Happy New Year! - the great reset is upon us.
It’s an exciting time for geese both locally and across the country and while I kicked off my 2026 list by counting birds in the garden, later in the afternoon, when my wife said she’d be busy, I seized the chance to sneak out to RSPB Otmoor for an hour.
Messages on the WhatsApp group suggested the best views of geese would be from the Noke end, particularly the south western side of Ashgrave overlooking Shangri-La (a pool on Ashgrave). I’d never parked at that end before and wondered how straightforward it would be, but there was no need to worry - it was easy, with several suitable places to pull in.
As previously reported, there has been a significant influx of white-fronted and tundra bean geese across the country, with no let-up in sightings after the Christmas period. Even so, I felt it was prudent to tick off both species in case the situation changed - white-fronts will probably linger, but it’s less clear whether the bean geese will disperse or disappear altogether. There was no point in taking chances.
I opted for wellies, having no intel on underfoot conditions, and followed the signed footpath until I encountered some geese. Although there were plenty of Canadas and greylags, neither of the scarcer visitors was immediately apparent. Further on, and out on the pool itself, were large numbers of wigeon, along with some mallard and at least a dozen pintail.
I pressed on and began encountering small groups of white-fronted geese. I then met a birder coming the other way, repeatedly scanning the field. He confirmed the presence of white-fronts, and I mentioned the groups I’d already seen back along the track. He went on to explain where the bean geese were being reported, adding that they were quite a way along the track and were distant - a scope would be needed. Scanning the flocks ahead of me, I was surprised to pick out a tundra bean goose ... and then another, apparently associating with a lone white-fronted goose.
They fed for a few minutes before settling down, though only briefly. After about five minutes they spread out again and resumed feeding on the grass, no longer close enough to capture in a single frame. The other birder was glad he’d stopped to chat, having missed these birds earlier, and with only binoculars he was very pleased to get a look through the scope. He was, however, mildly frustrated to have them so close and not to have brought his camera.
I moved on and continued watching the white-fronts, by now having counted at least fifty. They showed well but were very mobile, repeatedly lifting off and relocating around the fields. I scanned carefully with the scope but couldn’t pick out any more bean geese — perhaps, with the light fading and the sun dropping, they were beginning to drift off towards Big Otmoor to roost?
Out in the field were lapwings, three hares, some muntjac, roe, and fallow deer - the fallow deer were just lovely in the fading light - closing in on the golden hour. Every so often heads would lift in unison, alert to movement, before the herd settled again - a quietly impressive sight.
The light was really beginning to fade, but the calls of three ravens echoed around as they cronked while working the area. Eventually they crossed the field and drifted over the hedge behind me. That felt like the cue to head back and start the journey home - no point in pushing my luck.
Year list: 31.
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