Around Staffordshire :: 11 February 2026

Kev @kev07713 was still working hard on his last job before he retires, and was probably ready for a day off and could also have a rest from his daily drive as it was my turn - the only question was where to go. With yet another spell of wet weather to contend with, we had to choose carefully, and in the end, we decided to go looking for willow tits before journeying on to Mow Cop in Staffordshire for the long-staying shore lark.

We agreed on a later start than usual, setting off at 6.30am and heading north via the A46 and M69 before joining the M1. Before long, however, we ran into trouble: collisions ahead meant delays of an extra 20–30 minutes. With that in mind, we pulled off at the next services a few miles up the road, deciding that breakfast would be a better use of our time while the traffic hopefully eased. Once fed, we set off again, initially crawling along until things gradually began to clear. Eventually we passed the accident, now confined to the inside lane and hard shoulder, and were able to make steadier progress.

We continued on to our chosen site, hopeful of connecting with willow tit. The species has declined dramatically over recent decades, with population drops of well over 90% in parts of England and Wales. They have disappeared from large areas of their former range and are now largely confined to fragmented strongholds in northern England, parts of the Midlands, and a few scattered pockets elsewhere. Even within these areas they can be extremely local and often quiet outside the breeding season. Spring is typically the best time to look for them, when birds are more vocal and territorial, though late winter can also offer opportunities as natural food supplies dwindle and they begin venturing out from woodland in search of supplementary feeding sources.

We entered the hide to find we had it entirely to ourselves, which meant we could arrange the seating just as we liked, ensuring we both had clear views of the feeding trays and hanging feeders maintained by the reserve. A steady soundtrack of calling birds drifted in as various species arrived, taking full advantage of the bounty on offer, including some seed that Kev had brought.

Once we’d settled, birds began dropping into the three feeding areas to the left of the hide, each at a different distance. One was a little too close for comfort, another felt just about right (slightly farther out but probably ideal), and the third was larger yet more distant, better suited to viewing through binoculars than photography, though perfectly adequate for watching the comings and goings.

We were prepared for a bit of a wait and were more than content to enjoy the steady stream of other birds visiting the feeders. great, blue, long-tailed, and coal tits came and went, alongside blackbirds, chaffinches, dunnocks, house sparrows and robins. Overhead, siskins called from the treetops, their presence betrayed by sound alone as they stubbornly refused to descend into view.

We saw movement at the foot of the middle feeder and could see what we originally assumed would be a mouse but turned out to be a bank vole - another small rodent skurried in the grass between us and the feeding trays but we didn't ever get eyes on it for an ID. Bank voles are one of the most widespread and familiar small mammals in the UK, though more often heard rustling than actually seen. They favour woodland, scrub, hedgerows and rough grassland where dense cover offers protection. With their warm chestnut-brown upperparts, soft greyish flanks and blunt, rounded features, they have a rather endearing look and quite different from the larger-eyed, longer-tailed wood mouse that often shares the same habitat.

Unlike some small mammals, bank voles do not hibernate, and winter is a test of endurance rather than escape. They remain active throughout the colder months, moving along networks of shallow runways hidden beneath leaf litter, fallen branches or a protective layer of snow. Food, of course, becomes harder to come by. Autumn caches of seeds and nuts can be crucial, and their diet shifts towards whatever remains available: beech mast, acorns, fungi, roots and the occasional green shoot. Around well-managed reserves they quickly learn to take advantage of the bounty beneath feeding stations, darting out to gather fallen sunflower hearts or fragments of peanut before vanishing back into cover.

For the patient observer, though, winter offers the best chance of a sighting. Hunger can make them a little bolder, and at quiet hides they sometimes grow accustomed to the rhythm of human presence. Watch the ground beneath a busy tit flock and you may notice a small reddish shape materialise, whiskers twitching, pausing only briefly before collecting a prize and retreating along its secret pathways. In the stillness of a cold woodland winter’s day, those fleeting encounters can be every bit as rewarding as the birds above.

Still scanning through our binoculars, I picked up a bird in the tree beside the furthest feeding station and instantly recognised it as a willow tit - result. I alerted Kev and within seconds it slipped away into the hedge and trees to our left, vanishing as quietly as it had appeared.

A few minutes later it made its first brief visit to the table, in and out in a flash. Another shortish wait brought it back, this time offering a chance for a photograph, a pattern that continued over the next half hour or so, each appearance fleeting but enough to keep us thoroughly engaged.

