Hampshire day-out :: 20 January 2026

When unsure where to go, Kev and I usually find ourselves choosing between RSPB Frampton Marsh and the Hampshire & Isle of Wight Wildlife Trust’s Lymington & Keyhaven Marshes Nature Reserve. With rain forecast to clear from the southwest, we opted for our first visit to Lymington of 2026. It certainly won’t be our last, as we often return after the spring migration to catch up with little terns and a host of other species.

Keyhaven Marshes form part of an extensive coastal wetland and nature reserve stretching between the mouth of the Lymington River and the village of Keyhaven on Hampshire’s Solent coast. The landscape is a rich mosaic of saltmarsh, intertidal mudflats, lagoons, grazing marsh and shingle banks. At this time of year, the area supports large flocks of Brent geese, wigeon, teal, pintail, grey plover, dunlin, black-tailed godwit and a wide variety of other wildfowl and waders, many of which can be observed from the Normandy Lagoon.

Although access across the marshes themselves is restricted to avoid disturbing the birds, a network of sea wall paths and footpaths provides excellent views across the reserve. The sea wall linking Keyhaven and Lymington offers a flat, scenic walk, with sweeping views across the flats towards Hurst Spit and the Isle of Wight.

We arrived at our usual parking spot and made our way towards the Keyhaven Lagoon, with curlews calling overhead and Brent geese feeding in fields through flocks of curlews, Canada geese, teal, and black-tailed godwits. Climbing up onto the sea wall, we were met by a stiff wind; although steady at around 25 mph, the gusts were stronger still, making it feel far colder than the 8°C shown on the car’s display. Deciding against standing in the full force of it, we dropped down to the lower path for some shelter and scanned across the lagoon, soon focusing on the 19 spoonbills exhibiting their usual behaviour ... fast asleep.

At their feet were small groups of avocets, with both species being welcome year ticks. Recent bird records show that spoonbills are now regular visitors to the Lymington–Keyhaven Marshes, particularly during winter and migration periods, and are increasingly occurring in small flocks rather than as lone birds. Counts of up to c.19 spoonbills have been reported at Normandy Marsh, matching our observation.

Spoonbills are now a regular presence from late autumn through winter and into early spring, taking advantage of the shallow feeding habitats of the Normandy Marsh and Lagoon, as well as the adjacent lagoons. A couple of avocets had broken away from the main group and were feeding quietly in the shallows.

We stopped to chat with a local Hampshire birder, who shared details of the species he had encountered during his visit. He confirmed that activity out on the edge of the Solent was reduced, as the tide was close to its peak, pushing many birds back towards the lagoons. This was evident in the numbers of dunlin and ringed plovers gathered on the islands and along the water’s edge.

The conversation proved fortuitous, as we picked up some valuable local knowledge, including information on purple sandpipers and, more importantly, a potential roost site for hawfinches. Coincidentally, Kev and I had been discussing where we might catch up with this species, as our usual local flock appears to have moved on and has been absent for the past couple of winters.

We worked our way round to the southern edge and soon located one of the two reported spotted redshanks, perched at the water’s edge. Within a minute or two it dropped into the lagoon and began swimming across towards another feeding wader. At first, I assumed it was the second spotted redshank, but it soon became clear that the bird was a greenshank. As the redshank swam across, Kev commented that it would make a great photo - I was already on the case - before he remembered that he was carrying a camera too and joined in. Hilarious!

Spotted redshanks are a regular but generally scarce part of the winter and migration bird community here and they’re reliable enough that birders often look for them here in the colder months. In Britain, they are primarily a passage migrant in spring and autumn, with small numbers overwintering at key wetlands, estuaries and coastal marshes and are usually encountered singly or in small groups, rather than large flocks.

Out in the lagoon, increasing numbers of dunlin and ringed plovers gathered, mainly among the lapwings. A small group of ringed plovers in particular caught the eye as they formed a tight cluster beside a tile on a small, raised island. Adding to the wader numbers were oystercatchers, their numbers gradually building as time passed.

