Woolbeding, Earlswood, & Wyre Forest :: 21-23 May 2026

Last year, Kev @kev07713 and I enjoyed a visit to a relatively new public watchpoint in Sussex for honey buzzards – my report can be found here. For many years, breeding sites and watchpoints for this scarce raptor were kept under wraps, but the Sussex Ornithological Society has since publicised a small number of approved viewing locations to encourage responsible birdwatching. Woolbeding Common, near Midhurst, has become one of the most reliable public sites in Sussex for observing the species. The best time to visit is from late May through July, particularly on warm days when the birds take advantage of thermals and soar high above the woodland canopy.

This year we were joined by Kev's wife, Karen @karenheath62. On arrival, we found a small group of birders already in position, peering through their scopes and scanning the skies. We joined them and settled in for what would prove to be a patient vigil. The air was filled with the songs of woodlarks and tree pipits, while siskins, linnets and a great spotted woodpecker passed overhead. Before long, common buzzards and red kites began to appear, but despite careful scrutiny we were confident that none of them were the honey buzzards we had come to see.

Distinguishing a honey buzzard from a common buzzard can be difficult, particularly at long range, but a combination of shape, flight style, and plumage features will usually allow an identification.

Shape is often the most useful clue. Honey buzzards have a small, pigeon-like head that projects noticeably beyond the leading edge of the wings, giving them a distinctive cuckoo-like appearance. They also show a longer neck, a slimmer body and a longer tail, which can lend them an almost falcon-like profile in flight.

Their flight style differs from that of common buzzards. Honey buzzards are generally more graceful and buoyant, often gliding on flat wings that can appear slightly pushed forward. During display flights, they may perform characteristic wing-clapping above their back and don't hover.

The tail is one of the most reliable identification features. It is relatively long and typically shows a broad dark terminal band, together with one or two additional dark bands along its length. The wings usually display a dark trailing edge, and the spread primaries often reveal six clearly visible "fingers". The underwing can appear strikingly pale, creating a strong contrast with the darker flight feathers.

We turned as another birder arrived and immediately recognised a familiar face from Oxfordshire - Ewan Urquhart @Stormvogel99. After exchanging greetings, he settled onto the slope beside us and we resumed our skywatching. Before long, two more raptors appeared, though neither was our target species: first a sparrowhawk and then a hobby. The wait for a honey buzzard continued.

As the morning wore on, one of the other birders overheard our conversation and came across to introduce himself. It soon became apparent that we all followed one another on X, and our new acquaintance turned out to be Steve Wilson @stevewilson1706. After a long chat, we returned our attention to the skies and were finally rewarded when our first honey buzzard appeared high to our right. Through the scopes we watched it circle for a couple of minutes before it suddenly dropped away, gliding down the slope and disappearing from view.

As the day progressed, we began to see more raptors, including a couple of additional honey buzzards, although none provided views as good as our first bird. By now, the increasing heat haze was making photography more challenging, resulting in noticeably softer images.

However, we were fortunate to enjoy a couple of encounters with goshawks in front of our vantage point. Although the conditions were now far from ideal, the birds were just close enough for us to salvage some worthwhile photographs from the heat-distorted images.

Having brought our lunch with us, we decided to remain at Woolbeding for the rest of the day rather than search for birding opportunities elsewhere. From time to time we relaxed in our camping chairs, scanning the skies and enjoying the warm conditions.

We continued to watch in the hope that a honey buzzard might drift closer and provide better views, but it was not to be. Nevertheless, we were more than satisfied with the sightings we had enjoyed and were equally content to soak up the atmosphere of the site and the birds around us. Tree pipits regularly parachuted down from behind us to the trees below, while mistle thrushes commuted between their nesting areas and feeding grounds. It was one of those occasions where simply being out was reward enough.

Eventually, we packed up our gear and began the journey home, thoroughly satisfied with an excellent day's birding.

