The weather had been wet in recent days, but with a red-flanked bluetail within reach having been found on 11 January, Kev @kev07713 and I were determined to try and visit - it would be a first for us both. Weather was only part of the equation - we also had diaries to juggle. All we could do was hope the bird would play ball and remain until Wednesday, and fortuitously the weather was forecast to improve and might work in our favour. Encouraging news came on Tuesday when our friends Bryan and Adrian reported that the bird was still present, showing for around 20 seconds at a time but between times was very elusive. Even so, photographs were hard to come by, and the rain certainly didn’t help.
The red-flanked bluetail is a small passerine that has long enjoyed near-mythical status among UK birders. Once regarded as an exceptional rarity, this Siberian breeder has become a regular autumn vagrant, particularly along Britain’s east coast. For much of the 20th century it was a once-in-a-generation bird, but that perception began to change from the 1990s as records increased steadily, especially in autumn. This rise culminated in 2017, when the species was removed from the British Birds Rarities Committee (BBRC) list. It is now recorded annually, though it remains far from common - there are also rare wintering records, showing the species can survive UK conditions when food is available.
Roughly robin-sized, the red-flanked bluetail is unmistakable when seen well. Adult males show rich blue upperparts and tail, contrasting with clean white underparts and bright orange-red flanks. Our bird, however, was more subtle: females and juveniles are brown above with a distinctive blue tail and rump, a pale eye-ring, and muted orange-red flanks. As reported by our friends, patience is rewarded with brief but striking views.
Even though it’s no longer classed as a rarity, the red-flanked bluetail remains a symbol of autumn birding magic - a reminder that birds from the far edge of Siberia can still turn up in a British hedge on the right day.
We set off in freezing conditions, the sky having cleared overnight, and I was a little late picking up Kev after spending a few minutes scraping ice from the car. Once on the road, though, traffic was kind and we made steady progress to Crockham Hill, on the edge of Kent. After parking up, we joined a couple of dozen birders scattered around the dell and gully. Most were positioned on the higher side of the dell above the gully, so we joined them - the bird, we were told, had been seen there shortly before our arrival. After about ten minutes I noticed that Kev had wandered off, though I assumed he would return as his scope was still standing behind the group. In the meantime, a firecrest and goldcrest worked through the area, along with several nuthatches, while blue tits repeatedly popped up to grab our attention.
After about 30 minutes there was a sudden stir on the lower side of the dell and a few people began heading down, suggesting the bird might have been seen. I grabbed the scope and moved quickly to close the distance, joining a small group scanning high in the trees. I picked up a bird silhouetted against the sky, but before I could stand the scope on the tripod it dropped down and disappeared from view. I couldn’t count that as a tick as although I’d seen the bird, I hadn’t had a view good enough to confirm the species. Kev, on the other side, was luckier: he managed to see the bird properly and even managed a couple of photos, providing confirmation of the sighting. I hoped that I/we'd get another opportunity.
We waited, searched and scanned for the next hour and a half - some of the time searching with people using thermal monoculars or others that had visited on previous days that shared where sightings had been most frequent. Still, we couldn't get another sighting. We could see some people beginning to drift away, perhaps having lost patience - this was very much a waiting game, and despite all eyes on the area, there was still no sign of the bird.
Kev and I edged up to the higher side of the dell, where one of the birders told us he had just seen the bird before it flew up and dropped back and away into the bushes. We waited, but it seemed to have already moved through. Kev then relocated down a nearby short track while I stayed between him and the birder who had seen it most recently, hoping it might still be in the area.
Moments later we heard a whistle, and another birder along a nearby track signalled that someone ahead was on the bird. I called to Kev and we followed quickly away from the dell and gully. We drew level with the birder, who explained that he’d just seen the bird on a small mound at the foot of a tree - the area was dense with thin trees. Seconds later it appeared, flicking up and through the branches - a lifer. We followed as it moved quickly to the right, edging further away from where we’d been and only pausing briefly along the way.
After a minute or two the bird settled on a branch and paused, eventually stopping to preen, crucially on the edge of a clearing and in full view, with nothing obstructing our line of sight. It stayed put long enough for all of us, about half a dozen in total, to get onto it and start taking photos. In hindsight, Kev wished he’d taken some video, but in the moment none of us realised it would show in one place for a couple of minutes.
Eventually, as all good things do, the bird dropped down and moved off, working back into denser cover once more. It was still often visible but mostly obscured by branches and twigs. We watched for another five minutes or so before retreating and making our way back to the car. As we passed other birders, many still waiting at the top of the dell, we let them know about the recent sighting.
Kev also posted the update on BirdGuides, noting that the bird was no longer in the same area repeatedly reported over previous days. Unfortunately, that information was ignored and the earlier details were simply cut and pasted again. Hopefully the bird will continue to show and be found if it moves further from its former regular haunt.
Back at the car, we discussed how to spend the rest of the afternoon - the day had moved on, and we were already nearing lunchtime. After visiting Staines Reservoir on Saturday, we’d continued on to Lemsford Springs to see jack snipe, rather than calling in at Staines Moor. This time, with Staines Moor almost on our route home, we decided to stop there in the hope of catching up with water pipits, pausing enroute for a quick bite of lunch.
We pulled into a parking spot and crossed the railway bridge, first hearing and then seeing ring-necked parakeets, then a great spotted woodpecker. Out on the moor, we noted that the water level was lower than on our visit last year, which surprised us given the recent rainfall. As a result, there were no pipits immediately in view on either side of the river.
We continued on and crossed another bridge, where we paused to listen. Almost immediately we heard a water pipit and scanned the field ahead, but without success. A few minutes later one pipit flew up, followed by another - both water pipits. We lost them into cover, but only a short while later one rose again, calling as it flew off. I managed to follow it and, fortuitously, it landed on the top of a bush, albeit at a considerable distance. The bird was easy enough to see through the scope, but I struggled with the camera; Kev had more luck with his phonescoping. Within a couple of minutes, it was up again and gone, dropping out of view once more. Meadow pipits flew through, and a couple of green woodpeckers perched on distant bushes.
We then heard the calls of a water pipit further down the river towards the railway tracks and noticed a couple of photographers stopping on the opposite bank. We edged closer and set up our scope to scan the pools beside the river bend where it turns to run parallel with the tracks. We soon picked up a couple of water pipits feeding in and along the water’s edge, sometimes close together and at other times well apart and appeared to be different individuals from the bird we’d watched earlier. A few meadow pipits worked the area too, while on the river we watched two little grebes running across the water and a grey wagtail foraging up and down.
We also noted buzzards, grey herons, a little egret, a sparrowhawk, and even ran into a couple of birders we sometimes meet out and about. Before leaving, we heard a Cetti’s Warbler moving through the reeds along the water’s edge, catching brief glimpses as it relocated every thirty seconds or so. We tried to follow it but lost it once it reached the trees, though not before enjoying our best views of it.
Later, as we broke away from watching the water pipits, we heard the warbler again and retraced our steps, repeating the same walk. Once more we had fleeting views as it worked its way back towards the trees, and on this occasion, we were lucky enough to see two birds burst from the reeds, fly the length of them, and drop back out of view. A decent photo wasn’t possible, but I managed a record shot - a year tick regardless.
With the light fading and no recent reports of owls on the moor, we packed up and headed for home, progress initially slow thanks to the time of day and traffic on the M25.
Year list: 113.
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