Kev had been on a trip down into Cornwall and back through Somerset at the weekend and had sharpened his gull identification, calling a Mediterranean gull as it passed behind us and out onto the Solent. These gulls are regularly present around here in winter, although they’re more often associated with spring and summer breeding gatherings - scarce but regular in winter, with records often in single‑figure counts at these coastal sites. In winter plumage, Mediterranean gulls lose the full black hood seen in summer but still show a distinctive darker mask behind the eye, pinkish legs and a slightly stouter bill than black‑headed gulls.

We continued along the path when, suddenly, a bird flicked from the gorse back into cover. From its colouring, it could only be one species, a Dartford warbler. While Dartford warblers are regularly recorded around the Nature Reserve, they aren’t core marsh birds like waders. Instead, they favour the scrubby, gorse‑rich higher ground and coastal scrub surrounding the reserve. Preferring gorse, bramble, and other scrubby vegetation rather than open saltmarsh, they are usually found on the landward side of the site, where scrub grows on higher ground or rough pasture. It was therefore a pleasant surprise to encounter one between the edge of the lagoon and the Solent. I waited patiently, and after a couple of relocations, it popped out long enough for me to snap a few photos.

We had just remarked that we would normally have seen some stonechats by this point when a pair suddenly appeared ahead along the path. They moved frequently between the ground and prominent perches, with the female eventually drifting further away while the male stayed closer, giving excellent views.

We had heard reports of Slavonian grebes along the stretch where Pennington Marsh meets the sea, near the jetty, so we made our way there. Scanning the area, we spotted the same species, as already recorded, in the lagoons on the landward side of the coastal sea wall, along with another Mediterranean gull and at least 50 golden plovers. There had been a report of a merlin perched on a post feeding on prey, but we never encountered it; however, we did locate a kestrel and a female‑type cream‑crowned marsh harrier. Reaching the sea wall proved challenging, as the wind was so strong that both Kev and I lost our hats, chasing them down the slope, and we were left worrying that the scopes might be blown over. After a few minutes of scanning, we found six red‑breasted mergansers, but there was nothing else to hold us, and no sign of the grebes.

We then relocated in an attempt to connect with purple sandpipers, but this quickly became a “twitching drive-by” as the wind continued to strengthen. We abandoned the idea and while sightings would have been welcome, it would have been no fun standing in that wind. After a brief discussion, we set off again, heading for the site where a hawfinch roost had been reported. Conveniently, it was on the way home and only about twenty minutes from where we were parked.

Hawfinches gather at communal roost sites, often perching in the ornamental conifers here where they can be observed by birders. Survey data shows that hundreds may be present at these roosts - for example, around 353 hawfinches across 35 roosts were recorded in early 2024. These birds are elusive and quiet year‑round, often perched high in the canopy and difficult to see during the breeding season. In winter, however, they become more visible in the leafless trees, with their numbers often bolstered by continental migrants arriving from northern Europe.

We parked and followed the path suggested by the local birder earlier. Along the way, we came across a couple of treecreepers and nuthatches and were soon joined by another local birder carrying binoculars and a camera - he knew the area well and could advise us on which spots to focus on. Our wait began, with marsh tits calling in the trees behind us. Kev spotted a mash tit in a nearby tree, but before I could get on it, it flew out of view - I’d try again later. I thought I glimpsed a hawfinch overhead, but it disappeared into the trees and I couldn’t relocate it. Eventually, I strolled further down the track to see if a different angle would give a better view, leaving Kev and the other birder watching the favoured trees.

After a couple of minutes, I heard a whistle - it was Kev letting me know that hawfinches had dropped into the favoured tree and I hurried back, making out four birds through the branches. They quickly moved to a tree on the right, and I followed, searching for a better line of sight. Kev later told me that he thinks we had nine hawfinches in total and has video showing five of them together in a single frame.

Eventually, the hawfinches had moved to an area to the right of where they had first appeared. With the trees still swaying in the wind, the birds were revealed only intermittently, teasing glimpses through the branches.

It was now time to add a marsh tit to my year list. We came across at least three, busy foraging around a picnic bench where some food had been left by visitors and in the same area, chaffinches, goldcrests, coal tits, and a single firecrest flitted about, adding to the lively scene.

We had found exactly what we’d come for and were delighted to have had good views of so many of these woodland sprites. Normally, this would have meant adding the firecrest to my year list, but remarkably, this was the third site in three weeks where I had encountered one. Satisfied with our sightings, we packed up and set out for home.