The following afternoon, while going about my usual business, I noticed an update reporting that a spotted sandpiper had been relocated at Earlswood Lakes following an earlier negative report. I contacted Kev to see if he fancied making the trip, but he was tied up for the afternoon and suggested we might try the following day instead. Not wanting to risk the bird disappearing overnight, I decided to head over on my own. With rare birds, you can never be certain how long they will stay.

I'd never visited Earlswood Lakes before and found the traffic in the area rather busy, but I reached the dedicated car park without too much delay. As I was unloading my camera and binoculars, a passing birder noticed my equipment and kindly confirmed that the bird was still present, favouring the gravel island on the far side of the lake from the car park.

Armed with this encouraging news, I set off along the track. Reaching the causeway, I soon located the spotted sandpiper on the edge of the dam wall, hopping among the rocks as it gradually moved away from me. Other visitors were using the same path and, as they passed by, the bird became increasingly wary and edged further along the shoreline. Eventually it flew to the bank around the corner, but not before I had managed to grab a photograph.

The spotted sandpiper is a scarce but annual visitor to Britain from North America. Although records can occur at any time of year, there is a noticeable spring peak during May and June, when overshooting migrants occasionally appear on both the coast and inland wetlands. As a result, a spotted sandpiper found in late May is not unusual and falls within the species' expected pattern of occurrence in Britain. A review of British records suggests that, between 1950 and 2021, there have been 231 records, with clear peaks in May–June and again in August–October. On average, Britain receives around five records per year.

I noticed another birder standing near the bank where the bird had landed and, as I approached, the spotted sandpiper suddenly flew out and returned to the gravel island that seemed to be its favoured location. We watched it there for a while, but at that distance the photographs were never going to be particularly useful, especially given the worsening heat haze and harsh afternoon light.

Before long, the bird took flight again and headed back towards the dam wall where I had first found it. Conscious that I had already used up much of the time I had available, I began making my way back, hoping the bird would remain settled and offer me one final opportunity for some better photographs.

A couple of other birders joined me as we retraced our steps. Fortunately, I soon relocated the bird tucked in close to the wall, where it appeared remarkably relaxed and rather sleepy. In fact, many of my photographs showed it with its eyes closed. After taking a few more shots, I decided to leave the bird in peace, as it seemed particularly prone to being flushed whenever people passed too closely.

Talking with Kev later, we decided to return to the Wyre Forest the following day after receiving reports from a friend’s blog of sightings of a wood warbler. On the way, we planned a short detour so Kev could see the spotted sandpiper, as it only required a minor diversion.

We arrived at the car park and made our way towards the water, but initially we were unable to locate the bird. However, by the time we reached the far side overlooking the island, I caught sight of the spotted sandpiper flying in and settling down onto the island.

We watched the bird for a while and enjoyed a chat with one of the local birders before our bird flew back to the dam wall, where I had seen it on a couple of occasions the previous day. As this was only intended to be a brief stop, we began making our way back towards the car, once again hoping that the bird would remain in the area long enough to allow some closer photographic opportunities.

The spotted sandpiper appeared far more settled than it had the day before, spending much of its time feeding along the water's edge. By positioning ourselves ahead of its path, we were able to let the bird walk past us without causing any disturbance, avoiding the risk of flushing it. With the softer early morning light and no heat haze to contend with, I felt that my photographs were an improvement on those from the previous day.

Time to head for the Wyre Forest.

After arriving at the car park, we set off along the main track towards an area where a friend's blog had reported wood warblers had recently been heard and subsequently seen. Along the way we encountered several male pied flycatchers, along with one or two females, all busily gathering food before returning to their nesting sites.

In the past, most of my photographs of this species had been of the striking black-and-white males, but on this occasion, I decided to focus my attention on the more subtly coloured female, hoping to capture a different perspective of this attractive woodland bird.

As we searched for the best point to leave the main track, we encountered a couple of roe deer and heard the unmistakable song of a male redstart, which was giving it large. After a short search, we located the bird perched high in a distant tree. Although it remained some way off, it was close enough for a record photograph before we continued on our way.

