Into Somerset and South Gloucestershire :: 31 January 2026

Kev @kev07713 and I were weighing up our options for Saturday when we decided on another trip down into Somerset, hoping to finally catch up with the Kentish plover we’d recently missed. There were two clear bonuses to the plan: it would give us the chance to meet up with Karen @hobbylovinglife and Dean @worlebirder, who were also thinking of heading there first thing, and there were several other quality birds in the area that would make the journey worthwhile.

The Kentish plover currently frequenting Burnham-on-Sea has become one of the most remarkable coastal birds in Britain in recent years. Now a scarce and often fleeting visitor to the UK, this individual has defied expectations by returning to the same stretch of Somerset coast winter after winter.

Once a breeding species in southern England, the Kentish plover disappeared as a UK breeding species by the late 1970s, largely due to habitat loss and disturbance. Today it is classed as a rare migrant, with most records involving single birds that stay only briefly. Against that backdrop, the Burnham-on-Sea bird stands out as truly exceptional.

First recorded there in the winter of 2019–20, it settled among the regular wader flocks on the beach and adjacent mudflats, often associating with ringed plover. Rather than moving on, it remained for extended periods, allowing prolonged views and a chance to become familiar with its behaviour and changing plumage. Even more remarkably, it returned in subsequent winters, showing clear site fidelity to Burnham-on-Sea. The story gained wider significance when tracking work later confirmed its continental origins, linking this modest Somerset shoreline with breeding grounds in northern Europe.

We made an early start, arriving on the esplanade shortly after dawn to give ourselves the best possible chance. The conditions weren’t ideal - the tide was falling (high tide at 5.17am, low at 11.51am) and dog walkers were already on the beach - but we were keen to be in position early. We’d skipped breakfast, planning instead to meet Karen and Dean for food once we were done at Burnham.

I pulled up outside the café on the esplanade - Kev and I unloaded our gear. It quickly became apparent that this stretch of parking might incur charges, whereas just 50 metres down the road it was clearly signed as free between October and March, so I moved the car while Kev set up and began scanning the area where the Kentish plover had most recently been reported. By the time I returned he already had the bird, and I jumped onto his scope for a look, just in case. It was only just visible through binoculars, but soon I had it in my own scope and noticed a small group of ringed plovers off to the left, all alert and occasionally preening. There was still little light, but I took a few insurance shots.

Some time later Karen and Dean arrived, delayed by the need to drop Dean’s car and keys at the garage for repairs, and by a stop for breakfast en route. Once the café opened, Kev went in and emerged with sausage baps, which we ate while continuing to watch the bird and scan the beach and Stert Island. On the island a peregrine was devouring what must have been a recently caught bird, while off the point there were large numbers of shelduck and dozens of curlews. A flock of wigeon whirled in and settled on the water, and increasing numbers of grey plover appeared in the distance. The light gradually improved as the sun briefly broke through, although its low angle made it rather harsh on the bird.

Karen wandered off to see if she could get a better angle, and when she returned we discussed our next move. A red-necked grebe at Cheddar Reservoir seemed the obvious choice. Red-necked grebes are migratory waterbirds that breed on northern freshwater lakes and wetlands across much of northern Europe and Asia, moving south in winter. In the UK they are scarce winter visitors and passage migrants, most often recorded along sheltered coastlines between October and March, but they do occasionally turn up on large inland waters, particularly after periods of unsettled weather.

The subspecies most frequently encountered in Britain is the European form, Podiceps grisegena grisegena. Birds of this subspecies breed across northern and eastern Europe and into central Asia, migrating to wintering areas that include the north-west European seaboard. Another subspecies is Podiceps grisegena holbollii, which breeds in North America, Alaska and eastern Siberia and is exceptionally rare in Britain, with only a handful of confirmed records.

There has been some discussion surrounding the Cheddar bird, particularly regarding bill length in comparison with the typical European form, but identification of the American (Holbøll’s) subspecies would require biometric measurements or DNA evidence before it could be considered by the British Birds Rarities Committee (BBRC).