Year list: 127.

Acres Down :: 01 February 2025

I had spent the past week working abroad, which meant missing the previous Saturday’s birding trip. I returned on Friday, and when Kev asked if I was up for a day out on Saturday, I shared that I was keen. The weather wasn’t looking promising, but then again, it hadn’t been for a while. Over the past week, a lesser spotted woodpecker had been spotted at Acres Down, making it a tempting destination. Despite this species being something of a bogey bird for us at that site, we decided it was worth a try. We stopped for breakfast at our usual spot when visiting the south coast and continued on to arrive in the car park when some daylight would be assured - we didn't stop to look around and made straight to the favoured tree. The lesser spotted woodpecker is a notoriously elusive bird, and Acres Down is one of the more reliable locations in southern England to see one. However, sightings are often fleeting, and the bird's habit of staying high in the canopy makes it a challenge to spot. Early spring, especially February to April, is prime time for seeing them, as males drum to establish territory and attract mates.

When we arrived, three people were already in position and confirmed that the bird hadn’t been seen that morning. Undeterred, we settled in and waited, hoping for any sign. As time passed, our optimism began to wane - it seemed our luck for this bird at this site wasn’t about to change.

Bird activity was sparse, aside from an unusually high number of song thrushes. One had woven a nuthatch-like phrase into its song. The thrushes called persistently, foraging through the leaf litter, occasionally clashing over territory. When tensions flared, they burst into the air in a flurry of wings and feathers, their skirmishes ending as abruptly as they began.

A flock of 15–20 crossbills flew overhead, circled back, and settled in the canopy above. We moved to get a better view, but they didn’t stop - before I could take a photo, they were off again. About twenty minutes later, three more crossbills landed in the same spot, but once again, they left before I could even get them in focus.

We decided to follow the path, pausing to check for the tawny owl sometimes seen along this track, but had no luck. Scanning the treetops yielded only the usual species. Splitting up briefly, I explored some tracks where we'd previously encountered crossbills to try and get a photo but returned empty-handed.

Green woodpeckers called from the right, and we eventually spotted one as it flew up into a tree, then again as it joined another, the pair moving further along the treeline. It wouldn’t be our last sighting, as Kev made an incredible spot on our way back, picking out a distant bird perched on the back of a dead tree. As we reached the denser trees along the path, we spotted another marsh tit feeding through - it took me ages to get focus when the bird was in the clear for a record shot.

We stopped for 10-15 minutes to see whether we we'd be lucky and see the lesser-spotted woodpecker but now we were the only people there and there was nothing moving through. We decided to break away and see if we could add any other species to our year lists but checking out many of the spots we've encountered firecrests before, we found ourselves empty-handed. We did pull out a goldcrest but not the rarer cousin.

We dedicated some time to searching for firecrests but had little luck, making our way past the car park, up the slope, and along the valley’s ridge. Then, from within the trees, we caught the distinctive call. Following the sound, we carefully moved in, hoping for a view.

After a few minutes of searching, we finally spotted a pair of firecrest flitting through the holly on either side of the track — at last! They busily fed among the branches, putting on a display that made up for our earlier struggles.

As a woman on horseback trotted through the trees and along the track, we took it as our cue to move on and try our luck with woodlarks. It still felt a bit early in the year for them to be displaying over the scrub-covered slopes, but there was always the chance of a goshawk soaring above the treetops - it wouldn’t be the first time.

Kev spotted movement on the ground up the slope and, after scoping it, found a sizeable flock of meadow pipits. We carefully worked through them, hoping to pick out something different, but they repeatedly hopped along before vanishing into the scrub. After a while, we were confident there was nothing unusual among them and turned our attention back to the slope below. A buzzard drifted by at a great distance, making no attempt to resemble a goshawk, and nothing else stood out.

Eventually, we made our way back toward the car park. As we reached the rise out of the valley, two birds suddenly dropped over the brow and into the grass. A moment later, the reason became clear - some approaching walkers had flushed them, and they had sought cover. We watched as the walkers neared, and once again, the birds took flight. This time, we were ready and confirmed the ID; a pair of woodlarks. What luck!

