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.

Bedfordshire :: 10 May 2025

At this time each year, Kev @kev07713 and I make our annual pilgrimage to see turtle doves. Since they're no longer present at our local RSPB Otmoor, we've had to venture further afield, most often into Bedfordshire. Thankfully, the birds have been reliable there in recent years, and we were hopeful they'd returned. We’d even seen a recent photo we believed was taken at our usual spot, so we decided that today was the day to visit.

We arrived, and even before reaching our usual vantage point, we could hear a turtle dove calling. Promising. A birder with a camera was already in place, and we soon spotted the bird high in the tree canopy, calling steadily. He told us this was his fourth consecutive day here, and that the bird had spent about 90% of its time perched in that very spot.

I think our visit last year was a couple of weeks later, and we had the pleasure of seeing two birds then - perhaps more are still on their way this year. In 2023, we observed nest-building around the 10th of May; last year it was closer to the 22nd.

We waited, hoping the bird would shift position for a clearer view, but it stayed put. We tried approaching from the opposite side of the treeline and hedgerow, but the foliage was too dense to see through. Directly beneath the bird ran a footpath that saw a steady stream of runners, walkers, and dog owners, none of whom seemed to bother it in the slightest.

Occasionally, the bird would fly off, presumably to feed elsewhere, but after about 20 minutes, it would return to its favoured perch and resume singing. Its song is a mellow, rolling purr, repeated softly and steadily, like a contented cat or a gently bubbling kettle - unmistakable. I took a few photos from a distance before trying to capture some shots through the tree canopy from the footpath.

From the footpath I managed to locate a cuckoo that had been calling over on the edge of the nature reserve, perched high in a tree. I think several were working the area and there was frequent calling all along this stretch.

Our friends Nick @old_caley and Anne Truby arrived and joined us in watching the bird perched in its usual spot. We chatted for a while, especially during one of the bird’s absences. Eventually, it returned, but by then we were already thinking about our next move. A red-footed falcon had been reported not far from here, and we decided to head over to see if we could get better views than we had last week - we'd hear from Nick later that a second bird had eventually appeared and joined the first, though still showing at the same distance.

We eventually found somewhere to park and followed the path to the spot where the sighting had been marked on Birdguides. Before long, we were overlooking a body of water fringed with reeds. A couple of hobbies were hunting over the area, and we tracked them through the scope, hoping the red-footed falcon might appear nearby. A birder who had been watching from the opposite bank told us he'd seen the falcon earlier, right out in front of us, but it had since vanished, chased off by one of the hobbies.

We waited and were treated to sightings of up to four bitterns relocating across the reeds, but the rising heat created a significant haze, making even record shots nearly impossible. All around us, Cetti’s, reed, and sedge warblers called.

Eventually, we spotted the red-footed falcon, high up and distant. We watched as it dropped out of view, only to pick it up again as it flew far to our left and disappeared behind us. Apparently, it had been relocating to that area the day before, so we decided to head there too, though a wrong turn meant we had to take a bit of a detour.

After a short walk, we finally reached the spot. It wasn’t long before a few hobbies began cutting through the sky, swift and agile. Then, we picked her out: the female red-footed falcon, distinguishable by her warm rufous underparts and pale head. Once again, she was distant, often little more than a silhouette against the sky but we tracked her movements through the scope as she quartered the treeline. The hobbies, meanwhile, treated us to several close flybys, offering excellent views as they stooped and twisted in pursuit of insects.

Having had no real record photos last weekend I had a go at capturing something, however poor - can you see what it is yet. Well I think you can!

As of late May 2025, the UK has experienced a significant influx of red-footed falcons, with at least 50 individuals reported across Britain and Ireland. This marks one of the most substantial spring arrivals of this species in recent years. Notably, Carlton Marshes in Suffolk recorded up to seven individuals present simultaneously.

This influx is considered one of the largest on record, though it still falls short of the remarkable 1992 event, which saw an estimated 250 individuals across Britain. The current surge is likely influenced by persistent easterly winds during the spring migration period, facilitating the movement of these falcons from their breeding grounds in Eastern Europe to the UK.

Our attention was caught by a turtle dove calling softly behind us, but despite a quick search, we never managed to spot it before the bird fell silent.

Among the flurry of aerial activity, we spotted a few insects on the wing. I was especially pleased to get my first proper chance this year to photograph a bee-fly, its furry body and long proboscis hovering with precision as it fed on early wildflowers. Not long after, a four-spotted chaser dragonfly appeared, patrolling the edge of the sllope down to the water. It paused briefly on a stem, giving me a chance to admire its broad, dark wing spots and amber-tinted body, a classic early-season species that always signals summer isn’t far off.

Knowing that clearer views of the falcon weren’t going to happen anytime soon, we reluctantly began packing up our gear. The afternoon warmth had settled in, and the bird remained distant and elusive. We called it a day, retracing our steps along the path back to where we’d left the car. The quiet countryside was bathed in soft golden light as we walked, reflecting on the highlights of the day. Before heading home, we stopped for an ice cream, a perfect reward after hours spent in the field.

Year list: 199.

Grafham Water, Ouse Fen, & Summer Leys :: 03 May 2025

It was trickier than usual to settle on a birding location this time, with the lure of a spotted sandpiper in the mix. While it would be a lifer for me, Kev had already seen the individual that turned up at Upton Warren in June 2023. That sighting drew quite a bit of attention, given how rare the species is in the UK - an event I’ve tried hard to forget, having failed to visit myself. The only saving grace is that although they are rare, they are regular.

