Crockham Hill & Staines Moor :: 14 January 2026

The weather had been wet in recent days, but with a red-flanked bluetail within reach having been found on 11 January, Kev @kev07713 and I were determined to try and visit - it would be a first for us both. Weather was only part of the equation - we also had diaries to juggle. All we could do was hope the bird would play ball and remain until Wednesday, and fortuitously the weather was forecast to improve and might work in our favour. Encouraging news came on Tuesday when our friends Bryan and Adrian reported that the bird was still present, showing for around 20 seconds at a time but between times was very elusive. Even so, photographs were hard to come by, and the rain certainly didn’t help.

The red-flanked bluetail is a small passerine that has long enjoyed near-mythical status among UK birders. Once regarded as an exceptional rarity, this Siberian breeder has become a regular autumn vagrant, particularly along Britain’s east coast. For much of the 20th century it was a once-in-a-generation bird, but that perception began to change from the 1990s as records increased steadily, especially in autumn. This rise culminated in 2017, when the species was removed from the British Birds Rarities Committee (BBRC) list. It is now recorded annually, though it remains far from common - there are also rare wintering records, showing the species can survive UK conditions when food is available.

Roughly robin-sized, the red-flanked bluetail is unmistakable when seen well. Adult males show rich blue upperparts and tail, contrasting with clean white underparts and bright orange-red flanks. Our bird, however, was more subtle: females and juveniles are brown above with a distinctive blue tail and rump, a pale eye-ring, and muted orange-red flanks. As reported by our friends, patience is rewarded with brief but striking views.

Even though it’s no longer classed as a rarity, the red-flanked bluetail remains a symbol of autumn birding magic - a reminder that birds from the far edge of Siberia can still turn up in a British hedge on the right day.

We set off in freezing conditions, the sky having cleared overnight, and I was a little late picking up Kev after spending a few minutes scraping ice from the car. Once on the road, though, traffic was kind and we made steady progress to Crockham Hill, on the edge of Kent. After parking up, we joined a couple of dozen birders scattered around the dell and gully. Most were positioned on the higher side of the dell above the gully, so we joined them - the bird, we were told, had been seen there shortly before our arrival. After about ten minutes I noticed that Kev had wandered off, though I assumed he would return as his scope was still standing behind the group. In the meantime, a firecrest and goldcrest worked through the area, along with several nuthatches, while blue tits repeatedly popped up to grab our attention.

After about 30 minutes there was a sudden stir on the lower side of the dell and a few people began heading down, suggesting the bird might have been seen. I grabbed the scope and moved quickly to close the distance, joining a small group scanning high in the trees. I picked up a bird silhouetted against the sky, but before I could stand the scope on the tripod it dropped down and disappeared from view. I couldn’t count that as a tick as although I’d seen the bird, I hadn’t had a view good enough to confirm the species. Kev, on the other side, was luckier: he managed to see the bird properly and even managed a couple of photos, providing confirmation of the sighting. I hoped that I/we'd get another opportunity.

We waited, searched and scanned for the next hour and a half - some of the time searching with people using thermal monoculars or others that had visited on previous days that shared where sightings had been most frequent. Still, we couldn't get another sighting. We could see some people beginning to drift away, perhaps having lost patience - this was very much a waiting game, and despite all eyes on the area, there was still no sign of the bird.

Kev and I edged up to the higher side of the dell, where one of the birders told us he had just seen the bird before it flew up and dropped back and away into the bushes. We waited, but it seemed to have already moved through. Kev then relocated down a nearby short track while I stayed between him and the birder who had seen it most recently, hoping it might still be in the area.

Moments later we heard a whistle, and another birder along a nearby track signalled that someone ahead was on the bird. I called to Kev and we followed quickly away from the dell and gully. We drew level with the birder, who explained that he’d just seen the bird on a small mound at the foot of a tree - the area was dense with thin trees. Seconds later it appeared, flicking up and through the branches - a lifer. We followed as it moved quickly to the right, edging further away from where we’d been and only pausing briefly along the way.

After a minute or two the bird settled on a branch and paused, eventually stopping to preen, crucially on the edge of a clearing and in full view, with nothing obstructing our line of sight. It stayed put long enough for all of us, about half a dozen in total, to get onto it and start taking photos. In hindsight, Kev wished he’d taken some video, but in the moment none of us realised it would show in one place for a couple of minutes.

