Showing posts with label wood warbler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wood warbler. Show all posts

Sunday, 31 May 2026

Woolbeding, Earlswood, & Wyre Forest :: 21-23 May 2026

Last year, Kev @kev07713 and I enjoyed a visit to a relatively new public watchpoint in Sussex for honey buzzards – my report can be found here. For many years, breeding sites and watchpoints for this scarce raptor were kept under wraps, but the Sussex Ornithological Society has since publicised a small number of approved viewing locations to encourage responsible birdwatching. Woolbeding Common, near Midhurst, has become one of the most reliable public sites in Sussex for observing the species. The best time to visit is from late May through July, particularly on warm days when the birds take advantage of thermals and soar high above the woodland canopy.

This year we were joined by Kev's wife, Karen @karenheath62. On arrival, we found a small group of birders already in position, peering through their scopes and scanning the skies. We joined them and settled in for what would prove to be a patient vigil. The air was filled with the songs of woodlarks and tree pipits, while siskins, linnets and a great spotted woodpecker passed overhead. Before long, common buzzards and red kites began to appear, but despite careful scrutiny we were confident that none of them were the honey buzzards we had come to see.

Distinguishing a honey buzzard from a common buzzard can be difficult, particularly at long range, but a combination of shape, flight style, and plumage features will usually allow an identification.

Shape is often the most useful clue. Honey buzzards have a small, pigeon-like head that projects noticeably beyond the leading edge of the wings, giving them a distinctive cuckoo-like appearance. They also show a longer neck, a slimmer body and a longer tail, which can lend them an almost falcon-like profile in flight.

Their flight style differs from that of common buzzards. Honey buzzards are generally more graceful and buoyant, often gliding on flat wings that can appear slightly pushed forward. During display flights, they may perform characteristic wing-clapping above their back and don't hover.

The tail is one of the most reliable identification features. It is relatively long and typically shows a broad dark terminal band, together with one or two additional dark bands along its length. The wings usually display a dark trailing edge, and the spread primaries often reveal six clearly visible "fingers". The underwing can appear strikingly pale, creating a strong contrast with the darker flight feathers.

We turned as another birder arrived and immediately recognised a familiar face from Oxfordshire - Ewan Urquhart @Stormvogel99. After exchanging greetings, he settled onto the slope beside us and we resumed our skywatching. Before long, two more raptors appeared, though neither was our target species: first a sparrowhawk and then a hobby. The wait for a honey buzzard continued.

As the morning wore on, one of the other birders overheard our conversation and came across to introduce himself. It soon became apparent that we all followed one another on X, and our new acquaintance turned out to be Steve Wilson @stevewilson1706. After a long chat, we returned our attention to the skies and were finally rewarded when our first honey buzzard appeared high to our right. Through the scopes we watched it circle for a couple of minutes before it suddenly dropped away, gliding down the slope and disappearing from view.

Honey buzzard

As the day progressed, we began to see more raptors, including a couple of additional honey buzzards, although none provided views as good as our first bird. By now, the increasing heat haze was making photography more challenging, resulting in noticeably softer images.

However, we were fortunate to enjoy a couple of encounters with goshawks in front of our vantage point. Although the conditions were now far from ideal, the birds were just close enough for us to salvage some worthwhile photographs from the heat-distorted images.

Goshawk
Goshawk
Goshawk
Goshawk
Goshawk

Having brought our lunch with us, we decided to remain at Woolbeding for the rest of the day rather than search for birding opportunities elsewhere. From time to time we relaxed in our camping chairs, scanning the skies and enjoying the warm conditions.

We continued to watch in the hope that a honey buzzard might drift closer and provide better views, but it was not to be. Nevertheless, we were more than satisfied with the sightings we had enjoyed and were equally content to soak up the atmosphere of the site and the birds around us. Tree pipits regularly parachuted down from behind us to the trees below, while mistle thrushes commuted between their nesting areas and feeding grounds. It was one of those occasions where simply being out was reward enough.

Tree pipit
Mistle thrush

Eventually, we packed up our gear and began the journey home, thoroughly satisfied with an excellent day's birding.

The following afternoon, while going about my usual business, I noticed an update reporting that a spotted sandpiper had been relocated at Earlswood Lakes following an earlier negative report. I contacted Kev to see if he fancied making the trip, but he was tied up for the afternoon and suggested we might try the following day instead. Not wanting to risk the bird disappearing overnight, I decided to head over on my own. With rare birds, you can never be certain how long they will stay.

I'd never visited Earlswood Lakes before and found the traffic in the area rather busy, but I reached the dedicated car park without too much delay. As I was unloading my camera and binoculars, a passing birder noticed my equipment and kindly confirmed that the bird was still present, favouring the gravel island on the far side of the lake from the car park.

Armed with this encouraging news, I set off along the track. Reaching the causeway, I soon located the spotted sandpiper on the edge of the dam wall, hopping among the rocks as it gradually moved away from me. Other visitors were using the same path and, as they passed by, the bird became increasingly wary and edged further along the shoreline. Eventually it flew to the bank around the corner, but not before I had managed to grab a photograph.

Spotted sandpiper

The spotted sandpiper is a scarce but annual visitor to Britain from North America. Although records can occur at any time of year, there is a noticeable spring peak during May and June, when overshooting migrants occasionally appear on both the coast and inland wetlands. As a result, a spotted sandpiper found in late May is not unusual and falls within the species' expected pattern of occurrence in Britain. A review of British records suggests that, between 1950 and 2021, there have been 231 records, with clear peaks in May–June and again in August–October. On average, Britain receives around five records per year.