We followed Dean and Karen down to the car park at the end of the reservoir where the grebe had been reported earlier, then climbed up onto the perimeter path, immediately linking up with Dean who already had the bird in his scope. The light was good from this vantage point, but the grebe was at extreme range. I took a quick record shot before following Karen around to the edge, where we would be as close as we could get - Kev and Dean stayed put as they were taking video through their scopes.

The light flanks seem to suggest this bird may not be holboellii - they tend to be darker overall, particularly on the flanks that are often the same or a similar colour as on their back - within the grisegena subspecies, bill length varies normally between individuals and some birds simply sit at the longer-billed end of the distribution. Juveniles also often have proportionally slimmer, sometimes seemingly longer bills compared to head size, which can give a “long-beaked” impression even if absolute length isn’t greater. There is an interesting article on the species here.

The bird was closer now, but largely in silhouette with the brighter light behind it. The priority was to study it carefully through the scope while also trying to salvage the best photographs possible from the conditions. Gradually the grebe began to drift closer and hopes rose of improved views, with Kev, Dean and a few other birders now having joined us. Those hopes were quickly dashed when a paddleboarder passed through, pushing the birds away from the shoreline, and our grebe eventually resumed feeding at distance. As if to mirror the turn of events, rain (tears) began to fall. When it eased slightly, I picked up a black-necked grebe on the far side of the reservoir, which Kev also managed to locate. The red-crested pochards previously reported appeared to have departed, but we did see a pair of goosanders before they too moved on.

Dean and Karen decided to walk round to look for the black-necked grebes, but Kev and I didn’t feel the need for better views, having enjoyed excellent ones at Staines Reservoir recently. After saying our goodbyes, we jumped back in the car and headed for RSPB Ham Wall, where a pair of ring-necked ducks had been reported. Initially a single drake had been present from 19 November, with numbers increasing to two drakes by 13 December. The ducks were on a small pit east of Allotment Drove at Sharpham, and when we arrived to check the area, it dawned on us that this was the same spot where we had seen a Squacco heron back in October 2023. (blog post here).

Ring-necked ducks in the UK are rare but increasingly regular vagrants from North America, with multiple records each year. They’re considered a scarce migrant/scarce visitor, and while their status isn’t as unpredictable as it once was, they still attract interest when found because of their origins and relatively low numbers here - typically there are around 10 or more individuals recorded annually, though totals can be higher in some years. Although called “ring-necked”, the neck ring is subtle; the white bill rings are usually the most reliable field feature.

We checked the pit where the ducks had last been reported and bumped into another birder, a friend of Dean and Karen, who had apparently spotted us as we left Burnham-on-Sea. After a brief chat we split up to search in opposite directions: he headed back towards the original pit, reasoning that the birds often tuck themselves in among the reeds along the water’s edge, while we made for the larger body of water where the Squacco heron had been. Kev set up his scope and, as he raised it, the two drakes were already in view. He asked if I fancied another year tick and I took a look. The birds drifted closer together before swimming off towards the reed edge, where they began diving and feeding along the margins, the stems twitching as they worked their way through underwater and bubbles breaking the surface above them.

We could see siskins flitting in the trees overhead, marsh harriers drifting through, and caught a brief glimpse of a Cetti’s warbler before wandering down the track, where we encountered over 80 mute swans and a group of agitated long-tailed tits in a small tree. As Kev approached, he noted that a bird had dropped out and appeared to be a sparrowhawk, the likely cause of the tits’ alarm. Within a couple of minutes, Kev spotted it fanning its tail in a distant tree, presumably drying its feathers after the recent rain.

Before we packed up, a flock of geese flew through. While I was still watching the sparrowhawk, Kev looked up and spotted a white-fronted goose among them. I raised my camera and took a shot of the flock, counting around 60 birds, all Russian white-fronted geese.

It was time to start heading home, but on the way we made a detour to Oldbury Power Station, where my wife Charlotte and I had seen black redstarts at the end of October last year (report here). We made our way around to the compounds where I have seen these birds previously. After about five minutes, I spotted a female flick up into the sky before dropping from view. I continued scanning and soon saw it again at the base of some railings, only for it to disappear once more. Kev scanned the area but drew a blank, so I took over the scope to focus precisely where I had last seen it. Within a minute, it popped up, and I was able to share it with Kev.