Eventually, as all good things do, the bird dropped down and moved off, working back into denser cover once more. It was still often visible but mostly obscured by branches and twigs. We watched for another five minutes or so before retreating and making our way back to the car. As we passed other birders, many still waiting at the top of the dell, we let them know about the recent sighting.

Kev also posted the update on BirdGuides, noting that the bird was no longer in the same area repeatedly reported over previous days. Unfortunately, that information was ignored and the earlier details were simply cut and pasted again. Hopefully the bird will continue to show and be found if it moves further from its former regular haunt.

Back at the car, we discussed how to spend the rest of the afternoon - the day had moved on, and we were already nearing lunchtime. After visiting Staines Reservoir on Saturday, we’d continued on to Lemsford Springs to see jack snipe, rather than calling in at Staines Moor. This time, with Staines Moor almost on our route home, we decided to stop there in the hope of catching up with water pipits, pausing enroute for a quick bite of lunch.

We pulled into a parking spot and crossed the railway bridge, first hearing and then seeing ring-necked parakeets, then a great spotted woodpecker. Out on the moor, we noted that the water level was lower than on our visit last year, which surprised us given the recent rainfall. As a result, there were no pipits immediately in view on either side of the river.

We continued on and crossed another bridge, where we paused to listen. Almost immediately we heard a water pipit and scanned the field ahead, but without success. A few minutes later one pipit flew up, followed by another - both water pipits. We lost them into cover, but only a short while later one rose again, calling as it flew off. I managed to follow it and, fortuitously, it landed on the top of a bush, albeit at a considerable distance. The bird was easy enough to see through the scope, but I struggled with the camera; Kev had more luck with his phonescoping. Within a couple of minutes, it was up again and gone, dropping out of view once more. Meadow pipits flew through, and a couple of green woodpeckers perched on distant bushes.

We then heard the calls of a water pipit further down the river towards the railway tracks and noticed a couple of photographers stopping on the opposite bank. We edged closer and set up our scope to scan the pools beside the river bend where it turns to run parallel with the tracks. We soon picked up a couple of water pipits feeding in and along the water’s edge, sometimes close together and at other times well apart and appeared to be different individuals from the bird we’d watched earlier. A few meadow pipits worked the area too, while on the river we watched two little grebes running across the water and a grey wagtail foraging up and down.

We also noted buzzards, grey herons, a little egret, a sparrowhawk, and even ran into a couple of birders we sometimes meet out and about. Before leaving, we heard a Cetti’s Warbler moving through the reeds along the water’s edge, catching brief glimpses as it relocated every thirty seconds or so. We tried to follow it but lost it once it reached the trees, though not before enjoying our best views of it.

Later, as we broke away from watching the water pipits, we heard the warbler again and retraced our steps, repeating the same walk. Once more we had fleeting views as it worked its way back towards the trees, and on this occasion, we were lucky enough to see two birds burst from the reeds, fly the length of them, and drop back out of view. A decent photo wasn’t possible, but I managed a record shot - a year tick regardless.

With the light fading and no recent reports of owls on the moor, we packed up and headed for home, progress initially slow thanks to the time of day and traffic on the M25.

Year list: 113.

Derbyshire & Eyebrook Reservoir :: 30 November 2024

The willow tit, once a common woodland bird in the UK, has seen a dramatic decline in recent decades. This small, unobtrusive bird is now one of the fastest-declining species in the country, with its population having plummeted by over 90% since the 1970s. Its plight is largely attributed to habitat loss, ecological competition, and climate change. The isolation of suitable woodland patches prevents willow tits from dispersing and recolonising areas. Small, fragmented populations are more vulnerable to local extinction.

Despite efforts, reversing the willow tit’s decline is challenging due to the widespread and persistent nature of its threats and without substantial and sustained intervention, this species may continue to dwindle to critically low levels in the UK.

Seeing willow tits in the UK has become increasingly rare due to their significant decline, but with some effort, it's still possible to spot them in certain strongholds. Having not seen one for a few years Kev @kev07713 and I decided to make this our target species for our weekly birding trip.

Willow tits are most commonly seen in regions such as Yorkshire, Cheshire, and parts of Derbyshire with some of their key strongholds including: South Yorkshire’s Dearne Valley, Cheshire wetlands, and Sherwood Forest in Nottinghamshire.

