Wyre Forest, Bedfordshire, & Rutland Water :: 09 & 12 May 2026

On a recent visit to the Wyre Forest, Kev @kev07713 and I failed to find either wood warbler or dipper, so today we decided to return after seeing that Miles Cluff @miles_cluff had reported seeing one there - birds now returning? Miles posted on X that he had “seen some very bold wood warblers in my time, but this one takes the cake - no fear whatsoever.”

On arrival, we decided not to head straight for our usual car park. Instead, we dropped down the slope to the bridge over Dowles Brook to see if we could finally connect with a dipper. Frustratingly, we’d never previously missed this species here, but this year they seem to have become much harder to see - not just for us, but for all the birders we’ve spoken to.

We pulled the car into a lay-by off the lane and settled ourselves on the edge of the bridge after confirming there wasn’t currently a bird showing. As we sat chatting and listening to the surrounding birdsong, we considered moving on several times but decided to wait a little longer. After almost half an hour, a bird suddenly appeared, flying low down the brook before passing directly over us and continuing upstream to the deeper section beyond the bridge - a dipper. The view was brief, but very satisfying.

With the dipper finally seen, we returned to the car and headed for the main car park to continue our search for a wood warbler. We wandered out through parts of the forest we don’t usually explore before looping back past the car park and onto tracks running through the woods parallel to the main route, all the while listening out for the distinctive call of a wood warbler.

Above we could hear the call of common redstart and from time to time we would be able to pick them out, usually perched high in the tree canopy. Anecdotally, quite a few birders seem to be reporting good numbers in traditional woodland areas, especially in Wales, here in the Wyre Forest, and parts of the New Forest. The warm, settled periods in April appear to have helped migrants move through quickly and establish territories early. That said, common redstart remains an amber-listed species in the UK, and long-term breeding trends are still mixed depending on region.

As we made our way along the tracks, we saw several pairs of roe deer. With the forest lush there is a lot of available food, but the deer are also more active and visible because does are heavily pregnant and bucks are establishing and defending territories. Roe bucks become increasingly territorial from spring onwards. They typically give birth from mid-May through June in the UK, with most fawns born in late May and early June - the timing is quite precise because roe deer have a delayed implantation process: mating takes place in summer (usually July–August), but the fertilised egg does not begin developing until winter. This allows births to coincide with peak spring vegetation and food availability.

We came across pairs of blackcaps, goldcrest, and then saw garden warblers chasing through the dense bushes off to our right but a distance. Garden warblers usually arrive from Africa in late April and are in full song through May and early June while establishing breeding territories. Unlike blackcaps, garden warblers tend to stay hidden in thicker vegetation, often in bramble patches, young woodland, willow scrub, or dense scrub near woodland edges. You often hear them long before you see them but by June, they often become much quieter and harder to locate.

Garden warblers are famously understated visually. Compared with something like a common redstart or wood warbler, they can look rather plain at first glance: mostly warm brown above and pale buff-grey below, with very few obvious markings. But many birders are fond of them because the song is so rich and beautiful compared with the bird’s rather modest appearance - much like nightingales, I think.

Still unable to locate our target bird we dropped down to one of the main tracks and made our way past the premises of "Peter the Bee and Friends". This is a dedicated nursery working to protect local pollinators by growing native, peat-free, insecticide-free wildflowers. The initiative helps reverse the decline of bees, moths, and beetles in the Wyre Forest area by encouraging wildlife gardening and supporting pollinator habitats. Their vision is that everyone should have a few wildflowers in their gardens even if it's just a balcony or a window box and believe that even small actions by many people will make a positive difference - how right they are.

As we passed the brick building, the call of a pied flycatcher caught our attention as it flitted around the lower branches of several large trees. At first, it stubbornly refused to perch in the open, remaining partially obscured by the branches, but eventually it landed in a much better position and we both managed to snap off a few photos before it disappeared into the trees beyond. We were also impressed by the number of bird and owl boxes mounted on the surrounding trees throughout this area.

We eventually rejoined the main path and headed back towards the gully where we had seen the tawny owl on our previous visit, still without any sign or sound of a wood warbler. As we reached the slope, we could hear and then see a common redstart perched in a tree just above the bench, while a few tree pipits were calling further beyond.

