Wyre Forest, Bedfordshire, & Rutland Water :: 09 & 12 May 2026

On a recent visit to the Wyre Forest, Kev @kev07713 and I failed to find either wood warbler or dipper, so today we decided to return after seeing that Miles Cluff @miles_cluff had reported seeing one there - birds now returning? Miles posted on X that he had “seen some very bold wood warblers in my time, but this one takes the cake - no fear whatsoever.”

On arrival, we decided not to head straight for our usual car park. Instead, we dropped down the slope to the bridge over Dowles Brook to see if we could finally connect with a dipper. Frustratingly, we’d never previously missed this species here, but this year they seem to have become much harder to see - not just for us, but for all the birders we’ve spoken to.

We pulled the car into a lay-by off the lane and settled ourselves on the edge of the bridge after confirming there wasn’t currently a bird showing. As we sat chatting and listening to the surrounding birdsong, we considered moving on several times but decided to wait a little longer. After almost half an hour, a bird suddenly appeared, flying low down the brook before passing directly over us and continuing upstream to the deeper section beyond the bridge - a dipper. The view was brief, but very satisfying.

With the dipper finally seen, we returned to the car and headed for the main car park to continue our search for a wood warbler. We wandered out through parts of the forest we don’t usually explore before looping back past the car park and onto tracks running through the woods parallel to the main route, all the while listening out for the distinctive call of a wood warbler.

Above we could hear the call of common redstart and from time to time we would be able to pick them out, usually perched high in the tree canopy. Anecdotally, quite a few birders seem to be reporting good numbers in traditional woodland areas, especially in Wales, here in the Wyre Forest, and parts of the New Forest. The warm, settled periods in April appear to have helped migrants move through quickly and establish territories early. That said, common redstart remains an amber-listed species in the UK, and long-term breeding trends are still mixed depending on region.

As we made our way along the tracks, we saw several pairs of roe deer. With the forest lush there is a lot of available food, but the deer are also more active and visible because does are heavily pregnant and bucks are establishing and defending territories. Roe bucks become increasingly territorial from spring onwards. They typically give birth from mid-May through June in the UK, with most fawns born in late May and early June - the timing is quite precise because roe deer have a delayed implantation process: mating takes place in summer (usually July–August), but the fertilised egg does not begin developing until winter. This allows births to coincide with peak spring vegetation and food availability.

We came across pairs of blackcaps, goldcrest, and then saw garden warblers chasing through the dense bushes off to our right but a distance. Garden warblers usually arrive from Africa in late April and are in full song through May and early June while establishing breeding territories. Unlike blackcaps, garden warblers tend to stay hidden in thicker vegetation, often in bramble patches, young woodland, willow scrub, or dense scrub near woodland edges. You often hear them long before you see them but by June, they often become much quieter and harder to locate.

Garden warblers are famously understated visually. Compared with something like a common redstart or wood warbler, they can look rather plain at first glance: mostly warm brown above and pale buff-grey below, with very few obvious markings. But many birders are fond of them because the song is so rich and beautiful compared with the bird’s rather modest appearance - much like nightingales, I think.

Still unable to locate our target bird we dropped down to one of the main tracks and made our way past the premises of "Peter the Bee and Friends". This is a dedicated nursery working to protect local pollinators by growing native, peat-free, insecticide-free wildflowers. The initiative helps reverse the decline of bees, moths, and beetles in the Wyre Forest area by encouraging wildlife gardening and supporting pollinator habitats. Their vision is that everyone should have a few wildflowers in their gardens even if it's just a balcony or a window box and believe that even small actions by many people will make a positive difference - how right they are.

As we passed the brick building, the call of a pied flycatcher caught our attention as it flitted around the lower branches of several large trees. At first, it stubbornly refused to perch in the open, remaining partially obscured by the branches, but eventually it landed in a much better position and we both managed to snap off a few photos before it disappeared into the trees beyond. We were also impressed by the number of bird and owl boxes mounted on the surrounding trees throughout this area.

We eventually rejoined the main path and headed back towards the gully where we had seen the tawny owl on our previous visit, still without any sign or sound of a wood warbler. As we reached the slope, we could hear and then see a common redstart perched in a tree just above the bench, while a few tree pipits were calling further beyond.