Willow tits are present year-round, but winter and early spring are often the best times to see them, as foliage is less dense and their activity around feeders increases. They are easier to identify by their call than by sight; their song is a distinctive, wheezy "zee-zee-zee," and their calls include a nasal "chew-chew." Key identification features are a black cap and bib (like marsh tit, but with subtle differences), pale cheeks and a buff-coloured underbody - slightly duller plumage compared to marsh tits.

According to Richard Broughton (specialist on willow and marsh tits) they exhibit a nice white cheek pattern, with the hint of a 'golden collar', and obvious creamy margins on the wing. Dr. Richard Broughton has conducted extensive research on willow tits and their ecological challenges. His work has focused on understanding their habitat requirements and the factors contributing to their decline in the UK. He has authored a book titled The Marsh Tit and the Willow Tit, which consolidates decades of research and explores these birds' unique ecological roles, behaviour, and conservation needs.

Conservation efforts inspired by examples from Europe, such as the management of Poland's Białowieża Forest, show promise for habitat restoration. His research also emphasises the interconnectedness of forest ecosystems and the role willow tits play within them. Further study is available in publications and scientific journals, and Richard continues to contribute to bird conservation as the editor-in-chief of the Bird Study journal.

After stopping for breakfast along the way, we arrived at our destination and began preparing for a chance to spot and photograph the elusive willow tit. There were several promising locations nearby where they might appear, as well as the possibility of them being drawn to nearby feeders. Time slipped by without any sign of our target. Meanwhile, a pair of pheasants provided some entertainment, engaging in parallel walking and occasional displays of posturing. Though their loud crowing calls filled the air, there was no physical confrontation - just what seemed like practice for a future encounter.

We watched various tit species flitting through the trees and bushes, accompanied by chaffinches, greenfinches, a nuthatch, and a great spotted woodpecker. Many of these birds eventually visited the feeders, which were mostly nearly empty. At one point, Kev replenished one of the feeders with a "premium mix" he had brought along in his bag.

Patience proved to be essential, as a couple of hours passed without any sign of the willow tit. Then, at last, one appeared, landing briefly on a feeder. I quickly captured a few photos before it departed, stage right. The bird returned intermittently, offering only fleeting views on the feeder and frustratingly avoiding nearby branches. When it finally perched on a branch, it was partially obscured, making a clear shot impossible. Like many photographers, I preferred not to have my subject framed on a feeder, so after managing to capture a decent photo, I cheekily edited it to make the bird appear perched on a twig. A bit of creative license, perhaps, but it made for a much more natural-looking setting! - before and after ... you can't believe anything you see.

We repositioned to get a better angle on a particular tree and settled in to wait again. This time, we watched as the bird moved through the canopy, gradually descending to head height. Finally, it paused in the open just long enough for me to get it in focus. Success and this time, there was no need for any post-editing tricks!

Eventually our bird disappeared for an extended time, and we decided to make our way to Eyebrook Reservoir where a drake smew had been reported for a second day.

Smew are small diving ducks and are a winter visitor to the UK, primarily found in freshwater lakes and gravel pits, commonly seen in southern and eastern England and regularly on Rutland Water and Eyebrook Reservoir. The bird reported was a drake which sports a stunning black-and-white plumage with a panda-like face pattern.

We arrived at the viewing area where the bird had been reported earlier and started scanning. In front (and actually all around) red-legged partridge called; the call of the red-legged partridge is a distinctive and repetitive sound, often described as a loud, rhythmic "chuk-chuk-chuk" or "chur-chur-chur."

We spotted numbers of goldeneye and pintails; they are returning to many sites to overwinter, their populations steadily building. However, our search for the smew proved fruitless. A few other birders arrived, sharing that they too had been searching without success. Meanwhile, we spotted two very distant, black-necked grebes, previously reported in the area, as they swam toward the far end from the dam.

Small flocks of dunlin flew through with small numbers stopping to feed on the water's edge (up to 23 seen at once).

We walked and scanned along the water but couldn't find the bird - still we weren't the only ones. Barnacle and Egyptian geese joined the more common greylags and Canada geese. Try as we might we would dip.

The following days had reports of the smew again - it had gone into hiding while we were there - the Saturday curse. We will find one hopefully before the year ends.

Year list: 247.

Hampshire and Boddington Reservoir :: 19/20 October 2024

Rather unusually BirdGuides had been reporting on a (female) ruddy duck in Hampshire and with the weather locally to be raining until lunchtime, south and west seemed like a good plan. This would be a lifer for me.