We decided to move onto the track along the estuary wall, hoping for a better view into the compound. Despite a thorough search, we came up empty-handed. Kev returned towards the spot we had watched from earlier, and as he reached the corner to leave the track and climb the slope, he spotted the redstart on the ground between two trailers. He called me over, and I arrived in time to watch it hopping forward, still at a distance. Kev moved on, and as I waited, the bird hopped onto a traffic cone, perching there for a couple of minutes before being flushed by a stonechat and disappearing from view. I returned to join Kev, but we couldn’t relocate it.

It was definitely time to head home, so we returned to the car, stopping briefly in the orchard along the way. There, we spotted a couple of jays, two green woodpeckers, a great spotted woodpecker, fieldfares, redwings, a goldcrest, and a mix of tits and finches. Kev also heard some siskins, though we never managed to locate them.

Another great day out, and it was wonderful to catch up with Karen and Dean again.

Year list: 153.

Oldbury Power Station & WWT Slimbridge :: 25 October 2025

With Kev away on holiday, birding along the west and east coasts of Scotland before heading into Yorkshire, I had to decide on my own plan for the regular Saturday outing. I asked my wife, Charlotte, if she’d like to join me, and she agreed, giving up her regular Pickleball session since she’d already played nearly every day during her club’s holiday week. I started looking for somewhere not too far away, with decent facilities and the potential for a year tick or two. In the end, I settled on a trip to Oldbury-on-Severn and the power station in search of black redstarts, followed by a visit to WWT Slimbridge to try for the Temminck’s stint.

There’s often a black redstart at the power station around this time of year, but reports over the past few days have mentioned anywhere from four to seven birds, so the odds of finding a male seemed promising. I’d only been to the site once before,back in March 2023, when I went to see an Alpine swift (report here).

The power station is located on the south bank of the River Severn, near the village of Oldbury-on-Severn in South Gloucestershire. The station comprised two nuclear reactors of the Magnox type, each originally producing about 217MW capacity. The first of the reactors started generating back in 1967 - a good year - and when it shutdown in 2012 was the oldest operating nuclear power station in the world. Over its lifetime the station generated circa 137.5 TWh of electricity - enough to power one million homes for 20 years. The reactor buildings were enclosed in prestressed concrete pressure vessels, the first in the UK to employ this method. The site used water from the River Severn via intake/outfall structures connected by underground culverts to the turbine hall's condensing units for cooling.

The last of the station's fuel was removed in early 2016 meaning about 99% of the site's radioactive hazard had been removed. Site decommissioning is still underway with current work focussing on waste retrieval, processing, storing and dispatch. The site is scheduled to enter the "Care and Maintenance" phase in 2027 with final site clearance and demolition planned for wel into the 2090s or 2100s.

With sunrise at 6:51 a.m., there was no need for an early start - I wanted enough light for photography - so we planned to arrive around 9.00am. Pulling into the car park, we spotted another birder setting up his gear, also heading out in search of the birds. He’d been before, though he admitted he still hadn’t managed a great photo. The sky was overcast, which meant good shots might be tricky, but hope springs eternal. He set off ahead of us, though we soon caught up and followed him to the spot where the best photos had reportedly been taken. Even before reaching it, I spotted a female perched on top of a white corrugated building.

The black redstart is a rare breeder in the UK and is more regularly encountered as a passage migrant and winter visitor from continental Europe - France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Autumn passage typically spans from September to November, with a peak in October. Its preferred habitats include old buildings, industrial sites, quarries, churches and cathedrals, and cliff faces - basically places with bare or rocky ground.

The male is sooty-grey/dark overall, with a distinct bright orange.red tail, and often with a white-ish wing patch. Females and juveniles are a duller grey-brown overall but still with the orange-red tail - juvenile males often exhibiting the white wing patch.The wing patch on juvenile males is a great clue to their age and plumage stage, and changes quite a bit between late summer and their first spring. Freshly fledged there is no wing patch but juveniles undergo a partial moult before the autumn migration and crucially develops a pale or white wing patch. Females will lack ay wing patch and are more uniformly grey-brown.