We decided to drop down towards the brook and listen along the bank there, but before we had gone very far the call of a lesser spotted woodpecker stopped us in our tracks. The call gave us a rough idea of where the bird was, but without seeing it we struggled once it fell silent again. We stood listening for several minutes, mainly to the tree pipits, while also watching two jays working their way along the slope down towards the brook - probably Kev’s favourite moment of the day.

Then came the call again. I looked up and managed to pick out the lesser spotted woodpecker on the branches of a dead tree, working its way around a branch and gradually moving into a better position for viewing. I pointed it out to Kev, but by the time he got onto the bird it dropped down behind a tree in front of us, completely obscuring the view and giving him just a fleeting sighting. We tried to relocate it, but despite our efforts we couldn’t find it again, although we heard it call.

This was the first time either of us had seen a lesser spotted woodpecker in the Wyre Forest, probably because we usually only visit once, or at most twice, during the period when the pied flycatchers, tree pipits, common redstarts, and wood warblers are present.

Along the river we didn't see anything new in the way of birds but did see several butterfly species including pearl-bordered fritillary, holly blue, and orange tips. Orange-tip butterflies seem to be restless and often seem unwilling to settle for more than a second or two, especially the males. In spring they appear to spend a huge amount of time patrolling along hedgerows, woodland edges, rides and damp meadows searching for females, which makes them appear constantly on the move. I think this was my first opportunity to take a photo of one this year.

Despite further searching, we were still unable to locate a wood warbler. We bumped into Mike @dogdoughty, who we regularly seem to encounter out birding, and he confirmed that he too had failed to find one. It certainly seems to be a poor year for them here. We slowly made our way back to the car and set off for home.

Kev was helping his brother with some work again on Monday, but Tuesday promised a much better forecast, although reports suggested that many of the birds we might have gone to see had already moved on. Instead, we decided to head across into Bedfordshire to look for turtle doves at a site we’ve visited over the last couple of years, following the disappearance of this species from RSPB Otmoor. We set off at a leisurely hour, though still before most people would have been sitting down to breakfast. It wasn’t too far to travel, and we would be on site before most people had even started work for the day.

We arrived, parked the car, and walked towards the spot where we’d enjoyed our best views on previous visits, listening as we approached for the distinctive call of a turtle dove - one of the most evocative sounds of late spring and summer, a soft, gentle purring.

We began scanning the hedgerows and surrounding trees and, as I followed a dove in the distance that was probably a collared dove, Kev suddenly spotted a bird dropping into the hedge nearby. Walking round carefully for a better angle, he quickly confirmed that it was indeed a turtle dove, and moments later it began calling briefly from the top of the hedge.

We positioned ourselves for a few photographs before stepping back to give the bird some space so we could simply stand and watch it. By now the area was becoming busier, with people returning after the school run, dog walkers appearing along the paths, and a few runners passing through. Eventually the turtle dove seemed to decide the activity had become a little too close for comfort and flew off strongly, disappearing into the distance and, we suspected, travelling quite some way from where we stood.

The turtle dove is now one of the UK’s most rapidly declining and threatened breeding birds. Once a familiar summer visitor, it has suffered a catastrophic decline over recent decades, including at our local site in Oxfordshire. Since the 1970s, the UK breeding population has fallen by more than 95%, and the species is now largely confined to parts of southern and eastern England, meaning that you increasingly must travel to specific sites if you want to connect with them.

We waited in the hope that the bird might return, or that we might encounter another, as we had heard that two had been seen at the site within the last week. We followed a narrow brook running between two hedgerows, hoping to pick up the birds along this stretch, but saw little other than woodpigeons until a little egret dropped into the hedge ahead.

We edged closer, but it appeared quite content to remain where it was, basking in the sun. Eventually it moved on, flying further down the brook before dropping into the water and reeds below.

We walked around to the far side of the hedge and onto a path running parallel with the brook, where we heard a cuckoo calling off to our left. Kev headed off to the right and disappeared into the distance, but before he returned, I’d managed a couple of views of the cuckoo - first as it shifted position in flight, and then perched on a spindly branch, its call giving it away.

Although slightly distant and seen against the sky, it was probably my longest view of the year, and perhaps only surpassed by the excellent flyover sighting at Pig Bush in Hampshire.