Then the rhythm changed with the gaps between visits seeming to shorten noticeably and Kev suggested we might now be watching two birds rather than one. Sure enough, after another ten or fifteen minutes, we had confirmation: two willow tits together on the table at the same time, a quietly satisfying moment after the long wait. On a couple of occasions, we were also treated to views of them in the surrounding hedges, perched naturally and clearly enough for us to attempt a few more pleasing photographs, far preferable than the shots taken on the feeder table.

Outside, the rain poured relentlessly, making us very grateful for the shelter of the hide - inevitably, though, we would have to return to the car. Eventually the downpour eased just enough for us to make a dash, reaching the car without getting completely soaked.

We entered details for the car park suggested on BirdGuides into the SatNav and made our way to Mow Cop in search of the long-staying shore lark, first reported there on 16 January. Shore lark is a striking winter visitor to the UK, but it is rarely seen away from coastal habitats. Typically, a passage migrant from Scandinavia, it is most often found along the east coast on saltmarshes, shingle beaches, and open coastal flats; inland sightings are comparatively rare.

While a few shore larks do appear inland in some winters, they usually turn up as scattered vagrants or passage visitors, rarely staying long in one place. This bird’s loyalty to the same field for several weeks, foraging in rough grass and churned mud, makes it a particularly appealing and accessible target for birders.

We got out the car and made our way to the last sighting location, passing a birder coming the other way. Recent reports indicated the bird had been viewed in fields along the wall by the Gritstone Trail near the Old Man O’Mow, a muddy cow‑field. He confirmed that the bird was still showing but could be a little tinker in first locating it - he had posted his latest sighting on BirdGuides but it hadn't yet been updated on the app. We reached the area and immediately came across meadow pipits and skylarks flitting about the area, some of the skylarks chasing one another around. There was a light drizzle starting when after ten minutes or so Kev spotted the shore lark along the edge of muddy tractor tracks and called me back from where I was looking: where the last pin-drop had been advised.

Shore larks are small birds with a striking appearance, their most distinctive feature being a bright yellow face and throat, sharply contrasted with a black bib and mask, a high‑contrast look that stands out even at a distance. The upperparts are sandy brown streaked with darker tones, while the underparts are pale, and a faint pale stripe runs along the wing. In flight, the white wing panels are noticeable against the brown body. They feed on seeds and insects, often running along the ground in short bursts rather than hopping or perching in vegetation.

We watched as the bird worked along the edge of the broken earth along the tractor track and then across it, getting closer and closer. We snapped away with our cameras and rain started to fall, getting heavier. The lark took to the air and flew left and back along the field towards the village. Kev eventually relocated it before we decided to retire back to the car, getting soaked as we went.

We plotted our route home but opted for a route that allowed for a detour past Whitemoor Haye, hoping to catch a merlin if the weather had improved, and as I’d seen there a couple of weeks earlier. The drive was smooth, and we arrived on the lane under broken skies with no rain.

We parked and made our way to the spot I’d used before, and almost immediately we spotted a Slavonian grebe on the water. Turning back to scan the likely field, we couldn’t see anything of note at first. Soon, a raptor shot across the far side of the field and through the trees, and Kev later picked out a sparrowhawk perched on the lowest rung of a distant fence in the same area. Noting that the recently cut hedge was a little too tall to give him a good view, Kev decided to head back toward the car, where a raised track should provide a clearer vantage over the field.

We scanned the area, picking out numerous mute swans along with several Egyptian, Canada, and greylag geese, but there was no sign of our target bird. Continuing along the track, we enjoyed varied views across the fields. Soon, Kev stopped again as the hedge line had grown too tall, restricting his view, so he returned to the raised section for a better vantage. I carried on down the track, still able to see over the vegetation.

After a hundred yards or so, passing close to some low trees and bushes, a sudden movement flushed a bird from cover. Out it shot - a woodcock, dashing across the water and disappearing behind the raised banks and grasses on the far side; a very nice sight, if all too brief.

The track turned right and I stopped to look out to where several hares were crouched, and crows were scattered across the field. One crow caught my attention as it hopped and pecked around a hare - the hare didn't appreciate the attention and spun round to face the crow as it circled. I'm really not sure what was happening. Perhaps likely it wasn't predation on a healthy adult hare but more probable it was a crow investigating or probing a possible food opportunity, combined with natural curiosity or play.

