to the trouble of removing it. I’d heard that a few migrant birds spotted in recent days hadn’t been in their usual spots out in the fields but were instead turning up on the old runway.

RAF Barford is currently a non-flying military facility operated by the United States Air Force (USAF). Since 1951, it has functioned as a communications centre and serves as a satellite station to RAF Croughton. The site houses several large communications aerials and plays a role in signals intelligence operations.

While the base remains operational, much of its surrounding land is utilized for agricultural purposes, including sheep grazing, and there is minimal visible activity.

I set up my scope and began scanning the area, eventually picking out a single female-type wheatear at a considerable distance off to my left. After a few more minutes, I managed to spot two more, this time helped by the fact they’d perched up on a fence. I grabbed a couple of record shots, just in case, and soon noticed that one of the birds had moved on. The remaining wheatear was being harassed by a skylark, which faced it down before both eventually flew off.

Despite a bit more searching, I couldn't turn up any more wheatears. I did, however, chat briefly with another birder who was out for a short walk. He apparently conducts survey work for the Banbury Ornithological Society’s long- and short-day counts in this area. He wasn’t planning to stay long and soon continued along the track.

Eventually, I moved on and caught up with him. He’d just spotted a corn bunting perched on a tree with bare, dead branches. I quickly lowered my scope and managed to get onto the bird, it was still there, but only for a few brief moments before it disappeared. We chatted a bit more before he headed off home, while I stayed behind, hoping the bunting would return.

A while later, I noticed a bird in flight in the distance and I tracked it as it landed on one of the last remaining trees. Through the scope, I confirmed it was the corn bunting again. This time, it lingered for nearly ten minutes before dropping out of sight - I managed to relocate it again, perched on a fence, though still at a considerable distance, before it moved on once more.

I waited, and eventually my patience paid off - the bunting returned to the same tree with the dead branches, giving me a much clearer view. After a short while, it took off again, flying low over a field of rape. I followed it as best I could and managed to spot it perched among the plant stalks. It’s always a treat to see this species here, especially since I usually only ever see a single bird, though I imagine there must be more around ...

I started to walk back to the car and stopped to watch some activity from the skylarks - the place was alive with them. On one pass I tried to photograph one. The skylark's song in spring is one of the most iconic and uplifting sounds of the British countryside. Its song is a long, complex, and continuous warble, often delivered in flight, as the bird spirals upwards into the sky - it can sing for 2–5 minutes straight, sometimes even up to 10 minutes! The male sings to defend his territory and attract a mate.

I reached the spot where I'd viewed the wheatears from earlier and spotted one a bit closer - I took the opportunity to take some better record shots, all the time watched by the sheep and their new-born lambs.

Kev had been in touch to say he'd seen some stonechats on this site a couple of days ago and once I'd seen them, I watched as a red kite quartered the fields behind looking for any treat it might come across.

I jumped in the car and headed for home, but detoured to have a look and see if I could locate a whinchat that had been reported the night before - no luck. However, I was able to locate one of the little ringed plovers reported to be on site - might they stay or are they just on passage - we'll see.

A short outing but good to catch up with another arriving spring migrant.

Year list: 166.

Newhaven & Linky Down :: 12 April 2025

Friday night’s discussion revolved around whether Kev @kev07713 and I should make the effort to catch up with ring ouzels or venture a bit further to try our luck with the woodchat shrike in Newhaven, East Sussex - a species I continue to dip, making it an easy decision for me.

We set off early, but before even reaching the M25, we were delayed by about 20 minutes due to a lorry fire - all but the cab had been destroyed. We pushed on and paused for breakfast on the outskirts of Newhaven before heading down to the pinned location - some expert driving from Mr H got us there smoothly.

As we arrived, we noticed a small group of birders already on site. Just as we stepped out of the car, a bit of excitement sparked as a woman said she had the bird in view. I grabbed my camera, leaving the binoculars and scope for now, while Kev just brought his bins. We joined the search, as it seemed the bird had just dropped deeper into the brambles ...