We returned to our original position and waited a while longer, kept entertained by a showy whitethroat, a cuckoo, and a calling Cetti’s warbler. In the end, we decided we might be in for a long wait; we’d heard that some birders had spent up to three hours there without a sighting and left empty-handed recently. With that in mind, and hoping to make other plans for the day, we decided to move on.

We checked BirdGuides and found nothing of note locally, so decided to head over to Rutland Water in the hope of seeing some ospreys. We often visit Eyebrook Reservoir to watch them fishing, but it is still early in the season, and the males are not yet under pressure to provide food for chicks, so visits tend to be more irregular at this time of year.

We drove to the Lyndon Visitor Centre, where we were given an update on the ospreys, along with news that a white stork had been moving between Manton Bay and the North Arm. It had apparently been on site for 12 days, though we hadn’t seen any previous mention of it. We then set out along the trail between the centre and Waderscrape hide. The first hide, Deep Water, produced little activity on the water, but at Tufted Duck Hide we found around eight people already in position.

We were told the white stork was on the opposite bank, though mostly obscured by reeds and long grass. We managed brief views of it and waited in case it showed more clearly. The bird had been seen well at times and was noted to carry a blue darvic ring; it is believed to have come from from one of the reintroduction projects in the UK. Eventually the bird walked out from the reeds, but at over 500m there was only ever going to be a record shot.

Just as the stork was walking along the shoreline, a female mandarin duck appeared in front of the hide with what we think was close to ten chicks hurrying around her. It caught us slightly off guard and we largely missed the chance to photograph the young birds, though we did get more prolonged views of the adult.

Mandarin duck is now a well-established breeding species in the UK, having originally been introduced from East Asia. Rutland Water is in fact one of the more reliable places in the country to encounter breeding birds, even if the species still looks rather exotic in appearance.

The downy chicks of mandarin duck look quite similar to those of mallard at a glance: small, mottled brown, and well adapted for camouflage along water margins. That general “cryptic brown fluff” pattern is common across many dabbling duck species. I’ve read that mandarin ducklings can sometimes show a slightly cleaner, more contrasting facial pattern than the more uniformly streaked mallard chicks and may appear a little darker and more sharply patterned overall, though this is quite variable. Without the female shepherding them around, they could very easily be overlooked.

We then made our way to Waderscrape Hide, which was much busier and offered wider windows looking across the bay. The resident female, known as Maya, has nested at Manton Bay since 2009 and is the most successful breeding female on the Rutland Water Nature Reserve. The resident male, known as 33 (after his leg ring identity), hatched at a nearby Rutland nest in 2011 and became Maya’s permanent partner in 2015.

As we entered the hide, two volunteers came over and pointed out the nest and the male’s perch. We set up our scopes and enjoyed good views of both birds. The male remained perched throughout our visit but rather distant and could well be a bird we might also encounter at Eyebrook Reservoir. While it’s always good to see them at all, it is far more rewarding to watch them in flight and fishing, so hopefully we might connect with one more closely later in the year.

I had an appointment at teatime, so we eventually packed up and headed home to give me time for a shower and dinner before heading out again. Hopefully it won’t be too long before we’re out again.

Year list: 250.

Bedfordshire :: 10 May 2025

At this time each year, Kev @kev07713 and I make our annual pilgrimage to see turtle doves. Since they're no longer present at our local RSPB Otmoor, we've had to venture further afield, most often into Bedfordshire. Thankfully, the birds have been reliable there in recent years, and we were hopeful they'd returned. We’d even seen a recent photo we believed was taken at our usual spot, so we decided that today was the day to visit.

We arrived, and even before reaching our usual vantage point, we could hear a turtle dove calling. Promising. A birder with a camera was already in place, and we soon spotted the bird high in the tree canopy, calling steadily. He told us this was his fourth consecutive day here, and that the bird had spent about 90% of its time perched in that very spot.

I think our visit last year was a couple of weeks later, and we had the pleasure of seeing two birds then - perhaps more are still on their way this year. In 2023, we observed nest-building around the 10th of May; last year it was closer to the 22nd.