Back at the car, we grabbed a coffee before heading down the road for one last attempt at spotting a nuthatch - this stretch of woodland was usually a reliable spot. Once again, we came up empty-handed, but we did encounter another firecrest. Unfortunately, this one was too mobile for me to get a decent photo.

With that, we called it a day, pulled sticks, and set off for home, stopping off for one last coffee along the way.

Year list: 112.

Acres Down :: 03 February 2024

We decided on a return trip to Acres Down, aiming to tick a few species we had missed on our previous visit. Reports of lesser spotted woodpecker had been sporadic since our last trip, and we hadn't yet tried to spot goshawk or woodlark.

On arrival, the car park was busy once again, but as we approached the favoured tree of the lesser spotted woodpecker, we noticed fewer birders compared to our previous visit. Perhaps some visitors had ventured on walks, some accompanied by their dogs.

While crossing the car park, we heard the calls of firecrests and once again managed to spot and track an individual in the holly across from us. I attempted to capture a photo, but the early morning light and the shade under the trees made it a challenge.

We waited for a while watching the tree and hearing occasional drumming to our right and behind but no signs of any woodpeckers passing through. I eventually saw a coal tit, having listened to them repeatedly on our last visitt and not seen them. Kev @kev07713 wandered off and watched a flock of finches and picked out a couple of bramblings which I thought I'd pick up when we went in that direction - they were gone when we looked later and I’d lost my chance.

No one had seen the woodpecker all morning and so we decided to take a chance and go for a walk and make use of our time here - it may never show. We'd heard some drumming from some distance behind and headed in that direction to look for likely locations. Unfortunately, none of them held our woodpecker although we did see marsh tits, treecreepers, a firecrest, and on the return a pair of goldcrests.

We stopped to check if any woodpeckers had been seen but none had so we went back towards the car and out onto the heath. On our last visit we had looked from here but ventured no further but now walked round to the point and overlooking heather clad slopes. Three birders were ahead of us, and we stopped near to them, listening to woodlarks.

Before long, our first woodlark appeared high in the distance behind us. Several more and one-by-one followed suit, taking flight and soaring into the sky above. Though often distant and silhouetted against the grey sky, their song betrayed their presence. The woodlark is a diminutive ground-nesting bird renowned for its melodious and intricate song and has a surprisingly powerful song despite its size. Their calls resonate across large distances, particularly in expansive habitats like grasslands, heathlands like that we were on, or open woodlands.

At this time of year you can also observe buzzards engaging in various displays and behaviours as they prepare for the breeding season. This can involve calling, chasing off other buzzards, or even engaging in aerial conflicts. We counted more than five buzzards out front and another couple to our left - while the five were mainly soaring, the two to our left were engaging in some territorial disagreement.

Like buzzards, goshawks exhibit territorial behaviour, especially during the breeding season. So, in February, they are often diligently defending their territories against intruders or competing goshawks. Goshawk males seeking mates stake out territories using aerial acrobatics and vocalizations, make it an opportune time to observe them. Luckily, we managed to spot an individual beyond a distant line of trees, though its presence was discernible only through Kev's scope.

We set off across the heath to see if we could find a Dartford warbler, a birder having reported seeing one around the gorse on the heath on our last visit. We searched back and forth but came up with nothing. While searching we saw ponies and two brought the Dr Doolittle 'push-me-pull-you' to mind.

Eventually we returned towards the car and stopped as we encountered another marsh tit and views of firecrest in better light.

Year list: 131

Acres Down :: 20 January 2024

On Friday night Kev @kev07713 and I made arrangements for Saturday but noted that there was little in the way of lifer opportunities and elected to have a day out with no specific target. We chose to visit Acres Down as we ‘don't do enough woods’ and given the prevailing weather, many inshore water bodies would likely be iced over - perhaps reducing the birds available.

We stepped out of the car having had to park on the road verge due to the number of cars already in the main car park. I'd seen a treecreeper just before arriving at the car park, but Kev hadn't managed to get on it - it was a year tick today for us both - perhaps we would look again later.

We were listening and scanning the hedges when another birder rocked up; we recognised him from visits to Normandy and Pennington Marshes - Kevin of Lymington (Kev II). We walked along the track together and soon a bird flew up from the ground and into a group of trees - against the sky it was largely a silhouette but with some exposure compensation and correction I could get a photo - a lovely lesser redpoll, but on its own.

