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.
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