We decided to drop down towards the brook and listen along the bank there, but before we had gone very far the call of a lesser spotted woodpecker stopped us in our tracks. The call gave us a rough idea of where the bird was, but without seeing it we struggled once it fell silent again. We stood listening for several minutes, mainly to the tree pipits, while also watching two jays working their way along the slope down towards the brook - probably Kev’s favourite moment of the day.

Then came the call again. I looked up and managed to pick out the lesser spotted woodpecker on the branches of a dead tree, working its way around a branch and gradually moving into a better position for viewing. I pointed it out to Kev, but by the time he got onto the bird it dropped down behind a tree in front of us, completely obscuring the view and giving him just a fleeting sighting. We tried to relocate it, but despite our efforts we couldn’t find it again, although we heard it call.

This was the first time either of us had seen a lesser spotted woodpecker in the Wyre Forest, probably because we usually only visit once, or at most twice, during the period when the pied flycatchers, tree pipits, common redstarts, and wood warblers are present.

Along the river we didn't see anything new in the way of birds but did see several butterfly species including pearl-bordered fritillary, holly blue, and orange tips. Orange-tip butterflies seem to be restless and often seem unwilling to settle for more than a second or two, especially the males. In spring they appear to spend a huge amount of time patrolling along hedgerows, woodland edges, rides and damp meadows searching for females, which makes them appear constantly on the move. I think this was my first opportunity to take a photo of one this year.

Despite further searching, we were still unable to locate a wood warbler. We bumped into Mike @dogdoughty, who we regularly seem to encounter out birding, and he confirmed that he too had failed to find one. It certainly seems to be a poor year for them here. We slowly made our way back to the car and set off for home.

Kev was helping his brother with some work again on Monday, but Tuesday promised a much better forecast, although reports suggested that many of the birds we might have gone to see had already moved on. Instead, we decided to head across into Bedfordshire to look for turtle doves at a site we’ve visited over the last couple of years, following the disappearance of this species from RSPB Otmoor. We set off at a leisurely hour, though still before most people would have been sitting down to breakfast. It wasn’t too far to travel, and we would be on site before most people had even started work for the day.

We arrived, parked the car, and walked towards the spot where we’d enjoyed our best views on previous visits, listening as we approached for the distinctive call of a turtle dove - one of the most evocative sounds of late spring and summer, a soft, gentle purring.

We began scanning the hedgerows and surrounding trees and, as I followed a dove in the distance that was probably a collared dove, Kev suddenly spotted a bird dropping into the hedge nearby. Walking round carefully for a better angle, he quickly confirmed that it was indeed a turtle dove, and moments later it began calling briefly from the top of the hedge.

We positioned ourselves for a few photographs before stepping back to give the bird some space so we could simply stand and watch it. By now the area was becoming busier, with people returning after the school run, dog walkers appearing along the paths, and a few runners passing through. Eventually the turtle dove seemed to decide the activity had become a little too close for comfort and flew off strongly, disappearing into the distance and, we suspected, travelling quite some way from where we stood.

The turtle dove is now one of the UK’s most rapidly declining and threatened breeding birds. Once a familiar summer visitor, it has suffered a catastrophic decline over recent decades, including at our local site in Oxfordshire. Since the 1970s, the UK breeding population has fallen by more than 95%, and the species is now largely confined to parts of southern and eastern England, meaning that you increasingly must travel to specific sites if you want to connect with them.

We waited in the hope that the bird might return, or that we might encounter another, as we had heard that two had been seen at the site within the last week. We followed a narrow brook running between two hedgerows, hoping to pick up the birds along this stretch, but saw little other than woodpigeons until a little egret dropped into the hedge ahead.

We edged closer, but it appeared quite content to remain where it was, basking in the sun. Eventually it moved on, flying further down the brook before dropping into the water and reeds below.

We walked around to the far side of the hedge and onto a path running parallel with the brook, where we heard a cuckoo calling off to our left. Kev headed off to the right and disappeared into the distance, but before he returned, I’d managed a couple of views of the cuckoo - first as it shifted position in flight, and then perched on a spindly branch, its call giving it away.

Although slightly distant and seen against the sky, it was probably my longest view of the year, and perhaps only surpassed by the excellent flyover sighting at Pig Bush in Hampshire.

We returned to our original position and waited a while longer, kept entertained by a showy whitethroat, a cuckoo, and a calling Cetti’s warbler. In the end, we decided we might be in for a long wait; we’d heard that some birders had spent up to three hours there without a sighting and left empty-handed recently. With that in mind, and hoping to make other plans for the day, we decided to move on.

