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.

Eldernell, Eyebrook Reservoir & Draycote Water :: 18 January 2025

Kev had chosen to return to Cornwall after previously missing the booted eagle, but I had commitments on Saturday night and Sunday, making a late return on Saturday impossible. Instead, I decided to bird on my own and make a full day of it, visiting several sites to add a few species to my year list. As usual, I planned to start at the furthest location and gradually work my way home, ensuring a shorter final leg at the end of the day. My itinerary included Eldernell for owls -specifically tawny and long-eared - Eyebrook Reservoir for smew - and Draycote Water for the ferruginous duck.

After a quick breakfast stop, I arrived at Eldernell to find the cold accompanied by a lingering mist, far from ideal conditions for photography. I hoped the owls would cooperate and stay within close range. Unfortunately, I seemed to have missed the barn owl, as there was no sign of one on the wing, and I couldn’t spot any short- or long-eared owls in their usual roosting hedge. Rather than making another pass, I headed straight for the tree where a tawny owl often "suns" itself, offering excellent views as it roosts before its evening hunt.

scanned the water as flocks of whooper swans lifted off and flew overhead, making up for my recent miss at Slimbridge. They passed in groups of three to twelve, heading east. A flock of pink-footed geese also moved through before a raven appeared, landing in the distance to join another on the footpath along the raised bank. Among the ducks and wildfowl, nothing particularly noteworthy stood out.

I decided to walk back and check the hedge again for any owls. Along the way, I encountered a group of young lads accompanied by a couple of adults. They hadn’t seen any short- or long-eared owls, and I confirmed that I hadn’t either. They opted to head toward the tawny owl, while I continued working my way toward the car park and back, ultimately coming up empty-handed. Out on the marsh, a pair of common cranes flew through, though they remained at a distance.

I headed back once more, carefully scanning the hedge, taking my time to search through the branches and foliage. Before long, the lads returned and joined the effort - one of them had a thermal scope, so I decided to stay close as he picked out a few small tit species in the hedge. We formed the advanced guard, with the rest of the group following behind.

After about ten minutes, the young lad suddenly stopped, raised his binoculars, then his scope, and gestured to his friend. I paused and joined them just in time to hear him say that this was the first significant find he’d made with his scope. He pointed out where to look, and sure enough, there it was ... a long-eared owl. I had begun to wonder if I might need to make a detour to Deeping Lakes, but with this find, I could stick to my original plan.

Out in front of the car park, I spotted my first marsh harrier of the year, gliding over the pools and occasionally stalling, though it never made a move on any unsuspecting prey. Raptors were scarce, with only a lone kestrel perched in a tree. As I left the lads behind, I caught sight of half a dozen cranes touching down on the distant far bank, too far for photos and only really visible through the scope.

As I approached the car park, I came across a pair of stonechats, though only the female lingered long enough for a photo. They always seem to show well in this area. With other sites still to visit, I needed to keep moving, so I jumped into the car and set off for Eyebrook Reservoir.

arrival, I parked opposite the viewing area and scanned the water. Realistically, any smew were likely in the next bay, out of sight from this spot. As usual, a handful of red-legged partridges roamed the area, with one perched on a fallen tree, seemingly standing guard. As another approached, there was a noticeable hint of aggression from the bird holding the vantage point.

After spotting groups of pintails among the wigeon and teal, I moved back out and walked along the roadside to a gap in the hedge, which offered a clear view of the bay. Before long, I spotted a drake smew diving near the point, gradually working its way closer. Within minutes, another drake and a redhead suddenly appeared alongside it. I had no idea where they had been hiding, as I hadn't seen them among the other ducks; it's not as if a drake smew is particularly inconspicuous! Moments later, the entire group was spooked by an unseen threat and took to the air, with the smew following suit, heading left and disappearing down the reservoir. Some of the teal and wigeon circled back and settled again, but the smew remained out of sight.

I walked further down the road and eventually saw the three smew at distance before they disappeared again. There were now numbers of goldeneye and they were also a year tick, a few of the males displaying - the mating display is a fascinating and elaborate courtship ritual performed by drake goldeneyes to attract females, typically in late winter and early spring. The drake dramatically throws his head backward until it nearly touches his back, then snaps it forward while giving a nasal, high-pitched call.

I returned to the spot where I had watched the smew, only to find they hadn’t yet returned. Scanning the bay, I noticed some movement and quickly realized it was an otter - my second consecutive visit with a sighting. This time, however, there was no diving, just a swift, purposeful cruise across the bay before it disappeared from view.

I logged my sightings and returned to the car, setting off for Draycote Water. On arrival, I found the car park still quite full and after paying for a couple of hours of parking, I stopped to chat with a fellow birder who was packing up his gear into the boot of his car. He mentioned that he had checked round to the hide at Toft Bay but hadn’t seen the ferruginous duck; it was therefore likely somewhere beyond the sailing club. That saved me some time, and before long, I was joining another birder who was scanning the water with his scope. As we worked through the tufted ducks and coots, I picked up another year tick, a small group of goosanders.

In the far distance near the valve tower, we managed to spot the long-staying red-throated diver. As we shifted our focus back to the ducks closer to the bank, we finally located the ferruginous duck, diving only occasionally. To get a better view, we moved further along the bank. The light was fading, but there was still enough to capture a few photos.

As I made my way back to the car, I came across John Judge and Theo de Clermont setting up for the gull roost and decided to join them. A glaucous gull had been seen in recent days, and it was a great opportunity to learn. They picked out a distant yellow-legged gull, and we spotted the red-throated diver now working along the edge of a group of large gulls; mostly lesser black-backed, great black-backed, and a few herring gulls. Common gulls were plentiful, with black-headed gulls making up the majority.

I kept watching, but eventually, my parking limit ran out, and I had to head back to the car. Later, I found out that the glaucous gull had dropped in just 15 minutes after I left; though it must have been quite dark by then, it still would have been great to see.

Year list: 105.