The ruddy duck (Oxyura jamaicensis) is a small, stout diving duck native to North America. It was introduced to the UK in the 1940s when some escaped or were released from collections, and the species quickly established a breeding population. By the 1980s, the ruddy duck population in the UK had grown significantly, with several thousand birds present. However, the ruddy duck became a conservation concern in Europe, especially due to its hybridisation with the native white-headed duck (Oxyura leucocephala) in Spain. The white-headed duck is endangered, and the presence of ruddy ducks posed a serious threat to its survival, as hybridisation could lead to the genetic extinction.

In response to this conservation threat, the UK initiated a ruddy duck eradication program in 2005. The goal was to eliminate the ruddy duck population in Britain to protect the white-headed duck population in Europe. This programme involved culling efforts, particularly by shooting, and has been largely successful. By 2014, the ruddy duck population in the UK was reduced to a very small number, and sightings have become increasingly rare. Today, ruddy ducks are still occasionally seen in the UK, but their numbers remain very low due to ongoing management efforts.

We set off in the dark, encountering rain and a lot of standing water on the roads as we ventured south, to and along the A34. We stopped for breakfast as daylight appeared and the roads gradually cleared as we continued on.

Arriving at the recorded location, we joined a dozen or more people already watching our bird. As is often annoyingly the case, our bird was asleep and at distance - not very far but as it is relatively small it would make capturing decent photos less simple - record shots were now likely. We scanned around and noted large numbers of Egyptian geese and then three black-necked grebes; two off to our right and then another out in front and in the far distance.

There were lots of ducks and coot on the water - quite a density on offer. There were meant to be red-crested pochards here but try as we might we could locate any - I've managed to avoid seeing any all year and so stands out as an obvious omission to my year list.

We waited until the ruddy duck woke and for a few minutes it cruised left and right around the same spot but soon swam further back ... before going back to sleep. Eventually we saw it swim back right and a little closer, before it started diving. They are excellent divers, using this ability to forage for food. They typically dive underwater for 10 - 30 seconds, though may last longer in some cases. During dives, they propel themselves using their feet, searching for aquatic insects, crustaceans, and plant matter at the bottom of lakes or ponds.

A couple of days later and in response to seeing photos, it was then reported the bird had been reidentified and was likely an escaped female Maccoa Duck discovered on the 25th of February near Walthamstow and clearly found West Warwick so similar to its native southern Africa home that it had remained into March.

The Maccoa duck (Oxyura maccoa) is a species native to sub-Saharan Africa, primarily found in eastern and southern Africa. It is not native to the UK, and sightings of Maccoa ducks in the UK are extremely rare. Any appearances of this species in the UK would likely involve escaped individuals from wildfowl collections or zoos rather than natural migration. It is a stiff-tailed diving duck, very similar to the ruddy duck, and shares many of its traits, including a preference for freshwater lakes and marshes. However, it is not considered an invasive species in Europe like the ruddy duck because it does not naturally occur in the region and does not pose the same conservation threat, such as hybridisation with native species.

Updates on Twitter attracted some attention and Lee Evans posted "The escaped Maccoa Duck, initially seen in Sussex, recently relocated to Hampshire, where it continued to confuse observers". Also, on my post I asked if it might be possible to understand what specific feature stood out and was helpfully told "Of course - the bill is usually the giveaway. In ruddy ducks, the bill is 'scoop-shaped' with a relatively narrow base; in Maccoa ducks, the bill is thicker with a deeper, 'swollen' base. The same goes for white-headed ducks although they have even thicker, very 'swollen' bills". This is all great learning but quite confusing - talking with people whose opinions I respect greatly, this is all a bit odd - the bill looks sort of OK for Maccoa duck but with swelling halfway along the culmen - the plumage appears to be closer to ruddy. We live and learn I suppose.

We then spent the remainder of our day at Blashford Lakes around the woodland trails, north of the Education Centre and running parallel to Ellingham Drove. We walked along hearing and then seeing nuthatches and goldcrests. We stopped as a firecrest called in the bushes by the water; it wasn't long before we located it, and then another ten minutes or so before I managed to see it in the open for a photo. The photos were a record (and a bit rubbish to be honest) but as we turned to go the bird moved further down the path and into some light. Bingo. Then it was gone.