We checked BirdGuides and found nothing of note locally, so decided to head over to Rutland Water in the hope of seeing some ospreys. We often visit Eyebrook Reservoir to watch them fishing, but it is still early in the season, and the males are not yet under pressure to provide food for chicks, so visits tend to be more irregular at this time of year.

We drove to the Lyndon Visitor Centre, where we were given an update on the ospreys, along with news that a white stork had been moving between Manton Bay and the North Arm. It had apparently been on site for 12 days, though we hadn’t seen any previous mention of it. We then set out along the trail between the centre and Waderscrape hide. The first hide, Deep Water, produced little activity on the water, but at Tufted Duck Hide we found around eight people already in position.

We were told the white stork was on the opposite bank, though mostly obscured by reeds and long grass. We managed brief views of it and waited in case it showed more clearly. The bird had been seen well at times and was noted to carry a blue darvic ring; it is believed to have come from from one of the reintroduction projects in the UK. Eventually the bird walked out from the reeds, but at over 500m there was only ever going to be a record shot.

Just as the stork was walking along the shoreline, a female mandarin duck appeared in front of the hide with what we think was close to ten chicks hurrying around her. It caught us slightly off guard and we largely missed the chance to photograph the young birds, though we did get more prolonged views of the adult.

Mandarin duck is now a well-established breeding species in the UK, having originally been introduced from East Asia. Rutland Water is in fact one of the more reliable places in the country to encounter breeding birds, even if the species still looks rather exotic in appearance.

The downy chicks of mandarin duck look quite similar to those of mallard at a glance: small, mottled brown, and well adapted for camouflage along water margins. That general “cryptic brown fluff” pattern is common across many dabbling duck species. I’ve read that mandarin ducklings can sometimes show a slightly cleaner, more contrasting facial pattern than the more uniformly streaked mallard chicks and may appear a little darker and more sharply patterned overall, though this is quite variable. Without the female shepherding them around, they could very easily be overlooked.

We then made our way to Waderscrape Hide, which was much busier and offered wider windows looking across the bay. The resident female, known as Maya, has nested at Manton Bay since 2009 and is the most successful breeding female on the Rutland Water Nature Reserve. The resident male, known as 33 (after his leg ring identity), hatched at a nearby Rutland nest in 2011 and became Maya’s permanent partner in 2015.

As we entered the hide, two volunteers came over and pointed out the nest and the male’s perch. We set up our scopes and enjoyed good views of both birds. The male remained perched throughout our visit but rather distant and could well be a bird we might also encounter at Eyebrook Reservoir. While it’s always good to see them at all, it is far more rewarding to watch them in flight and fishing, so hopefully we might connect with one more closely later in the year.

I had an appointment at teatime, so we eventually packed up and headed home to give me time for a shower and dinner before heading out again. Hopefully it won’t be too long before we’re out again.

Year list: 250.

Poole Park, and around :: 07 March 2026

A long-staying Forster’s tern has become something of a local celebrity along the Dorset coast in recent years. First discovered in Poole Harbour in April 2023, the bird caused a small twitch at the time as one of only a handful of records for Britain. What makes it even more remarkable is that the same individual has now returned each spring, with sightings again in 2024, 2025, and 2026, making this its fourth consecutive year back in Dorset.

It is reportedly believed to spend the winter in Brittany, France, the tern appears to have adopted a loose circuit between western Europe and the UK, occasionally wandering as far as Ireland before returning to its favoured haunts around Poole Harbour. Normally a North American breeder, Forster’s tern is a rare vagrant to Britain, so having one being faithful to this site is quite exceptional.

After its discovery in spring 2023, the Forster’s tern gradually became more predictable around Poole Harbour as the summer progressed. Although initially elusive, the bird eventually settled into a loose routine and was most frequently seen at several well-watched sites around the harbour:

• Shipstal Point - by far the most reliable spot, with the tern often working offshore or roosting on posts and buoys.
• Brownsea Lagoon - regularly used as a feeding and roosting area within the harbour.
• Lytchett Bay / Lytchett Fields - where the bird was seen intermittently, particularly during early stages of its stay.
• Marker buoys and posts around the harbour channels, where it frequently perched between feeding flights.

By late summer and autumn the tern was most consistently encountered off Shipstal Point (Kev and I visited in August 2023 - report here), often associating loosely with feeding flocks of other terns.