The woodchat shrike (so I’m told!) is a striking passerine, easily recognised by its bold black-and-white plumage and rich chestnut crown. Males and females look similar, though females tend to appear a little duller. It’s a relatively small bird, roughly an inch larger than a sparrow. Woodchat shrikes breed mainly in southern Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa, and while they’re rare in the UK, they are regular spring visitors, typically seen as overshooting migrants during their northward passage.

They prefer open landscapes with scattered trees or bushes, coastal scrub, heathland, or farmland margins are ideal. Southern coastal areas, such as East Sussex and the Isles of Scilly, are particular hotspots. The individual we were after, a first-winter female, had been frequenting Newhaven Harbour, East Sussex, and had been consistently reported for about a week - first seen on 4th April.

After an hour or so on site, it became increasingly clear the initial sighting may have been a misidentification and that the bird had quietly moved on overnight. The skies had been clear, and a full moon might have encouraged onward migration. We searched along the slope and nearby areas, hoping she might simply be feeding out of sight, but no luck. Still, we were treated to some excellent views of fulmars patrolling the nearby cliff face.

As of 2025, the UK is thought to support around 350,000 breeding pairs of fulmars. About 97% of them breed in Scotland, particularly along the rugged cliffs of the north and west. Although fulmars first bred in England in 1922, they’re now found nesting along many English coastlines. Breeding usually begins in late spring, typically from May onwards, but we observed a pair mating, perhaps a slightly early start, likely encouraged by the warm weather in recent weeks. They nest on steep sea cliffs like those in front of us, laying a single egg per season.

The fulmar’s flight style is one of its most distinctive and captivating traits. With long, narrow wings held stiff and straight, they seem to glide with minimal effort, giving a mechanical, almost ghostlike smoothness to their aerobatic movements. Unlike gulls, which flap frequently and exhibit more flexible wing motion, fulmars lock into the wind, cutting through the air with precision.

We saw several pairs along the cliffs, including one confirmed mating, suggesting this site is likely a reliable breeding location for the species.

We watched as a raven glided down onto a ledge before moving to a large stick nest tucked into a crevice. Not long after, a second bird appeared, likely the male. He stayed for a few minutes before taking off, circling overhead, and then swooping toward a spot where a group of feral pigeons had gathered, scattering them.

Ravens are widespread across the UK, including coastal areas, and seem to be doing well overall. Current estimates put the UK population at somewhere between 7,000 and 12,000 breeding pairs.

This is the largest member of the crow family with a wingspan of 1.2 - 1.5m. They were once rare and persecuted but are now steadily increasing in number thanks to legal protection and rewilding. They have a deep croaky call / "kronk" and once heard is never forgotten; often their call is what alerts you to their approach - or that they are mobbed by other birds, often crows or rooks.

Usually the ravens and fulmars can nest on the same cliffs but occupy different parts as they have very different nesting behaviour and styles. However, as ravens are opportunistic they might predate any unattended fulmar eggs or chicks if given the chance.

Fulmars nests though are usually well-defended - the fulmar's defence tactic is legendary and disgusting! When threatened by predators, the fulmar will forcefully eject a foul-smelling oily substance from its stomach (up to 2 meters) - it is highly effective against feathers and can ruin a predator’s plumage making it unable to fly or waterproof properly, sometimes fatally. While they may look quietly perched on a cliff, they are armed and dangerous!

As we waited, a crow hopped around in front of us and eventually walked along a concrete structure and up onto the fence beside me - he really wanted me to take his photo.

By now, it was pretty clear we’d missed our target bird. However, there were reports of purple sandpipers further down the coast, including a few seen on the wooden pier just behind us - confirmed by one of the local birders. We headed along the road to try and get a view of the lower horizontal beams beneath the pier.

Kev set up his scope on the sea wall while I continued around to the harbour entrance. There, I spotted a couple of birds roosting as the high tide approached. I doubled back to let Kev know - he hadn’t been able to see them from his position, so I dragged him around to where I’d been standing, and sure enough, he got on them - a year tick for him. Newhaven is actually a notable location for purple sandpipers - tough little waders that favour rocky shorelines. The spot we were at is a reliable one at high tide, where they often gather alongside turnstones and rock pipits. I’m lucky to get great views of them along the Ayrshire coast when I visit family there, but it’s always a pleasure to connect with them wherever I can.