Fortunately, it is all about me - Kev agreed to humour me. We arrived and decided to make our way round to the north end of Grafham Water, parking on the grass verge as the car park by the Visitor Centre doesn't open until 9.30/10.00am. Grafham Water is England's third-largest reservoir and a designated Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). The western end of the reservoir is managed as a nature reserve by the Wildlife Trust for Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire, and Northamptonshire. The bird had been frequenting this area and been showing fantastically well.

I was especially keen as the bird was in breeding plumage where it has bold black spots on the underparts, the only sandpiper with this - out of breeding plumage it lacks the spots, and with plain underparts can resemble a common sandpiper - in fact the two are considered sister species.

They breed across North America, from Alaska and Canada to the northern U.S., migrating to winter in Central and South America. UK sightings often coincide with post-breeding dispersal or storm-driven drift across the Atlantic - usually there are 1–5 birds per year, though some years may have none - the estimated total UK records are circa 250–300.

We reached the concrete dam wall and met three birders coming the other way who confirmed the bird was still present. As we approached, we spotted it alongside three common sandpipers, which, as it turned out, wasn’t ideal. Earlier, the spotted sandpiper had been showing well, but now that it had joined the common sandpipers, it had become much more flighty, mirroring their skittish behaviour.

As we edged closer, the group took off, heading toward the valve tower, with the Spotted Sandpiper second in the formation. Kev decided to stay put, content to watch through his scope, while I made my way around to the valve tower for another attempt.

By the time I arrived, the bird had already been flushed further along the shoreline, and as I followed, birders inadvertently pushed it on again. Eventually, I caught up with the group and managed to get a decent view and a few photos before they took off once more. We relocated them right at the end of the concrete dam wall, almost exactly where Kev and I had originally planned to park but before long, they were gone again, heading back up the reservoir. I followed, and each time I approached, they flushed further along. I passed the valve tower and watched as the four amigos headed well out across the water. Kev later told me the spotted sandpiper had peeled away from the group and flown over to the grassy edge near Plummer Park Car Park on the southern shore.

I made my way back to Kev, who was waiting patiently on the far shore. While I’d been off chasing the bird, he’d picked up dunlin and a sanderling, plus had scoped some nice views of the spotted sandpiper. We’d already agreed that once this target was in the bag, we’d head over to RSPB Ouse Fen for the great reed warbler. It’s a cracking site that nearly always throws up something interesting, and the warbler itself is a real treat, especially when it's in full song.

The song of the great reed warbler is one of the loudest and most distinctive among European warblers, often described as "mechanical" or "machine-like"; a common description might be "KRAAK-kraak-kraak tik tik tik churrr churrr chack chack chack" - a mix of grating croaks, buzzes, clicks, and flute-like notes. The song, performed by males to defend territory and attract a mate, will sadly go unanswered, just as it has in recent years - this is a returning bird. Typically, the song is delivered from tall reeds, especially during the spring and early summer months.

We arrived at RSPB Ouse Fen and made our way round to where groups of people were gathered, apparently a pair of red-footed falcons were feeding above a distant wood. We saw four bitterns wheeling in the sky to the left of the woods and I took a record shot. It wouldn't be the last bittern we saw but all would be quite distant.

We spent time watching the red-footed falcons feeding with a handful of hobbies. Unfortunately, the red-foots were always too distant for a photo but we had some good views through the scopes, particularly of the female.

We reluctantly pulled ourselves away and set off in search of the warbler, hearing its song well before we caught sight of it. At first, it was visible but mostly hidden behind the dense reeds. Before long, though, gusts of wind parted the stems just enough to give us a partial but satisfying view of the bird.

We were debating our next move when news came through that two wood sandpipers had been reported at Wildlife BCN Summer Leys, almost directly on our route home. Wood sandpipers are scarce but regular passage migrants in the UK, with a few hundred individuals typically recorded each year. These elegant, medium-sized waders breed in northern Europe and Asia, using the UK as a stopover during their spring and autumn migrations.

It felt like the perfect opportunity to add one to our year lists, so we headed there. On arrival, a birder mentioned that one of the birds had seemingly flown off earlier, and the other hadn’t been seen for about an hour - not exactly encouraging.

We made our way to the Pioneer Hide overlooking the scrape, and before long, we had a wood sandpiper in view. Hoping for a closer look, we moved to the Paul Britten (Double Decker) Hide and relocated the bird.

At first, it was picking its way through short reeds, partially obscured, but eventually it stepped out into the open long enough for us to grab a few record shots.

There were large numbers of redshanks around, including a male that was displaying to a female - quite a racket! A few little ringed plovers darted around the scrape and three yellow wagtails dropped in.

We had heard the call of a cuckoo for much of the time we were there and eventually we picked it out, perched high in a distant tree. Not long after we were treated to swifts and hobbies darting across the scrape in search of flies and dragonflies - most entertaining.

After we'd had our fill, we followed the track around to see if we could get a better view of the terns fishing at the far end of the main water body. We were quietly hoping for a late Arctic or perhaps a black tern, but all the birds on show appeared to be commons.

Glancing back from near the feeding station, we noticed a commotion - plenty of Redshanks dashing about, and a couple of little ringed plovers tucked in among them. Then, out of nowhere, a handful of birds dropped in, and to our surprise, we realised there were now three wood sandpipers foraging together.

We had a look on Mary's Lake but found the same birds present. We made our way back to the car and home - there seem to be quite a few red-footed falcons in the country - maybe we will catch up with another and get better views?

Year list: 198.