With its return this year, the bird has been seen and photographed in Poole Park, mainly around the main boating lake where it tends to move between a few favoured spots. Enticingly, it has been photographed perched on the short posts near the enclosed reedy area on the eastern edge of the lake. After discussing it with Kev @kev07713, we decided this would be a good opportunity to try for the bird while it was showing so reliably in one area, so we set off for Poole at around 5.30am, stopping for breakfast along the way.

We arrived at Poole Park only to discover that access to the park was restricted from 7.45–10.00am on Saturdays due to the weekly Poole Parkrun, which takes place around the boating lake. Pulling up briefly, we scanned across the water and could see a few birders already gathered on the far side. With no easy way in from where we were, we returned to the car and began plotting an alternative route to reach one of the other gates further around the park.

After a bit of rerouting we eventually found some roadside parking, paid the meter and started the walk back towards where the small group of birders were standing. From a distance there was little sign of any coordinated scanning or cameras pointing in one direction, suggesting the bird probably wasn’t present ... at least not yet.

We joined the small group of assembled birders, around ten in total, and almost immediately someone pointed out the Forster’s tern flying in from over the lake. Another birder turned to us and remarked that our timing couldn’t have been better, as this was the first sighting of the day, with some people having already waited two hours.

Later, one of the birders who had travelled down from Lowestoft mentioned that he had encountered the bird earlier out in Parkstone Bay. It had suddenly appeared in front of him, plunged straight into the water, and then flew directly over his head. A passing dog walker had then pointed him in the direction of the spot where we were now standing.

The bird soon settled on a line of posts, though initially hidden behind the reeds lining the edge of the pool, alongside several black-headed gull and a couple of common gulls. A few of the birders moved off to the left, walking out onto the end of a concrete structure so they could look back along the row of posts where the tern was perched.

Across the water we could see large numbers of people gathering for the parkrun and soon they were off and running around the park and the boating lake; this parkrun regularly hosts 800 to over 1,000 runners and is one of the larger events in the UK.

Before long, the Forster’s tern flew out and landed on a post beyond the reeds. Its arrival set off a small chain reaction among the gulls, each black-headed gull shuffling forward to the next perch in turn, creating a domino-like effect along the line of posts until the movement finally stopped at an empty one. By moving to the right, we were able to get a relatively clear view between the posts and settled beside a couple of birders. One of them turned out to be Scott Usher @SStanpit, whose posts and photos I had seen on social media before.

In March, the Forster’s tern is in non-breeding plumage, with the black cap reduced to a small patch of grey on the crown but with distinct black feathers around the eyes, giving it a subtle masked appearance. The upperparts remain soft grey, the underparts white, and the slender bill is darker than in summer.

Its flight is light and agile, often hovering briefly over the water before plunging to snatch small fish, making it a graceful yet understated visitor compared with the striking plumage it shows in summer. As we continued watching, the bird eventually took flight, circling the pool before heading out over the lake and then departing with strong, purposeful wingbeats.

Only fifteen to twenty minutes later, the Forster’s tern returned, initially landing again on the far side of the reeds before moving to the same perch where we had observed it earlier.

Two sandwich terns dropped onto the posts; one perched out in the clear and not far from where the Forster's tern had been - another new species for the year. Sandwich tern typically return to Britain in March and April each year, arriving at their breeding colonies along the coast, with most of the first arrivals seen in southern and eastern England. This was a week or two earlier than I expected to see any so was a welcome surprise. Colonies are soon active, from April through July, with chicks appearing by late May or June.

Around Poole Harbour, sandwich terns nest in a few key colonies, usually on small islands and sheltered spits within the harbour. These are part of a network of coastal breeding sites in Dorset and include Brownsea Island, the largest and most reliable colony in the harbour, often mixed with common terns and occasionally Arctic terns.

I wandered over to chat with a birder I’d recognised from a few places earlier in the year and found him talking with a couple who looked as though they’d just finished the parkrun. It soon became clear that the young woman was actually the birder, and she’d been pointing out the tern to people as they ran around the lake - as well as mentioning a mandarin duck on the pool.

A mandarin duck ... wait a minute.

I asked where it was, thanked her, and headed back to Kev with the news, as we both still needed one for our year lists. After saying our goodbyes, we made our way to the pools behind, where we quickly found the mandarin among a small number of other ducks.

