Blenheim :: 13 December 2025

With two of the family unwell and tucked up at home, I decided it wouldn’t be fair to share a car with Kev @kev07713 for several hours, potentially passing something on so close to Christmas - although I feel fine and show no signs of having picked anything up from them. I knew he was keen to go to Blashford Lakes, where a white-tailed eagle has been hanging about for the last couple of days, but it felt excessive to take two cars that distance. Instead, I proposed Blenheim for the crossbills and a drake ring-necked duck that had been present on the main lake for several days - although I'd visited recently, Kev hadn't and it promised to deliver good views of crossbills.

We agreed to meet and park, making our way in via the Footpath Entrance on the north side of Woodstock, probably the closest access point to where the crossbills can be found. Parking is restricted to four hours here, so we settled on an 8.30am meet. On the way there, the views were beautiful: the orange glow of the rising sun, blue skies, and mist lying low over the fields - a glorious start to the day. However, there were also patches of thick fog, and I hoped this wouldn’t scupper our visit, though with a good forecast I was confident the sun would burn through the blanket as the morning wore on.

The fog had cleared by the time we arrived and parked in Woodstock, but it gradually reappeared as we reached the footpath gate and climbed towards the plantation where the crossbills have been seen and fed. In places the fog thinned as the sun began to break through, with red kites and buzzards perched in and around the plantation. A fieldfare and mistle thrush called as they departed the plantation.

As we circled the plantation, we first heard and then saw at least 30 crossbills wheeling over the trees, seemingly arriving from the Combe Gate direction. Eventually they settled, though frustratingly towards the back of the plantation, so we continued round to the spot where I’d watched them about ten days earlier. We could hear them calling intermittently from the trees, but they didn’t show on this side. Ravens called from behind us, and one flew past before landing on the statue — the Column of Victory.

In the end we decided to check the far side and there found at least 20 crossbills feeding on the larches, carrying cones up to perch in trees adjacent to the plantation and work on them in the sun, occasionally pausing to preen. They fed like this for around 20 minutes before something spooked them, sending the flock circling out and dropping deeper into the trees, where they were eventually lost from view.

As we waited, a couple of ravens called and flew along the opposite hillside, where they were mobbed by other corvids, briefly coming into clear view before wheeling away and landing obscured behind another copse of trees. Overhead we had calls from siskins.

Eventually we decided to return to the other side of the trees to watch from there. At first there was no sign of the crossbills, but before long a small flock flew up, circled, and dropped back in, mostly out of view. As they settled, another birder arrived and, as he drew closer, I realised it was Michael Enticott - it had been a while. He caught the birds just as they went down.

We waited and chatted until the crossbills began to show again, albeit briefly, before flushing out once more and circling to our left. This time it was the larger flock, numbering around 40 birds, which eventually settled deeper in the larches. More conversation followed, including tales of Michael’s recent holiday in China, before we decided to try the other side of the plantation again. That proved unsuccessful, so we returned to the sunlit side once more.

There we again managed brief views of a handful of birds in flight before a couple more birders arrived, one of them our friend Dave South. Dave was out for a walk with his wife and one of his daughters and had just missed the action. After pausing for a while, we made our way down to Vanbrugh’s Grand Bridge, where a ring-necked duck had been reported, associating with the pochards. We scanned both sides of the bridge, but there was no sign of either the pochards or the ring-necked duck.

A young girl and her father approached and we shared the location of the crossbills; in return, they told us that the ducks had recently been flushed by a boat and that many appeared to have departed, including the pochards. Another birder mentioned that a small number of pochards had landed on the far eastern side of the water before drifting around the corner and out of sight. We went to investigate and found a small gathering of pochards, tufted ducks, coot, mallards and others, but no ring-necked duck - that was a bit unlucky. Returning to the bridge, we scanned again without success, and with time moving on we made one final circuit of the eastern side, again drawing a blank. We reached the cars just in time to avoid a potential parking ticket, and I headed for home.

Inevitably, as I write this entry on Sunday morning, a report has come through confirming that the ring-necked duck is back in place - typical!

Year list: 250.

Collingbourne Ducis & Titchfield Haven NNR :: 17 May 2025

We were keeping an eye on a Birdguides report of a Hudsonian godwit at RSPB Titchfield Haven, and decided we’d head that way - but only if the bird was confirmed. Before that, we planned to meet up with Kev’s sister, Karen @hobbylovinglife, and her partner Dean @worlebirder, to try our luck with quail. If the Hudwit was relocated, we’d make the journey to join the gathering of birders; if not, we’d continue deeper into the Downs and head for Salisbury Plain, hoping for stone-curlews and great bustards.

After stopping for breakfast en route, we were the first to arrive at the meeting point near Collingbourne Ducis. As we stepped out of the car, we were met by an unexpectedly chilly wind and a stiff breeze sweeping across the fields. We began scanning the area and were soon serenaded by the calls of skylarks, whitethroats, and corn buntings echoing from the fields.

Karen and Dean soon joined us, and since it was unlikely we’d spot a quail from where we stood, we set off on foot toward the area where Karen and Dean heard one calling last year. Along the way, we spotted a couple of red kites gliding effortlessly along the slopes. One eventually drifted right over us, calling as it passed - a lovely moment, and I was pleased to capture a decent photo, even with the bird partly silhouetted against the sky.