We wandered further down the main track and came across a group of birders standing opposite a tree, favoured by a lesser spotted woodpecker - an individual had been reported at 10.50am the day before and this explained how busy the car park was. People out to get a view of a rather elusive species - I'd not seen one at all in 2023 despite making a few attempts at Middleton Lakes, while Kev had when he visited with his wife Karen. We watched and waited … but no dice - I picked out a brambling amongst the finches landing on the main tree and feeding down in the leaf litter.

Eventually we decided that waiting for a sighting of a single bird was not crucial today so moved on, catching up with Kev II. We'd seen some people stop further up the track and heard of a roosting tawny owl - like them we saw no sign. However, there was another finch flock and in this we managed to pick out two more bramblings; one female and a male (only Kev saw – “it’s on the left side of the tree, halfway up” was not the most helpful comment of the day - in dense woodland! - we've all done the same 😂).

We continued and could hear calls from a marsh tit - we found it through our bins high in the canopy; it did eventually drop down low enough for me to attempt a photo. Really nice to connect with one – and it wouldn't be the last of the day.

We met a couple of birders coming down the track and they mentioned that there had been successful in locating crossbills and that they were showing quite well. We had planned to go that way anyway and so we set off hopeful, meeting another birder who said much the same. Stopped and looking across the heathland we saw a couple of mistle thrush, fieldfare and several meadow pipits feeding on the ground. Behind us a crossbill called. I located it before it left - a female but no chance of a photo.

We searched along this stretch and then a track on our left. Only after 15 minutes or so I spotted a male crossbill landing on top of a distant tree - I alerted Kev I and Kev II. We watched as it perched high and distant, eventually leaving and flying away parallel to us - another three then flew over. Considering comments of 'loads' and 'showing well', we was robbed! (though happy to have had views).

We circled back around to where we’d waited for the lesser spotted woodpecker to find only a couple of people remaining - we hadn't missed anything. A passing firecrest pair didn't stop, but at least gave us a view; goldcrests were more considerate and stopped to feed. We walked back to the car park and Kev went in search of the treecreeper I'd spotted earlier.

I hung around the holly hoping for a better view of firecrest - and there one was, right on cue. It fed along the front of the holly, occasionally low and almost in the bracken. I had good views and called Kev back and he got to see the bird as it worked back in the opposite direction. Firecrests were first recorded breeding in Hampshire in 1962 but have since extended their breeding range northwards through southern, central and eastern England and into Wales. They are not as easy to encounter as their cousins (the goldcrest) but like goldcrests, they can often be found combing trees and bushes, especially conifers and holly, for small invertebrate prey.

We hovered around the area I'd seen the treecreeper and soon saw it fly back, and under a fallen tree. Within a few minutes Kev was on it, and we watched as it fed, eventually scaling the trunk of a nearby tree, and then departing across the road and behind a wall of holly. We climbed to look over the heathland beyond the car park for goshawk but no such luck - though Kev did spot another firecrest dancing around the base of some holly bushes and apparently feeding in the bracken.

We walked back down the track to see if we could spot a nuthatch - quite a few had called but none had showed. Again, we had calls but no view. We strolled back towards the car and who should we see but Adrian Sparrowhawk @sparra1959, Bryan Manston @BryanManston and Mark Crockford @markcrockford3 coming the other way. Hide as we might (😂) they spotted us, and we had a good chat - they'd been down to Pennington Marshes to see a few birds reported the previous day but from the target list they reeled off, they had only been able to locate the Slavonian grebe - still a nice bird and lots of other species seen no doubt.

Overhead we had a sparrowhawk, I picked out another firecrest, we had another brambling, Mark picked out another marsh tit, and at last a nuthatch high in the tree canopy. We'd heard that someone had seen goshawk earlier and while Ady, Bryan and Mark went off to try and find that (and some crossbills), Kev and I went to try for the lesser woodpecker once more. Although we didn't find the woodpecker, Kev did locate a hawfinch - my view was somewhat fleeting as it was turning to leave by the time I had my bins on it. I also had a jay over - noisy little beggar.

Other than searching for an elusive goshawk there was little else we could reasonably expect to see and we called it a day and headed for home. Wonder what next week will bring?