We waited, hoping the bird would shift position for a clearer view, but it stayed put. We tried approaching from the opposite side of the treeline and hedgerow, but the foliage was too dense to see through. Directly beneath the bird ran a footpath that saw a steady stream of runners, walkers, and dog owners, none of whom seemed to bother it in the slightest.

Occasionally, the bird would fly off, presumably to feed elsewhere, but after about 20 minutes, it would return to its favoured perch and resume singing. Its song is a mellow, rolling purr, repeated softly and steadily, like a contented cat or a gently bubbling kettle - unmistakable. I took a few photos from a distance before trying to capture some shots through the tree canopy from the footpath.

From the footpath I managed to locate a cuckoo that had been calling over on the edge of the nature reserve, perched high in a tree. I think several were working the area and there was frequent calling all along this stretch.

Our friends Nick @old_caley and Anne Truby arrived and joined us in watching the bird perched in its usual spot. We chatted for a while, especially during one of the bird’s absences. Eventually, it returned, but by then we were already thinking about our next move. A red-footed falcon had been reported not far from here, and we decided to head over to see if we could get better views than we had last week - we'd hear from Nick later that a second bird had eventually appeared and joined the first, though still showing at the same distance.

We eventually found somewhere to park and followed the path to the spot where the sighting had been marked on Birdguides. Before long, we were overlooking a body of water fringed with reeds. A couple of hobbies were hunting over the area, and we tracked them through the scope, hoping the red-footed falcon might appear nearby. A birder who had been watching from the opposite bank told us he'd seen the falcon earlier, right out in front of us, but it had since vanished, chased off by one of the hobbies.

We waited and were treated to sightings of up to four bitterns relocating across the reeds, but the rising heat created a significant haze, making even record shots nearly impossible. All around us, Cetti’s, reed, and sedge warblers called.

Eventually, we spotted the red-footed falcon, high up and distant. We watched as it dropped out of view, only to pick it up again as it flew far to our left and disappeared behind us. Apparently, it had been relocating to that area the day before, so we decided to head there too, though a wrong turn meant we had to take a bit of a detour.

After a short walk, we finally reached the spot. It wasn’t long before a few hobbies began cutting through the sky, swift and agile. Then, we picked her out: the female red-footed falcon, distinguishable by her warm rufous underparts and pale head. Once again, she was distant, often little more than a silhouette against the sky but we tracked her movements through the scope as she quartered the treeline. The hobbies, meanwhile, treated us to several close flybys, offering excellent views as they stooped and twisted in pursuit of insects.

Having had no real record photos last weekend I had a go at capturing something, however poor - can you see what it is yet. Well I think you can!

As of late May 2025, the UK has experienced a significant influx of red-footed falcons, with at least 50 individuals reported across Britain and Ireland. This marks one of the most substantial spring arrivals of this species in recent years. Notably, Carlton Marshes in Suffolk recorded up to seven individuals present simultaneously.

This influx is considered one of the largest on record, though it still falls short of the remarkable 1992 event, which saw an estimated 250 individuals across Britain. The current surge is likely influenced by persistent easterly winds during the spring migration period, facilitating the movement of these falcons from their breeding grounds in Eastern Europe to the UK.

Our attention was caught by a turtle dove calling softly behind us, but despite a quick search, we never managed to spot it before the bird fell silent.

Among the flurry of aerial activity, we spotted a few insects on the wing. I was especially pleased to get my first proper chance this year to photograph a bee-fly, its furry body and long proboscis hovering with precision as it fed on early wildflowers. Not long after, a four-spotted chaser dragonfly appeared, patrolling the edge of the sllope down to the water. It paused briefly on a stem, giving me a chance to admire its broad, dark wing spots and amber-tinted body, a classic early-season species that always signals summer isn’t far off.

Knowing that clearer views of the falcon weren’t going to happen anytime soon, we reluctantly began packing up our gear. The afternoon warmth had settled in, and the bird remained distant and elusive. We called it a day, retracing our steps along the path back to where we’d left the car. The quiet countryside was bathed in soft golden light as we walked, reflecting on the highlights of the day. Before heading home, we stopped for an ice cream, a perfect reward after hours spent in the field.

Year list: 199.