There are thought to be typically 60-80 breeding pairs nationally with autumn migrants totalling several hundred to circa 1,000 individuals - total individuals recorded annually are therefore roughly 1,000-2,000 birds. They are highly localised with key areas are London and the Thames Estuary, Brisol and Severnside, Birmingham, and along the south coast.

I was able to locate various female type birds but always at distance and after a while of enjoying them through the scope we relocated down onto the coastal path, viewing one of the Severn Bridges in the distance. Although the light was still limited it was at least reasonably still. It took five minutes or so before we located a female but it was now closer and viewable through the fence. It then dropped down and into a dogwood shrub growing up a chain-link (wire-mesh) fence - this type of fence is common around industrial areas because it’s durable, affordable, and provides visibility while still creating a boundary.

We watched two females, a juvenile male and one male visit the fence around the dogwood and eventually observed them feeding on the dogwood berries - dogberries. Black redstarts are primarily insectivores, but their diet shifts seasonally to adapt to food availability. During the breeding season and warmer months, they focus on insects and other small invertebrates, which are rich in protein and essential for raising chicks.

In autumn and winter, insect numbers drop sharply, especially in northern or urban areas. To survive, black redstarts switch to fruits and berries, which provide sugars for energy and some essential nutrients. Dogwood berries, along with hawthorn, ivy, rowan, and other small fruits, are easy to find and digest, making them a convenient winter food source.

This seasonal flexibility is one reason black redstarts can survive in urban and semi-urban areas where insect availability may be unpredictable. They’ll often forage on berry-laden shrubs, supplementing their diet with whatever is available.

We enjoyed the views, and our earlier companion soon joined us, clearly noticing that we were getting better sightings than he had. Another birder appeared on the path as a kestrel flew around the cylindrical building structures, flushing pigeons from hidden perches. The kestrel made several passes, keeping the pigeons from settling, though they continued to circle the area. After a while, the kestrel seemed to give up its search and departed. It was evident that the peregrine, occasionally reported in the area, was not present today.

Charlotte had walked along the path and back and mentioned that she was beginning to feel cold, so we decided to pack up and head back to the car. On the way, we crossed paths with a birder coming the other direction, who confirmed spotting some female-type birds near our original vantage point. As we continued, we glimpsed a couple more ourselves, and a couple of stonechats.

We made our way to Slimbridge, which wasn’t far away, and on arrival we decided to postpone lunch until we had seen the Temminck’s stint that had already been reported that morning. We headed around to the Rushy Hide, only to find it full, with no spaces by the windows. Luckily, being tall, we were able to peer between others and try to catch sight of the bird. I was struck again by its size, particularly as it moved just behind a shelduck. Charlotte had a little trouble picking it out at first, with only directions and little sense of its scale, but she eventually spotted it, and we watched as it fed along a narrow muddy spit.

It is adapted for foraging in shallow mud and along the edges of freshwater wetlands. Its feeding behaviour is characterised by active probing and pecking. It mainly feeds on tiny invertebrates - insects, larvae, small crustaceans, and worms - which it picks from the surface of mud, sand, or shallow water.

Unlike some waders that use a rapid, continuous probing motion, Temminck’s stint often pause briefly between pecks, carefully inspecting the surface before striking. In winter or during migration stopovers, it will opportunistically consume tiny seeds or plant material, though invertebrates remain its main diet.

They breed across northern Europe and Siberia and winter in sub-Saharan Africa, South Asia, and parts of southern Europe. In recent decades, there are about 100 records per year, with around 70 of those in spring passage - the species is extremely variable year‑to‑year, partly because Britain lies on the edge of its migration route, which makes numbers highly dependent on weather and migration patterns. There was a reportedly low count in 2021 of 54 individuals and a record influx of at least 226 in 2004.

Scanning the rest of the water we could see that numbers of birds have not built to the level we would expect for the winter months. We did however see a couple of common snipe out in the open and three spotted redshanks. After just a few minutes the stint flew onto the near bank but significantly distant and perhaps midway between the Rushy hide and Peng Observatory. From there it relocated again but this time to the back of the pool. After a further ten minutes Charlotte decided this was the time for us to visit the Visitor Centre for lunch.

