Over the past few years, Kev @kev07713 and I have made several attempts to catch sight of honey buzzards though, truth be told, largely with limited success. Recently, we heard about some sightings near Woolbeding in Sussex, so we decided to give it another go. The area also offers a chance to hear nightingales, a species we’d yet to tick off our for this year's list. Kev did the research (someone has to!) and found that the best chances of seeing honey buzzards seemed to be between 10.30am and 1.30pm. So, we planned to start the day at RSPB Pulborough Brooks for the nightingales, then head over to try our luck with the buzzards.
Nightingales are one of the great signs of spring in the UK, famous for their rich, melodic songs that brighten the woodlands in April and May. These long-distance migrants travel from West Africa to breed in southern and eastern England. In Sussex, climate change appears to be shifting their arrival earlier, from mid-April in the 1960s to as early as the first week of April more recently. They stick around through the summer before heading back to Africa between July and September.
Male nightingales are best known for their powerful and complex songs, used to attract a mate. Unpaired males often sing through the night, hence the name, while paired ones tend to sing at dawn and dusk. Their unmistakable song, a rich mix of whistles, trills, and gurgles, is one of the most celebrated in the bird world. And since they prefer to stay hidden in dense hedgerows and scrub, it’s often the song that gives them away.
We arrived at the car park before the Visitor Centre had opened and were quickly approached by a woman asking if we knew the site or where to go. It was our first time there too, but she decided to tag along as we made our way along the tracks and onto the reserve. From our vantage point overlooking the pools, we picked out little ringed plovers, dunlin, lapwings, and a few avocets. A garganey had been reported recently, but no matter how hard we looked, we couldn’t track it down.
We followed the track downhill and eventually lost our unexpected companion. A few hundred metres on, we heard the familiar call of a song thrush and then, unmistakably, a nightingale - almost exactly where our friend Adrian Sparrowhawk had reported one recently. Despite our efforts, we couldn't get eyes on it. Some goldcrests and long-tailed tits fluttered around the area.
We continued further along the track and soon came across a birder scanning the trees. We’d just heard another nightingale calling, but before we could catch up to her, she was off. Fortunately, Kev’s sharp ear picked up the song again, and before long, he managed to spot the bird through a small gap in the foliage, having seen it relocate. With a bit of manoeuvring, we get into a good position for a reasonably clear view, and even managed to get a few decent photos.
We eventually decided to loop back and try our luck again with the earlier nightingale, but once more came up empty-handed. With news of honey buzzards being spotted at Woolbeding already, we started heading back toward the Visitor Centre. On the way, we paused again to scan for the elusive garganey, but still no joy - though we did spot another jay, bringing our tally for the day to eleven. Right on cue, a male bullfinch appeared, once again in the exact spot Sparrow had recommended. Passing through the Centre, we noticed it was impressively well-equipped and definitely worth a return visit when we have more time. But for now, we were on a mission.
Following the directions, we pulled into the car park and immediately recognised that Nick @old_caley and Anne Truby were already on site, their car’s number plate gave them away. When we made our way up to the ridge, we bumped into Graham Jepson @GrahamJepson1 who was also there. They told us they’d seen a couple of birds earlier on, one with damaged primary feathers, but things had gone quiet over the past hour or so.
Honey buzzards are elusive summer visitors to the UK, migrating from sub-Saharan Africa and typically arriving around mid to late May. Woolbeding in West Sussex is a regular hotspot for spring sightings. With an estimated breeding population of only around 100 pairs in the UK, they remain a rare and sought-after species.
They are slimmer and longer winged than common buzzards, with a graceful, gliding flight often likened to a kite or harrier. In flight, their small head and flat-winged silhouette are distinctive, especially when soaring. One of the key identification features during spring is their wing-clapping display, two quick slaps of the wings above the body during a rising flight.
Their plumage is highly variable, ranging from pale to rufous, or dark morphs. They often show a dark carpal patch on the underwing, and their long tail typically features three to four bold dark bands.
We set up and joined the watch, but after a short while, Kev wandered off to chat with Nick and Anne, who had positioned themselves to the right of the main group. While he was gone, I spotted a honey buzzard way off to our left, the one with the damaged wing. We tracked it as it quartered across the distant hillside, but eventually it disappeared from view. Each time a buzzard appeared, we carefully scanned it, but they all turned out to be commons. Once again, we caught sight of a bird with a damaged wing to our left, but that too proved to be a common buzzard.
As the morning wore on, we picked up a hawfinch - a nice bonus, especially since five had been reported before we arrived, then followed by a couple of sparrowhawks. About five minutes after the sparrowhawks had vanished over the ridge, one reappeared, this time trailing behind a buzzard. I called the birds out, and Nick quickly confirmed the buzzard was a honey. We all started firing off shots as it drifted low through the valley - a challenge, as it often slipped behind the treetops. Eventually, it climbed higher into the open sky before dropping out of sight altogether.
It seemed an age before we got another sighting, again the honey buzzard with the damaged wing - it was above our head and circling. As we watched it one of the other birders called a second off to our right, which then flew over us and then climbed into the sky, higher and higher.
As the bird roses on a thermal, it suddenly snapped its wings together above its back in two sharp claps, a brief but striking display of power. The action was over in seconds, but unmistakable: a rapid clap-clap in mid-air, followed by a soaring glide. It’s a territorial or courtship display, and always one of the best ways to confirm you’re looking at a honey buzzard rather than a common.
Across the far hillside, we spotted a peregrine falcon and followed its flight for a while, though it remained frustratingly distant. We lingered a bit longer in hope, but eventually it was time to call it a day and head for home. Another fantastic day out.
Year list: 204.
No comments:
Post a Comment