I made my way back to where Kev was now stationed, and we were joined by a local birder who had returned from Derbyshire, where he’d been trying to connect with Tundra bean geese associating with white-fronted geese. He mentioned that partridges had been reported in the field recently - the first greys seen here for several years. We searched carefully but came up empty, and I hadn’t seen any on my previous visit either. As time passed without any further sightings of note, we eventually made our way home, arriving home a little later than planned but content with our outing, again despite the weather.

Year list: 162.

New Hythe, Broadstairs & Old Hunstanton :: 27/28 December 2024

On Christmas Eve an American yellow warbler was found at New Hythe in Kent by local birder Glenn Honey - a remarkable sighting as the species is a very rare visitor to the UK - there have been approximately ten recorded sightings of this warbler in the UK ,according to BTO records. The majority of previous sightings have been in Shetland, including one in October 2023.

News spread rapidly, drawing birders from across the region. Over the following days, the site saw significant activity, with reports from Lee Evans estimating up to 400 birders seeing the bird each day - it was most inconvenient as over the Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day there was no chance of visiting myself.

At first light the bird would come from roost in some buddleias but soon disappear for a while, presumably into the sewage works to feed. The bird was then frequently seen in a small group of alder trees near a stream, bordering a sewage works, or in alders a hundred metres or so back down the footpath. It was actively foraging, flitting through branches and occasionally dropping down into brambles in front of the alders. Its vivid yellow plumage made it relatively easy to identify, despite its constant movement and gave some welcome colour to the festive period. On Boxing Day, the bird showed exceptionally well through most of the afternoon and appeared to be defending the alders from chiffchaffs and various tit species.

So on Boxing Day evening Kev @kev07713 and I had a chat and agreed that Friday would be the best day to visit, planning to meet a bit later in the morning since the bird was most active from midday onwards. I picked him up and I was pleasantly surprised to find that his wife Karen @karenheath62 had decided to join us. The journey went smoothly, and we stopped for a late breakfast just before reaching the bird’s location. Upon arriving at the car park, we were pleased to find an available space and parked across from our friend Nick Truby’s @old_caley car.

We followed the footpath from the car park, and after a short walk, we spotted a few people gathered ahead. As we got closer, the crowd grew larger until nearly 300 birders were assembled, waiting and watching. For the first time, the warbler hadn’t been seen emerging from its roost in buddleias that morning, sparking conversations among the group about the possibility that it had moved on. The overnight conditions had been foggy and cold across much of the region, so Kev, Nick, and I felt confident the bird was still around. We anticipated it would make an appearance later, likely around lunchtime or in the afternoon when conditions improved.

A sparrowhawk flew at distance and landed to our right, while chiffchaffs, goldcrests, and long-tailed tits began appearing, foraging among the alders. Not long after, the sparrowhawk landed in the alders themselves, scattering the few birds present - a disturbance and activity that might have been influencing the warbler’s behaviour as well. Rich Mooney, a familiar face from various birding sites, came over to say hello.

A while later, a call went up, and the group of birders moved as one toward the outfall; someone had heard the warbler's call. Upon arriving, we learned that a couple of people had also caught sight of it. Soon after, the warbler appeared, but I struggled to get a clear view before it disappeared from sight - not enough to ID and confidently count it as a tick. It briefly popped up again, but I had trouble locking onto it before it flew off strongly to the right, heading back toward the alders. Once more, the crowd moved in unison, returning to our earlier position.

When we got there the warbler now showed better although was flitting quickly and between branches, left to right and up and down. It was difficult to keep track of and made locking onto it with a camera particularly challenging. In between movements it would frequently stop behind denser twigs and woody cone-like fruits making detailed photos near impossible. We got a number of shots of it from behind but eventually a handful from the front - Nick suffered alongside me.

Within just a few minutes the bird was gone, and we had to wait a considerable time before it returned - it also showed in the alders further back along the track; at one point it dropped behind the brambles and when I saw movement I started snapping only to find it was a lovely firecrest. Finally, we followed the crowds as it worked back through the trees and down the footpath, eventually crossing and along a brook. We weren't being afforded the lengthy views of the day before but were happy to have had good if only brief views of an exceptional bird. See Nick's account of the day here (once you've finished mine!).