Mandarin ducks are now well-established in Britain, although they are not native to these shores. Originally from East Asia, particularly China, Japan and parts of Russia, they were introduced to the UK several centuries ago as ornamental birds for collections and estate lakes. Inevitably, some escaped captivity and gradually formed self-sustaining wild populations.

Over time the species adapted remarkably well to British conditions, and today mandarin ducks are widespread across much of England, especially in the south and Midlands. They favour quiet, tree-lined waters such as woodland pools, slow-flowing rivers and park lakes, where mature trees provide suitable nesting sites. They are largely resident, though often more noticeable in winter when birds gather on open water with males being at their most spectacular from autumn through spring, displaying their ornate plumage - complete with orange sail-like feathers. They are a useful species for the year list when one unexpectedly appears among more familiar wildfowl.

We noted that ten glossy ibis were being reported from the North Wall towards the bypass at Wareham and, having never seen this species in such numbers together, decided it was worth a visit. We soon pulled into the car park and made our way up to the higher ground to begin scanning - as we did Kev mentioned he'd been here before, possibly to see a Boneparte's gull.

Despite thorough searching with our scopes, we drew a blank. I climbed a little further to speak with a chap sitting on a bench scanning with binoculars, but he hadn’t seen the birds either and had already been waiting for over half an hour - then a family who mentioned that the birds sometime fed on the other side of the bypass. Undeterred, we continued to check every corner we could - across the marsh, over towards the bypass and anywhere that looked remotely promising - but there was still no sign of any ibis. We stopped and talked to a young couple coming the other way only to find it was our park runners from earlier.

Eventually we walked round and through the underpass to scan the opposite side, though the only additions to the day list were goldcrest and Egyptian goose. We knew we might regret leaving, but our options were either to wait in the hope the birds returned at a sensible time or to move on and try for something else on the way home. In the end we chose the latter; glossy ibis are now regular enough that we will see one closer to home, and it was really the unusual total of ten birds together that had drawn us here in the first place. Later there were reports of the birds returning - c'est la vie.

We’ve enjoyed several good birds at Acres Down in the past, but on this visit our main target was woodlark, which had already been reported there several times this year. Having seen them here before, we arrived hopeful, though the full car park meant leaving the car further back down the track before setting off across the site.

We walked slowly, stopping frequently to listen and scan with binoculars and scopes, but the heath felt unusually quiet. There was still movement to hold our attention: several stonechats fed busily, great tits moved through the trees and bushes, a Dartford warbler called from the gorse, and half a dozen meadow pipits flicked up intermittently. We were joined by a handful of other birders, most seemingly hoping for views of goshawks, but the conditions were against them with low cloud, mist and a cool breeze.

At least five ravens passed overhead, two of them engaging in an impressive tumbling display, folding their wings halfway and flipping forward in a loose somersault, rolling effortlessly through the air before catching themselves and climbing again. The performance continued with a series of twists and rolls - part acrobatics, part play - a behaviour typical of ravens in early spring, serving both as pair bonding and a form of territorial display. Someone mentioned seeing up to seven.

Despite our efforts we failed to find the target bird, though the walk itself was enjoyable and rewarding for what it was. Eventually it was time to head for home, with three additions to our year lists.

Monday arrived and as usual Charlotte headed off to play pickleball and then cards and I decided to go out myself and see if I could see the ferruginous duck at Ryton Pools Country Park near Coventry - local. Kev was unfortunately busy, so I decided that I'd still go, solo. I'd never been there, typically choosing Brandon Marsh to visit in that rough locality. I drew up in the car park, paid the parking fee and set off on a walk of just under a mile to Paget's Pool on the southern end of the site and near the Bubbenhall Woods and Meadow Nature Reserve.

Paget’s Pool is one of the quieter corners of Ryton Pools Country Park, tucked beside woodland and surrounded by a mosaic of wetland habitat that feels far more secluded than the park’s apparent popularity might suggest - there is a substantial Visitor's Centre. Reached along well-worn paths, the pool opens gradually through trees and reeds, revealing a pool of water edged with marginal vegetation and soft, marshy ground.

A bird hide overlooks the pool, offering a sheltered view across the water and the reed-fringed margins. It’s a good vantage point for watching waterbirds, although the two small islands with thin trees mean the view isn’t entirely uninterrupted. The day before, a redhead smew had been reported alongside a ferruginous duck, but just minutes before my arrival, someone had posted only the duck on BirdGuides - the smew, however, remained unreported.