As we dropped lower, we started to see some meadow pipits, whitethroat, and corn buntings - there seem to be many more corn buntings generally across this region. In the UK they are a farmland specialist but have seen a major population decline (dropped by over 85% since the 1970s), making it a conservation concern. It is most common in eastern and southern counties with small populations in South Wales and parts of Scotland. They are now largely absent from northern England and much of the west.

Wiltshire is recognised for having the highest corn bunting population in the UK, largely due to its expansive open arable landscapes which provide ideal habitat. The birds prefer areas with minimal tree cover, favouring low hedges and open fields. Salisbury Plain, a vast chalk plateau, also serves as a crucial stronghold for corn buntings. Conservation strategies and efforts however have contributed to a 35% increase in corn bunting numbers in England over the past decade.

Down in the hollow and along the edge of a footpath we could see more corn buntings and some stonechats, but they were too distant for photos. We reached some likely areas for quails and stopped to listen for calls, Karen marching on to the corner of the road and stopping to listen from there. On her way back a couple of yellow wagtails dropped into the field margin and after she'd taken a few photos they flew off but then dropped in closer to where Kev, Dean and I stood. One bird left and was replaced by another coming in low over the crop - when it landed, we could see it was a rarer Channel wagtail - these are a fascinating example of hybridisation within the wagtail species complex. They are a hybrid of yellow and blue-headed wagtails.

They are not treated as a distinct species by birders, but as a hybrid or sub-species; the key feature is a pale bluish-grey head, lacking the prominent white supercilium of continental blue-headed variety. They are found sporadically in southern and eastern England during Spring and Summer with breeding confirmed in parts of Wiltshire, Hampshire, and Somerset. These areas have seen a small number of breeding Channel wagtail pairs, often in wet meadows or pastureland with livestock, which attract insect. With yellow wagtail numbers declining in the UK, all related forms like the Channel wagtails may also be at risk. In general, the loss of suitable wet grassland habitats is a key factor.

Suddenly, Dean stopped and told us he’d just heard a quail call. A couple of minutes later, I heard a single burst myself - unfortunately, neither Kev nor Karen caught anything, and despite waiting, there were no further calls. We dropped back and followed a track downhill, hoping to get out of the breeze and improve our chances of hearing the quail. It was much more sheltered and pleasant down there, but we didn’t hear the quail again.

We continued along the track, where we soon encountered several whitethroats flitting through the hedgerows, their scratchy song drifting along. A little further on, we came across a couple of stonechat family groups, busy and full of energy. The adults were actively foraging and being followed their fledglings, and it was a real treat to get clear views of a few of the juveniles, their speckled plumage standing out beautifully against a backdrop of spring blossom - a perfect scene of the season in full swing.

We'd seen that the Hudwit had been reported and decided that we'd return to the cars and head straight there - it would be a lifer for three of us - they are extremely rare vagrants in the UK. As of June 2025, there are seven accepted records of Hudsonian godwit in the UK, with an eighth record from Shetland in 2023 likely to be accepted soon.

Hudsonian godwits breed in remote areas of North America, winter in southern South America and undertake long-distance migrations, sometimes making non-stop flights of 6,000+ miles. The UK lies far outside their normal migratory corridor, so vagrancy is likely caused by: strong westerly winds, disorientation during migration, or perhaps weather events like hurricanes.

Hudwits are similar in shape to black-tailed godwits, but there are key differences: they are slightly smaller and more compact, their bill is long and slightly upturned with a pinkish base, and the underwing is a key identification feature, particularly in flight - dark greyish to blackish underwing coverts and axillaries. This dark underwing contrasts sharply with the pale belly and white rump when the bird is in flight and so is a key photo to capture when observing the species - very important for separation from black-tailed godwit, which has pale underwings.

The reserve had adjusted its operations to accommodate the influx of visitors, temporarily selling tickets at the Scrapes side entrance during the peak of the excitement. We entered and headed straight for the first hide, only to find it packed - quite literally elbow to elbow. Despite the crowd, we managed to set up our scopes and get the bird in view, though it was initially asleep. Fortunately, I found a spot by the window, giving me a good chance for some photographs, especially once the bird stirred and began moving out into the water.

The bird then flew in closer, though I missed the chance for a photo at first - it went on to put on a great show, giving us all prolonged views. We were then joined by Nick @old_caley and Anne Truby.

We were then treated to some flights, some just relocation, but also when a shelduck took exception to its presence.

At the far end, I spotted a little gull, but the heat haze made it impossible to get a clear record photo. We moved to the hide at the opposite end of the pool, and eventually, I managed to pick it out again, though the heat haze still posed a challenge. The Hudsonian godwit also shifted to our end, but by then the views had become more interrupted.

With time moving on we started back and bumped into Ewan Urquhart @Stormvogel99 and Jason Coppock @coppock_jason coming the other way and stopped for a chat - Ewan telling me about his time on Arran, and his trip to Shetland.

We stopped outside the gate and on the edge of the beach with an ice cream, waiting for Karen and Dean to catch up, a kestrel hovering just on the opposite side of the road - Karen was wanting another flight photo showing a clearer view of the underwing. They also bought ice creams, and I pointed out a couple of drake eiders down the beach but drifting our way - eventually they'd fly by.

It would take us over two hours to get home and so we set off leaving Karen and Dean to drop back onto Salisbury Plain on the way home.

Year list: 202.