While we were waiting, news came through about a Scops owl that had been reported in the grounds of Broadstairs Cricket Club and present for the past five days, with confirmatory photographs. There was also information about an organised twitch scheduled for 4:30 pm; how often would we be so close to a Scops owl? We decided to pack up and head to Broadstairs (an hour away), feeling incredibly fortunate to be in the area. Nick and Anne Truby had already seen one 18 years ago and are planning a trip to Lesvos next year, where they would certainly encounter more, so they decided not to join us.

The Scops owl is a species native to southern Europe, the Middle East, and parts of North Africa. It’s a rare but regular visitor to the UK, typically recorded about once a year, primarily in spring and autumn. It’s more unusual to spot one at this time of year. These owls are often found in woodlands, farmland, and parks. As nocturnal hunters, they prey on insects and small vertebrates, and they are smaller than our native little owl, roughly the size of a starling (19–21 cm in length).

We grabbed some food which we ate on the way and arrived at the site, parking further down the avenue to avoid obstructing residents' driveways; though it meant a bit of a longer walk back, it was still close. We crossed the cricket pitch, careful to avoid the roped-off cricket square, and made our way through the fog to join a crowd of over a hundred birders. After waiting for over an hour, a call came from our left that the bird had been located using thermal imaging scopes; the group had grown to over 200. We watched, but didn’t see it - we did, however, unfortunately flush a tawny owl.

We all returned to the original spot, where the Scops Owl had just been found perched high in an oak tree. A birder had been designated to direct us to the owl’s location with a torch, aiming just off the bird to minimise disturbance. We had the chance to take photos and videos before the torch was switched off, with everyone confirming they had seen the owl. It was an incredible experience and a life tick for us all, and a 300th species for the year for Kev. The bird was then left to go about its business and the crowd dispersed. The journey home was longer as although we didn't stop, we encountered pockets of fog which required some higher levels of concentration.

The next morning, Kev picked me up, and we headed to Old Hunstanton in Norfolk to see if we could catch a glimpse of the Glaucous gull that had been feeding on a seal carcass on the beach. It would be a good sighting, as Kev hadn’t seen one in 2024, and it would nicely bookend the year for me, having spotted one in Saltcoats at the start of January. (account here).

We stopped in King's Lynn at our usual breakfast venue, arriving on the beach a little after 9.45am. We had bumped into another birder hoping to see the gull too and walked with him from the car, through the golf course, and onto the beach, turning right towards where the carcass lay. In just a couple of minutes we came across six shore (horned) larks - it was very cold and there was a stiff wind. Regardless we stopped and watched the larks as they foraged and hunkered down in the sand. Our companion tried to get closer to the birds and they took to the wing and were lost - that is usually my job!

We chatted with a chap Kev had met in a hide while unsuccessfully twitching for a bird, only to find out that he had seen the Glaucous gull just ten minutes earlier. We searched the area, but it wasn’t there. While scanning the surroundings, we spotted dunlin, sanderlings, knot, various other gulls, turnstone, redshank, oystercatchers, little egrets, and more. My feet were getting cold, as I’d made the wrong choice in footwear for the conditions - thinking that our friends had had to walk through water to see the bird and opted against just walking boots. So, we decided to retreat to the dunes, where we could watch from a distance, hoping the gull might return without us standing over the carcass. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop others: dog walkers, pedestrians, fellow birders, and dogs rolling on the carcass. It was a bit frustrating, but I guess the beach is for everyone ...

We spent several hours watching with pink-footed geese over, mostly concealed by the fog that rolled in and out, and stonechats. A party of eight long-tailed tits passed through and a bar-tailed-godwit dropped in to a pool in front of us.

As dusk approached, gulls and other waders began to gather for their roost, with high tide still nearly an hour away. We watched and hoped, enjoying great views of flocks of oystercatchers, knot, sanderling, and dunlin along the water's edge. However, as time passed, everything gradually settled down. With the light fading, it was time for us to pack up and head home. It had been a pleasant day of birdwatching, but it was a shame we didn’t manage to see our target species.

Year list: 254.

I usually create a collage of some of my favourite or significant species of the year and post with a new year message on my social media feeds. If you are reading this then first of all, thank you!, and then please accept my best wishes for health, wealth and happiness for you and yours in 2025. Let’s hope for another cracking year of birding.

Bring on 2025!