Firecrests are small, colourful songbirds that were relatively rare but increasing in the UK. Traditionally, it was a scarce breeder, primarily limited to southern England, particularly in areas with dense coniferous or mixed woodlands such as the New Forest. However, its population has been growing in recent decades. Firecrests are also expanding their range northwards and are increasingly observed in the UK during the winter, especially in milder areas such as the south and southeast. The dense coniferous and mixed woodlands of the New Forest provide ideal habitat for them during the colder months, where they forage for insects among the trees.

We pushed on and entered a clearing where we immediately we saw another pair of firecrests, then another, then a pair of goldcrests. They shot around and above a nuthatch called. To our right a treecreeper appeared and dropped down onto the base of a tree and started working up, as they do. Another then appeared and although more distant it was in brighter light.

We really must do more woodlands - we always say that when we see such plentiful sprites. We saw more goldcrests and firecrests as we retraced our steps, making for the Education Centre. We stopped in the car park and listened, hearing great-spotted woodpeckers, chaffinch, various tits, nuthatches and saw a red admiral butterfly working from the tree canopy down to some lavender flowers. A siskin flew over and called, although we didn't manage to lay eyes on it.

Right in front of us a nuthatch dropped in with a sunflower seed, presumably obtained from the feeders near the Education Centre.

We wandered along the path, enjoying sightings of coal tits and numerous nuthatches. Near Ivy South Hide, we stopped by a pool, drawn by the distinctive call of a Cetti’s warbler. Kev spotted one moving through the base of some reeds, while I noticed another across the water. A chiffchaff flitted among the bushes over the pool.

Continuing further, we heard the call of a kingfisher but couldn’t spot it. We entered the hide, where birdwatchers mentioned a kingfisher had perched on a stick earlier, though it had been a while. Undeterred, Kev stepped outside and wandered back along the track. Soon, he sent a WhatsApp message - he’d found a kingfisher perched on a fallen tree in the water. I joined him and watched as the bird stayed put. Kev then returned to the hide to let the others know it might not be perfect for a photo, but it offered a great view through a scope.

Kev and I snapped a few photos and videos before the bird flew off to the left and disappeared from sight. As some birders began to leave, I kept scanning the trees across the water and managed to spot the kingfisher perched on a lower branch. A lady birder who stayed behind was able to view it through Kev’s scope. It flew off again, but I managed to find it a bit farther along the tree line, a few tens feet from its last position.

Eventually, we continued along the boardwalk. Near the end, we spotted a large group of tits and a nuthatch, drawn by seeds scattered on the posts. A nuthatch briefly dropped onto the leaf-covered ground before darting off again. I waited for it to reappear, when Kev said something I never expected to hear: "The nuthatch has landed on the owl." It made sense, though still amusing - there was a wooden owl at the end of the boardwalk, and the nuthatch had perched right on it.

We reached Ellingham Lake and made our way back to the Education Centre without adding any other sightings of note. We did see quite a bit of fungus and were particularly taken with what I think is Mycena inclinata. Mycena inclinata, commonly called the clustered bonnet or oak-stump bonnet cap, is a species of mushroom. Its cap is reddish-brown and bell-shaped, growing up to 4.5cm in diameter; the margin of the cap has minute but distinct scallops. The thin stem, which can reach 9cm in height, is whitish to yellow-brown near the top, gradually becoming reddish-brown toward the base. At maturity, the base is often covered with a yellowish mycelium that can extend up to a third of the stem's length.

We made our way back to the car and stopped at a gate by the Tern hide and were somewhat surprised to only see blackbirds. However, we also saw the occasional wagtail and pipit over. We stayed chatting a bit longer than we'd set out for, but Kev spotted a raptor in the distance and pointed to what was likely a sparrowhawk. We watched as it rose back into view and realised it was in fact a goshawk. Goshawks are resident in the New Forest, and October is a great time to observe them as they often become more visible during autumn having been elusive during the breeding season. We watched as it flew along the far treeline and eventually out of view. A terrific end to our day's birding.

The next day, I found I had a couple of hours free to visit Boddington Reservoir near Byfield, Northamptonshire, where a long-staying red-crested pochard had been reported by John Friendship-Taylor @987jonty the day before. After confirming its location, I parked on the western side. Just a few hundred meters in, past several fishermen, I spotted the bird. I took some photos and was glad to add it to my year list. At one point, the pochard came out of the water to feed on seed bait near a fishing peg, rounding off a lovely weekend.

Year list: 241.