RSPB Snettisham :: 27 July 2024

I so wanted to go for the spotted sandpiper at Cheddar Reservoir and many of my friends had managed to do so over the last couple of days, but at work there were things to do and no opportunity to drop out. I am desperate to connect with one as I missed the individual at Upton Warren a couple of years ago - this error of judgement comes up from time-to-time.

On Friday night I discussed birding options for the following day with Kev @kev07713 and he said that the traffic had been horrendous when he'd visited that day and that he would skip a return for seconds on this occasion (he had been on the road for 10 hours but only with the bird for 1½) - in any case, given the disturbance from birders getting closer and closer and eventually flushing the bird, he expected it to depart overnight in clear conditions (in fact it did depart and so it was a great call to do something else).

The obvious next choice was RSPB Snettisham offering an array of waders; another good reason for visiting there was to meet up with Kev's sister Karen @hobbylovinglife and her partner Dean @worlebirder who planned to do the same.

I picked Kev, Karen and Dean up from Kev's house at 05.00am, Karen and Dean having travelled up to Banbury in the early hours from Gloucestershire. We didn't have to get there too early as it is best to plan visits around high tide for the best chance to see large flocks. High tide would be 11.10am but we needed a couple of hours before to hopefully catch the semipalmated sandpiper as the tide came in, and before the birds were flushed onto the freshmarsh lagoons and up the coast.

We stopped in Kings Lynn for a leisurely breakfast and as we were finishing up Alan Boddington @alanbodd sat down at the table beside us - we had a good natter. Eventually we all set off heading for the Snettisham with a report on BirdGuides that the semipalmated sandpiper had been located.

Arriving in the car park we set out seeing ducks and gulls on one of the lagoons, with a dozen or so Egyptian geese. We moved quickly but listened out as we hoped to connect with the turtle doves this site is known for.

Turtle Doves prefer open woodlands, hedgerows, and areas with scattered trees and bushes. They are often found in farmlands, gardens, and scrublands; primarily feed on seeds, particularly those of arable weeds and cereals. They forage on the ground and are often seen feeding in fields and along field margins. They are summer visitors to the UK, arriving in late April to May and departing by September. During this period, they can be seen and heard here at Snettisham.

Their distinctive purring call can help locate them in dense vegetation, hedgerows and field edges where they may be feeding or perching.

Onto the sea wall we could see a congregation of birders a couple of hundred metres ahead - we stopped with a birder looking through his scope, finding that he was on a turtle dove. It wasn't calling but was perched atop a line of bushes at some distance - it would be the only one we'd see. The most recent estimates suggest that there are fewer than 2,000 breeding pairs of turtle doves remaining in the UK. This number represents a drastic decline from previous decades, so is a special encounter. Regardless, we had a date with the semi-p sandpiper and so pushed on.

The semipalmated sandpiper is a small shorebird native to North America and a rare vagrant to the UK with only sporadic sightings, usually involving single birds. They undertake long migratory journeys from their breeding grounds in the Arctic to their wintering grounds in South America. Most UK records occur during migration periods, particularly in August to October.

In breeding plumage, they have a mottled brown back, white underparts, and a distinctive black centre stripe on their crown. In non-breeding plumage, they are more uniformly greyish-brown above and white below. The name "semipalmated" refers to the partial webbing between their toes, which can be a helpful identification feature.

We joined the birders already in place and they put us on the bird - we had views through the scopes, but the distance made it tricky to capture anything but a dodgy record shot; it didn't help that I'd left the camera on full frame which made it even harder to pick out the bird. This was a lifer for Karen, and she excelled with her photos (here) which were much more detailed than mine - the extra reach with her bridge camera. There was no chance we’d be able to see the webbing on the feet.

We watched the bird for a while, but it didn't seem to be making any effort to close the gap to us. Numbers of little terns, a couple of Mediterranean gulls, and sandwich terns flew through with significant numbers of godwits, knot, dunlin amongst others feeding on the mud. Suddenly there was an eruption of waders into the sky, and we followed them as they swirled around - the reason for the agitation soon became clear as two Arctic skuas appeared, one of each of the colour morphs: a dark morph (uniformly dark brown) and a light morph (paler underparts with a dark cap and back).

The Arctic skua is a medium-sized seabird with a sleek, dark body and pointed wings. They are notorious for their piratical behaviour, often chasing and harassing other seabirds to steal their food, a behaviour known as kleptoparasitism. They are agile fliers and are often seen engaging in spectacular aerial chases.