We climbed the slope and carefully worked our way around the most likely area, eventually picking up the call of a wood warbler a short distance back down the hillside and slightly behind us along the track. As we retraced our steps, the song became increasingly clear, and it wasn't long before Kev managed to pick the bird out in the canopy.

We repositioned ourselves to circle the singing bird and reached a section of the slope where it was often roughly at eye level, allowing for far better views through the leaves. From there we were able to settle in and simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of this restless woodland sprite, as it moved and sang high above us in the treetops.

There isn't any published national analysis yet showing that wood warblers have been reported in lower numbers this spring, so it's difficult to say with confidence that there are fewer birds this year. However, several birders have commented that they seem scarcer or more localised than expected in some traditional sites.

The species is on the UK Red List, with the breeding population estimated to have fallen by around 81% since the mid-1990s, and its breeding range has contracted significantly. Given the species' long-term decline in Britain, any encounter with a singing wood warbler remains a special experience and one not to be taken for granted.

We decided to give the bird some peace, as it had been calling almost continuously both before and during our visit, and we didn't want to contribute to any unnecessary expenditure of energy. With that in mind, we left it to its own devices and began making our way back along the track towards the car.

Along the way, we stopped to examine a curious larva crossing the path. At first, we weren't sure what it was, but after a little investigation we discovered that it was a glow-worm larva. With its flattened, segmented body and armoured appearance, it was an intriguing find and an unexpected wildlife bonus to add to our walk.

Unlike the familiar glowing adults, the larvae are elongated, segmented creatures with a somewhat armoured appearance, typically dark brown or black with pale markings along the body. At first glance they can resemble miniature woodlice or beetle larvae, but a closer look reveals their distinctive flattened shape and powerful jaws, which they use to prey on snails and slugs. Remarkably, the larvae are also capable of producing a faint greenish glow, a feature thought to deter potential predators. They spend up to two years in this stage before eventually pupating and emerging as adult glow-worms.

As we made our way back, we passed the sunny banks that are favoured by butterflies, particularly pearl-bordered fritillaries. A few were actively nectaring among the flowers, providing another opportunity for photographs. Although we had already photographed the species on our previous two visits, we couldn't resist taking a few more shots of these attractive butterflies in the warm sunshine.

Not far from there, we came across a chap who was waiting for the butterflies to settle on the ferns in the hope of getting some photographs. We stopped for a chat and, while talking, noticed a pair of common redstarts busily provisioning a nearby nest.

The birds were making frequent visits with food for their hungry young, giving us excellent views of their activity. It was a real pleasure to watch the pair at work, constantly on the move as they shuttled back and forth between feeding areas and the nest site.

Having returned to the car, we decided that the day was still young and that there was enough time to make a detour back into Oxfordshire to one of our regular sites for spotted flycatchers. On arrival, we bumped into a workman whom we had met on a couple of previous visits. He confirmed that the flycatchers were still present and that he had recently seen them perched in the surrounding trees and on the overhead wires. Almost on cue, we picked up a pair high in a nearby tree before they dropped down and disappeared.

We spent some time working the site and eventually located at least one pair actively using the area. They regularly perched in the trees, while the male occasionally chose the wires as a lookout point between feeding sorties. It was a particularly welcome sighting, as I had somehow managed not to seek out spotted flycatchers at all the previous year, making this an enjoyable reunion with a favourite summer visitor.

We located the female perched quietly in a tree, partially obscured by the foliage. She remained largely motionless while the male made repeated foraging sorties from nearby perches, sallying out to catch insects before returning to her. On several occasions we watched him fly directly to the female and pass food to her, a behaviour often associated with pair bonding and courtship, although males may continue feeding females during the early stages of nesting.

It was fascinating to watch this interaction unfold. The male appeared tireless, regularly departing in search of prey before returning a few moments later with another offering. Meanwhile, the female remained concealed within the cover of the tree, accepting the food before settling back onto her perch. The repeated exchanges provided a wonderful insight into the pair's breeding behaviour and suggested that nesting activity was likely underway.

Eventually we decided that we'd better head for home and prepare for our next outing.

Year list: 255.

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.