Holkham Gap :: 03 March 2024

With Kev @kev07713 away in Ayrshire with his wife Karen, primarily to see the Myrtle warbler in Kilwinning, I decided to give birding a miss on Saturday as the weather forecast wasn't looking great. Instead, I decided to travel over to Holkham on Sunday to catch up with shore larks - there are frequent reports of sightings, so I thought it'd be a good chance to see them without risking disappointment.

Holkham Gap offers a fantastic opportunity to watch shore larks against the backdrop of the Norfolk coastline - it is part of the Holkham National Nature Reserve which encompasses a variety of habitats including sand dunes, salt marshes, and intertidal flats. The presence of a roped-off area serves as a reminder to beachgoers of the importance of responsible coastal stewardship. Visitors are encouraged to stay on designated trails and observe posted guidelines to minimise their impact on sensitive habitats and wildlife.

Shore larks, also known as horned larks, are birds that mainly inhabit open, barren areas such as sand dunes, beaches, salt marshes, and tundra. In the UK, shore larks are mostly seen during the winter months, especially along coastal areas. They are small songbirds, about the size of a sparrow, with distinctive black markings on their faces, a yellow throat and chest, and a black bib. They also have small "horns" or tufts of feathers on their heads (just visible in the second photo below), which are more prominent in males during the breeding season.

They are known for their ground-feeding habits, often foraging for seeds and insects in open areas, so patience is often helpful when trying to locate and observe them.

Strolling along the beach, I watched for any birds flying overhead. Reaching the roped-off area, I met another birder approaching from the opposite direction, but pausing to scan the surroundings with his scope. He had been searching for a while and had yet to spot any shore larks but mentioned spotting 22 velvet scoters on the sea amongst rafts of common scoters. There were two ringed plovers and a few meadow pipits in the grasses nearby, but no sign of the shore larks. After a wait, I decided to venture down to the water's edge.

Offshore, large rafts of common scoters were visible, and with the help of a scope some of the velvet scoters could be identified, though they were too distant for a photograph. Walking along the water's edge and then through the dunes, I hoped to find a snow bunting, but no such luck.

Returning to the dunes, I scanned the roped-off area from the opposite side and spotted a flock of around a dozen small birds flying through. On closer inspection, I confirmed they were indeed shore larks. They descended in the distance, prompting me to circle back to the other side for a better view. Before making it back I caught sight of the flock once more, this time confirming all members of the flock were shore larks. They landed beyond the roped-off area, and despite my efforts to locate them on the ground, they eluded me. Meanwhile, the number of meadow pipits seemed to be on the rise.

A few other birders arrived, and I let them know the larks were around - a couple stopped with me - I strolled around and after quite a time suddenly the larks were up in the air again and circling round. We all stood still, and they dropped close to begin with but were soon up and off into the roped off area. I worked around but views didn't improve, and I was eventually talking more and more of the same photograph.

I thought I'd get back to the sea and walked with a chap that had been stopped with me for the larks. Watching we picked out a couple of velvet scoters but not as many as earlier; they were still very distant. Velvet scoters are usually identifiable by their striking black plumage with contrasting white patches on their wings. They have a distinctive white patch on their forehead and a yellow knob at the base of their bill, which is more prominent in males. They are migratory birds, breeding in northern coastal regions such as Scandinavia and Russia. During the winter, they migrate south to warmer waters, including coastal areas of the UK. It was a bit tricky viewing at this distance with binoculars, and I was glad to have the opportunity for scope views. A female common scoter bobbed about a bit closer in, but slept constantly with the occasional opening of an eye.

Oystercatchers flew through but there were none by the water - mostly in the sea grasses - perhaps as there were quite a lot of people/dogs out walking.

Before I knew it, lunchtime was upon me, so I headed back to the Visitor Centre to grab a sandwich. While there, I took a moment to check BirdGuides for any local sightings, spotting a report mentioning white-fronted geese on the Freshmarsh so without hesitation, I jumped into the car and drove to the layby said to provide views. However, there I found a different assortment of geese - Canada, greylag, barnacle, and Egyptian. I spotted a brown hare sitting on its hind legs, leisurely preening its fur - I'd wait ...

I waited and waited hoping for a return, but eventually I had to set off for home - stopping when passing what appeared to be a grey partridge. Once out the car it was obvious it was yet another red-legged partridge. I'll find one this year somehow.

Year List: 150