I spent about fifteen minutes scanning from both the viewpoint and the hide without spotting anything unusual, seeing only swans, Canada geese, mallards, tufted ducks, little grebes, gadwall, coot, and moorhens. Then, at the very back edge, something caught my eye and dived before I could get on it, perhaps another little grebe. When it resurfaced, I realised it was the ferruginous duck. I watched it diving, feeding, and preening out of view from my camera. Finally, for a moment, it cruised from behind the trees, giving a perfect opportunity for a photograph.

Ferruginous duck remains an uncommon visitor in Warwickshire, but records have become increasingly regular in recent years, typically involving single birds lingering for weeks or even months. Nationally, the species winters mainly in southern Britain and often associates with pochard flocks, moving locally between wetlands, which perhaps explains why Warwickshire sightings shift between sites during a season. Napton Reservoir is a particularly well-known site among local birders, with a male ferruginous duck often showing well among other waterfowl during spring visits, and there’s even information suggesting breeding activity.

In inland counties like Warwickshire, ferruginous duck occupies one of birding’s greyer areas: genuine vagrants mix with birds of uncertain origin. The species is naturally occurring in Britain, breeding across eastern and central Europe and wintering further west into Europe, and wild birds regularly reach the UK, particularly in autumn and winter. A fair proportion are likely genuine wild wanderers, though absolute proof is rarely possible. Whatever their status, it’s always a delight to see one.

Year list: 189.

Ducklington & Staines Reservoir/Moor :: 14/15 February 2025

It was Valentine's Day and I had taken the day off, using a 'time-off-in-lieu' day after working over a recent weekend, planning to spend it with my wife. That morning, I saw that the long-staying drake Mandarin duck (my post from when I visited in November 2024) had been reported again but we had a plumber coming over to investigate a leak. Despite this Charlotte said I could go see the duck, its appearances had become somewhat intermittent and work usually kept me from going during the week. We agreed to stick to our plan of having lunch out and then going to see the duck together afterward. However, I was a bit concerned when Graham Lenton, who regularly reports on the bird, sent me a message: "Come before lunch, as it sometimes flies off for the day."

The Yurt Café at Nicholsons Garden Centre, located in North Aston, offers a different dining experience within a handcrafted yurt made from upcycled materials. The café is nestled amidst a 23-acre plant nursery on the edge of the Cotswolds and features a Michelin-recommended menu that changes frequently to reflect seasonal availability; the dishes are Mediterranean-influenced. You can take your meal inside the yurt or opt for one of the themed private huts available alongside.

After a lovely lunch, we arrived at the Village Hall and spotted the mandarin preening as we approached. It busily scurried around, seemingly protecting a female mandarin it had taken a shine to. Soon, a couple appeared on the higher side of the bank, and the ducks eagerly approaching them, likely expecting food, despite signs stating that feeding them was not allowed. Judging by their reaction, it seemed people often ignore this.

Having taken a few photographs and having shown them to Charlotte, I noticed that I hadn't put a card back into the camera - what a schoolboy error! 🥴 I collected another from my bag and rectified the situation, taking some more photos. I'll need to set the camera to clearly indicate that there is no card and avoid this situation reoccurring.

He almost continuously had his distinctive 'sail' feathers raised (the orange, upright plumes on his back) to make himself appear larger and more striking, chasing away rival male (mallards). I had a chat to Graham before we made for home.

Kev and I talked about our plans for Saturday, keeping the weather forecast in mind. It predicted persistent rain everywhere except Scotland, Cornwall, and the southeast of England. We settled on Staines Reservoir, hoping to see the black-necked grebes in good numbers, along with a Slavonian grebe and two great northern divers. There was no reason to think the previous day's sightings would change, especially considering the incoming weather front. At the southern end of the reservoir, our usual breakfast spot was just minutes from where we would park before climbing up onto the causeway.

We checked out the ducks on the water and spotted a single female goldeneye swimming away, but little else of note.

As we crossed the causeway, we met a couple of birders heading the other way. They mentioned having only seen a great northern diver and some black-necked grebes about halfway along the western edge of the northern water. When we reached the best vantage point, we searched the area they had indicated but found only little grebes. The great northern diver, meanwhile, was as far away as it could possibly be. Then, a smallish bird flitted in the corner of the northern section; on closer inspection, it turned out to be a common sandpiper, a year tick.