We made our way back to the car and stopped to watch three linnets that had been working the field on the opposite side of the fencing through most of the morning. As of the latest data available, the UK's breeding population of linnets is estimated to be between 500,000 and 1,000,000 pairs and consistent with avian population estimate reports published in 2020. While these numbers seem healthy there has been a long-term decline in numbers - 57% between 1970 and 2014 alone. Due to the rate of decline the linnet is now classified as a species of high conservation concern and is included on the UK's Red List.

Linnets are often seen in large flocks, but the ones we came across were likely beginning to pair up for the breeding season, having split away from the bigger groups - flocks of around 90 birds aren’t unusual along this stretch of coastline. One male stood out as he was coming into his breeding plumage, showing a lovely flush of red across his breast. At times, the birds came in quite close, feeding just beyond the low wall on the far side of the fence.

We checked Birdguides to see if there was anything local worth chasing, but everything of interest was over an hour away and would only take us further from home. After a quick chat, we decided to head for Linky Down, part of the Aston Rowant National Nature Reserve. Set atop the Chiltern Hills, the area offers sweeping views across the Oxfordshire Vale. It’s classic chalk downland, well known in summer for its rich variety of wildflowers and butterflies and is a site that in past springs has produced ring ouzels, redstarts, and wheatears.

From the car park, we followed the path along the ridge before descending view over the valley floor. Along the way, we picked up chiffchaff and blackcap, and eventually reached a gate where the entire valley opened out below us. We scanned thoroughly, but aside from pheasants and a dozen or so magpies, there was nothing stirring, not even a blackbird, let alone our hoped-for ring ouzel. Behind us, skylarks called from the fields.

Kev decided to take the weight off, lowering his scope to scan from a seated spot on the grassy slope. I climbed the hill behind us and crossed over to check a patch where I’ve seen ring ouzels in previous years but had no luck today. On my way back, just as I was nearing Kev, I noticed a butterfly flitting low before landing on a bit of scrub. I recognised it instantly, a green hairstreak. I’m not sure I’ve ever actually seen one before, but there it was. Before I could lift the camera, it took off and vanished over the scrub. Damn.

The green hairstreak is the UK's only truly green butterfly, recognised by its vibrant, metallic green underwings. While widespread across the UK, it is considered local in distribution and is not commonly found in any particular area. Between 1976 and 2019 records show a decline of about 38%, with a 16% reduction in distribution. Despite these declines, the species is not currently listed as threatened in the UK. In 2024, the UK experienced one of the worst years on record for butterflies, with over half of the monitored species showing long-term declines. While specific short-term data for this species isn't detailed, the overall trend suggest continued pressure on its population.

This is a small butterfly and shows bright green wings with a faint streak of white spots but with dull brown upper sides. It rests with its wings closed, making the green underwings visible - adults are typically on the wing from April to June. This reserve’s mix of chalk grassland, scrub and woodland edges creates an ideal habitat for them. They lay their eggs on a range of plants like gorse, broom, bird's-foot trefoil, and blackthorn, all of which are present on the reserve. The south-facing slopes and scrubby edges provide sheltered sunny spots, perfect for basking and feeding.

I mentioned it to Kev, and not long after, I spotted it again - possibly the same one, or maybe another - and pointed out the location. We then watched as this one, and a second, began working the area where I’d first seen one. Before long, we were able to track them as they settled, often returning to the same favoured stems.

Having spent a bit of time with these small butterflies, we started to notice other insect life around us. One that stood out was a dark-edged bee-fly, my first of the year. Kev mentioned he’d seen a few in his garden recently and had shown them to his wife. During the pandemic, when we were all stuck at home, I remember watching a few in my own garden - they seemed particularly fond of my dandelions - a photo in a previous blog.

Eventually, we made our way back to the car, spotting a chiffchaff and a few other species flitting around a water trough, likely stopping for a drink in the pleasantly warm weather. We set off for home and got back earlier than usual. Despite missing our target bird, it had been a thoroughly enjoyable day out.

Year list: 163.