Arctic skuas breed on coastal moorlands and islands in the UK, particularly in Scotland, including the Shetland and Orkney Islands, and occasionally in northern mainland Scotland. After the breeding season, they migrate to the southern hemisphere, wintering at sea in the subtropical and tropical oceans. The UK population is relatively small and has been declining with an estimated 1,200 to 1,500 breeding pairs, varying annually based on breeding success and environmental conditions.

In Norfolk they are typically seen during their migration rather than as breeding residents. They flew straight through.

We were able to pick out a few little stints and the same number of curlew sandpipers. The curlew sandpiper is another notable bird species that can be observed at Snettisham. In breeding plumage, it has rich chestnut-red underparts and mottled grey and brown upperparts. In non-breeding plumage it is pale grey above and white below, with a white rump and supercilium (eyebrow line). It is also a long-distance migrant, breeding in the Arctic and wintering in Africa, Asia, and Australia. They are typically seen in the UK during their migration periods. High tide is an optimal time to see them as they gather with the other waders at roosting sites.

The tide was advancing and some of the waders were getting closer - we'd all lost the semipalmated sandpiper.

The tide was flushing many of the knot, godwits, dunlin, oystercatchers and others from the bay, many flying over us and into the freshmarsh lagoon behind - a great spectacle. We decided to walk along to a hide where you could watch the assembled waders congregating on small islands. Spotted redshanks hung out with some cormorants. A Mediterranean gull and several sandwich terns roosted with assorted gulls on the island directly in front.

There was an update from South Screen that a white-rumped sandpiper had been found and so we quickly set off and found the hide already full of birders, packed in like sardines. Fortunately, we are all slim (haha), and soon all four of us had managed to squeeze in and had eyes on the bird. Initially it was asleep, popping its head out sporadically - eventually a tern dropped in beside moving it right and giving us a better view - even a wing-stretch.

The white-rumped sandpiper is a small shorebird from North America that occasionally appears as a rare but regular vagrant in the UK. In breeding plumage, it has a greyish-brown back with black streaks, a white rump (hence the name), and a distinctive white stripe over the eye. In non-breeding plumage, it is more uniformly greyish with less distinct markings. The white rump, usually visible in flight, is a key distinguishing feature. It also has a relatively long primary projection beyond the tail, giving it a pointed-winged appearance.

The white-rumped sandpiper was roosting with numbers of dunlin and knot; a spoonbill and domestic white goose were on the slope behind.

Red knots are migratory birds, passing through the UK during their journeys between their Arctic breeding grounds and wintering areas in West Africa; some also spend the winter in the UK. In breeding plumage, they have striking reddish-orange underparts and mottled gray and brown upperparts. In non-breeding plumage, they are more uniformly grey above and white below. They are known for their spectacular flocks, often seen in large numbers, especially during high tide roosts at Snettisham.

The best time to observe them is during high tide when they gather in large flocks on the mudflats and beaches; the sight of thousands of birds in flight is a remarkable spectacle.

We spotted another curlew sandpiper in the flock and continued scanning to see if we could add anything else, but then retired to the sea wall and a couple of benches for a coffee and lunch break.

While we still scanned the birds, picking out another little stint, we worked our way back along the sea wall and towards the car. We stopped on several occasions still daunted by the number of birds in view - I have never seen so many little terns in one place, Adrian Borley @AdrianBorley reporting a personal count of a minimum 357 a couple of days later ...

Little tern appear to have had a successful breeding season in Norfolk, particularly at Snettisham. Snettisham is part of the Wash, a large estuarine system that is crucial for many bird species. The successful breeding of little terns here highlights the importance of maintaining and protecting such habitats. This success is significant given the challenges faced by this species.

Reports indicate an increase in the number of nesting pairs at Snettisham with measures leading to a higher survival rate of chicks. Despite the successful season, little terns continue to face threats such as habitat loss, climate change, and disturbance; continued efforts are still needed.

We had a great visit, but everyone was starting to feel weary and we elected to stop at the cafe at the entrance to the reserve for a drink and freshen up before the journey home - never stopped there before and well worth remembering it is there.

Year list: 224.