As we began our walk back across the causeway, I paused to take a record shot of the great northern diver, followed by a pair of red-breasted mergansers on the southern section, a rare sighting for this location. Meanwhile, Kev scanned the northern section with his scope and spotted the second great northern diver. Despite sharing the same body of water, the site is so vast that the two birds were roughly 650–700 meters apart.

We ran into one of the birders again on our way back, and he informed us that the Slavonian grebe had been spotted at the southern end of the reservoir, closer to where we had parked. Reaching the end of the low fencing, we scanned the opposite shore and located a group of at least eight black-necked grebes, with the Slavonian grebe among them. They were nearly 750 meters away! The birds dived frequently, feeding right, and once we took our eyes off them, they vanished completely; remarkable how easily they disappeared from view.

Later, we spotted the Slavonian grebe far off to our left, while the red-breasted mergansers moved away from the back and toward the centre of the water.

With all our target birds spotted - though too distant for decent photos - we decided to head back to the car and make our way to Staines Moor, where water pipits have been reported. These birds are regular winter visitors, typically seen from late autumn through early spring, favouring the site's alluvial flood meadows and wetter areas.

As we reached the car, we heard the unmistakable calls of ring-necked parakeets and soon spotted five perched on the rooftops and trees ahead. I moved closer and managed to snap a few photos just before they departed.

We hadn't explored this part of Staines Moor before and initially drove past the entrance, only to park up and return. After putting on our wellie boots, we crossed the railway line and made our way onto the moor, where Kev mentioned the birds had been pin-dropped. We spotted some pied wagtails flitting around, followed by a few meadow pipits. After a few minutes, we locked onto a single water pipit — tick! We hadn’t ventured far onto the moor and found our target bird at the very first wet pool.

Just then, another birder approached from the opposite direction and stopped ahead of us, likely spotting the same bird. A dog walker passed by, heading to the right of our bird, thankfully not getting too close. Annoyingly, the dog—off-lead decided to charge straight through the area, flushing the birds. Grr ... not even a raised hand in apology.

We continued and joined the other birder, agreeing there was definitely one water pipit. As we watched, we spotted another four, bringing the total to five. We watched them feeding until they were eventually flushed by another dog.

Before the other birder left, he shared that some dog-walkers had told him that they'd encountered a barn owl - he then proceeded to find it hundreds of meters away on the hedge line below the King George VI Reservoir - only viewable through a scope.

We discussed what to do next and decided to make our way further onto the moor to get a better feel for the place, coming across a handful of stonechats and chiffchaffs. We were glad to have taken our wellies.

We reached an area along the River Colne where a distant row of trees came into view, and we spotted a dark-phase buzzard perched among them. A male kestrel flew past before the buzzard took off and flew away to our left. As we began heading back, I turned to see a barn owl hunting in the trees behind us, possibly the same one we had seen earlier. We watched as it perched on a tree, waiting for it to take off. Eventually, it flew behind the treeline and out of sight. A female kestrel was also perched on a bush beside the track. Occasionally a few spots of rain would fall.

We spotted three birders / photographers walking across the other side of the river and watched as the barn owl appeared, flying along the far hedge line while hunting. After a while, it perched in a tree for a few minutes before heading back along the hedge line. We suspected they might have had some prior information as to where best to stand, as a couple of short-eared owls had been reported the day before.

We watched as they settled back down, at least until the owl started back along the hedge line - except on inspection we found it was a short-eared owl this time. It hunted again at distance from where we stood, eventually working up and down and landing on the top of a bare bush. Short-eared owls are regular winter visitors to Staines Moor and are known to frequent the moor's wetter areas, where they hunt for small mammals and birds. Though their numbers can vary from year to year, they are a fairly consistent presence during the colder months and are often spotted hunting during the day, especially in the late afternoon.

We walked along to a bridge crossing the river but didn’t head out to where the three birders were. The short-eared owl had moved further along the hedge, and we were soon joined by another birder. Almost immediately, he spotted another short-eared owl perched at the top of a bush behind us - what a result! After a couple of minutes, it took off, giving us a reasonably close fly-past before hunting over the area between us and some nearby bushes. Eventually, it retreated to the far hedge on the other side of the river.

Happy with our day's adventures we worked back, hoping to see the water pipits again but found the pool was devoid of life. We headed back to the car and home, finding that it had been wet much of the day – we’d made a good decision on our trip today.

Year list: 124.