We had been listening to one of the volunteers describe bittern flights between the Zeiss and Van de Bovencamp hides, which seemed to heighten Charlotte’s eagerness to return to the reserve. There was also a reported sighting of a yellow-browed warbler in the bushes near the Kingfisher hide. We decided to head straight for the Van de Bovencamp hide, joining about half a dozen others scanning the grass, reeds, and pool beyond. On the way, we stopped to chat with some friends who had dropped by after playing golf at Celtic Manor over the past couple of days.

One of the birders mentioned seeing bitterns within the last 45 minutes, so we were hopeful that regular sightings meant we wouldn’t have to wait long. About 20 minutes later, a bittern took flight in front of us, heading toward the Zeiss hide and dropping into the reeds to the front left. I managed to fire off a couple of shots, though the bird was already passing before I could get the camera on it. We watched for signs of movement in the reeds, and noticed people in the Zeiss hide pointing their lenses, suggesting they might have had partial views.

Around 15 minutes later, a second bittern burst out from roughly the same area, this time closer. It caught the strong wind now blowing through the hide windows and sped off quickly, veering right and disappearing over the track behind us. I didn’t have time to get the camera on it, though I was the one who had spotted it first. Later, a birder dropped by and showed us a photo of the second bird flying straight toward him before turning and crossing the track.

We spoke with a few birders who had gone looking for the yellow-browed warbler but returned empty-handed; perhaps the bird had taken shelter from the now brisk wind. Deciding to wrap up the day, we headed back towards the Visitor Centre for a cup of tea before making our way home.

On the way, we bumped into Nick and Anne Truby, who had stopped by on their return from a birding holiday in Cornwall. Unfortunately, the trip hadn’t been as rewarding as they’d hoped, and both had been under the weather with colds - Anne was still feeling unwell. We chatted briefly before continuing on our way.

Year list: 244.

Grimsbury & Staines Reservoirs, Seaford :: 08/09 November 2024

Velvet scoters are large sea ducks typically found in marine environments but on November 8, two first-winter birds were reported at Grimsbury Reservoir in Oxfordshire - a notable inland sighting, as these birds are usually associated with coastal waters where they dive for molluscs and other invertebrates. Their specialised diet of marine life, such as mussels, makes their presence in inland waters even more remarkable.

This species usually form large, tight flocks at sea and are rarely seen inland; records are typically during the winter months, when the birds may venture away from their usual coastal habitat. It is not typical for them to stray far from the sea, though some birds, particularly young ones, have been known to explore freshwater environments before settling back in coastal zones.

Velvet Scoters have a bulky shape and large bill, with males displaying a distinctive white 'tear drop' mark behind the eye and a white patch on the wing, while females are generally dark brown with paler facial patches.

I had seen hundreds of them at Musselburgh over the summer while searching for the Stejneger's Scoter (report here), but the chance to see them up close was too good to pass up. I only had a half-hour break from work, but luckily, the spot was less than ten minutes away.

I parked and headed around the west side, assuming the view would be better from there - a strategy that works about 75% of the time. Sure enough, they were there, gathered in the northwest corner but gradually drifting toward the middle. The overcast sky wasn’t ideal for photos, and the light wasn’t on my side, but I couldn’t complain - I was fortunate they had stuck around.

I snapped a few quick shots before turning back to return to the office, passing Paul Wyeth on the way for a quick chat. The birds were starting to settle down to sleep, and I didn’t have time to wait for them to return to the water's edge.

A Lapland bunting had been found at Staines Reservoir in Surrey on November 5, 2024; this sighting was reported by David Hutchinson and featured on BirdGuides. Staines Reservoirs, located near Heathrow Airport, are known for regularly attracting various bird species, making it a popular spot - it wouldn't be the first time we'd been there this year.

Lapland Buntings are slightly larger than reed buntings, characterised by a well-marked head pattern, chestnut nape, and chestnut wing panel. They spend most of their time on the ground and it has been reported that the bird has been showing extremely well, allowing observers to approach within 5 meters. It has also been hopping even closer to under a metre.

The ring-necked parakeet, also known as the rose-ringed parakeet, is a medium-sized, bright green parrot with a distinctive red bill and a long, narrow tail. Males feature a black and pink neck ring, while females and juveniles lack this marking. Originally native to Africa and southern Asia, ring-necked parakeets have established a significant population in London. Their adaptability to urban environments and the availability of food sources have contributed to their proliferation. The British Trust for Ornithology (BTO) estimated approximately 12,000 breeding pairs in the UK where the population has experienced significant growth, with a 2,154% increase between 1995 and 2022 - and with numbers continuing to grow.

In Staines, located to the west of London, they are also observed in areas such as Staines Moor, where they are listed among the resident bird species. Their presence here reflects the species' expansion beyond central London into surrounding regions and while their vibrant appearance adds an exotic element to urban wildlife, ring-necked parakeets have raised ecological concerns. They compete with native bird species for nesting sites and food resources, potentially impacting local biodiversity.

We continued onto the causeway and saw two groups ahead, two lines about 20m apart. The Lapland bunting was between the two and feeding back and forth - this little stunner was putting on a great show, coming too close for photos at times.

We watched as it pushed up against our line and then the other further west along the causeway.

After enjoying fantastic views of the Lapland Bunting, we decided to head over to Staines Moor for the rest of the day. Wanting to give others a chance to see the bird and reduce any pressure on it, we passed on our positions and began our walk. As we left, we both checked BirdGuides for any nearby sightings. To our surprise, a report of a pied wheatear at Seaford popped up! Although it wasn’t exactly close - around 75 miles away on the coast near Beachy Head - the prospect of a lifer was too tempting. With plenty of daylight left, we exchanged a glance, shrugged, and hit the road.

Usually found in southeastern Europe and western Asia the pied wheatear is considered a rare vagrant in the UK, with most sightings occurring during late autumn, particularly in October and November. Records are sporadic, with occurrences noted in various coastal regions - typically they inhabit open, rocky terrains and are known for their distinctive tail movements. They fit right in on the Sussex cliffs.

We pulled into the car park along the esplanade and saw reports that the bitd had been lost about 45 minutes before, over the edge of the cliff. We stopped for a coffee and then joined a group heading for the base of the cliffs - a female black redstart perched on the railings to the jetty, then flew across to the white cliff, stopping to watch us approach.

Two birders dropped down onto the beach to work along and see if they could spot the bird there but came back empty handed.

We watched as two black redstarts darted across the square boulders and up the cliff face, while meadow pipits flitted about on the cliff tops. A robin frequently caught our attention as it foraged, momentarily raising hopes it might be the bird we were searching for. Climbing to the top of the first cliff face, we spotted the female black redstart, offering phenomenal insane views to a couple of photographers.

We worked further up the slope stopping regularly and scanning the cliff edge and back onto the golf course behind. The views were getting better and better. A pair of stonechats showed on the edge of the golf course, dropping onto the ground regularly. A few rock pipits could be found closest to the cliff edge.

We worked along the clifftops and stopped regularly to ensure we wouldn't miss the bird if still there. I got a WhatsApp update from our friend Adrian Sparrowhawk to say he'd arrived and that he and Bryan Manston were having lunch. After a mile we stopped and scanned ahead but we couldn't find our bird and neither could anyone else.

The pied wheatear is characterised by its distinctive black and white plumage, with males displaying a black face and throat contrasted by a white crown and rump. Our bird was said to be a female and generally browner but still exhibiting the species' characteristic tail pattern. A few birders had ventured along further but came back empty handed so we decided our luck wasn't in today. We had a hard-stop to be back in Banbury and so worked our way back to the car and stopped for a late lunch. Despite the weather and temperature, some were venturing into the water - absolute madness.

On the way home the bird was refound, presumably pushed back up onto the cliffs by the high tide (scheduled for 4pm). Damn. Kev would go back and ticked it on the Wednesday while I was in Sheffield working.

Year list: 244.