I noticed another birder standing near the bank where the bird had landed and, as I approached, the spotted sandpiper suddenly flew out and returned to the gravel island that seemed to be its favoured location. We watched it there for a while, but at that distance the photographs were never going to be particularly useful, especially given the worsening heat haze and harsh afternoon light.

Before long, the bird took flight again and headed back towards the dam wall where I had first found it. Conscious that I had already used up much of the time I had available, I began making my way back, hoping the bird would remain settled and offer me one final opportunity for some better photographs.

A couple of other birders joined me as we retraced our steps. Fortunately, I soon relocated the bird tucked in close to the wall, where it appeared remarkably relaxed and rather sleepy. In fact, many of my photographs showed it with its eyes closed. After taking a few more shots, I decided to leave the bird in peace, as it seemed particularly prone to being flushed whenever people passed too closely.

Spotted sandpiper

Talking with Kev later, we decided to return to the Wyre Forest the following day after receiving reports from a friend’s blog of sightings of a wood warbler. On the way, we planned a short detour so Kev could see the spotted sandpiper, as it only required a minor diversion.

We arrived at the car park and made our way towards the water, but initially we were unable to locate the bird. However, by the time we reached the far side overlooking the island, I caught sight of the spotted sandpiper flying in and settling down onto the island.

Spotted sandpiper

We watched the bird for a while and enjoyed a chat with one of the local birders before our bird flew back to the dam wall, where I had seen it on a couple of occasions the previous day. As this was only intended to be a brief stop, we began making our way back towards the car, once again hoping that the bird would remain in the area long enough to allow some closer photographic opportunities.

The spotted sandpiper appeared far more settled than it had the day before, spending much of its time feeding along the water's edge. By positioning ourselves ahead of its path, we were able to let the bird walk past us without causing any disturbance, avoiding the risk of flushing it. With the softer early morning light and no heat haze to contend with, I felt that my photographs were an improvement on those from the previous day.

Time to head for the Wyre Forest.

Spotted sandpiper
Spotted sandpiper
Spotted sandpiper
Spotted sandpiper
Spotted sandpiper
Spotted sandpiper

After arriving at the car park, we set off along the main track towards an area where a friend's blog had reported wood warblers had recently been heard and subsequently seen. Along the way we encountered several male pied flycatchers, along with one or two females, all busily gathering food before returning to their nesting sites.

In the past, most of my photographs of this species had been of the striking black-and-white males, but on this occasion, I decided to focus my attention on the more subtly coloured female, hoping to capture a different perspective of this attractive woodland bird.

Pied flycatcher

As we searched for the best point to leave the main track, we encountered a couple of roe deer and heard the unmistakable song of a male redstart, which was giving it large. After a short search, we located the bird perched high in a distant tree. Although it remained some way off, it was close enough for a record photograph before we continued on our way.

Common redstart
Common redstart

We climbed the slope and carefully worked our way around the most likely area, eventually picking up the call of a wood warbler a short distance back down the hillside and slightly behind us along the track. As we retraced our steps, the song became increasingly clear, and it wasn't long before Kev managed to pick the bird out in the canopy.

We repositioned ourselves to circle the singing bird and reached a section of the slope where it was often roughly at eye level, allowing for far better views through the leaves. From there we were able to settle in and simply enjoy the experience of being in the presence of this restless woodland sprite, as it moved and sang high above us in the treetops.

There isn't any published national analysis yet showing that wood warblers have been reported in lower numbers this spring, so it's difficult to say with confidence that there are fewer birds this year. However, several birders have commented that they seem scarcer or more localised than expected in some traditional sites.

The species is on the UK Red List, with the breeding population estimated to have fallen by around 81% since the mid-1990s, and its breeding range has contracted significantly. Given the species' long-term decline in Britain, any encounter with a singing wood warbler remains a special experience and one not to be taken for granted.

Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler

We decided to give the bird some peace, as it had been calling almost continuously both before and during our visit, and we didn't want to contribute to any unnecessary expenditure of energy. With that in mind, we left it to its own devices and began making our way back along the track towards the car.

Along the way, we stopped to examine a curious larva crossing the path. At first, we weren't sure what it was, but after a little investigation we discovered that it was a glow-worm larva. With its flattened, segmented body and armoured appearance, it was an intriguing find and an unexpected wildlife bonus to add to our walk.

Unlike the familiar glowing adults, the larvae are elongated, segmented creatures with a somewhat armoured appearance, typically dark brown or black with pale markings along the body. At first glance they can resemble miniature woodlice or beetle larvae, but a closer look reveals their distinctive flattened shape and powerful jaws, which they use to prey on snails and slugs. Remarkably, the larvae are also capable of producing a faint greenish glow, a feature thought to deter potential predators. They spend up to two years in this stage before eventually pupating and emerging as adult glow-worms.

Glow-work larvae

As we made our way back, we passed the sunny banks that are favoured by butterflies, particularly pearl-bordered fritillaries. A few were actively nectaring among the flowers, providing another opportunity for photographs. Although we had already photographed the species on our previous two visits, we couldn't resist taking a few more shots of these attractive butterflies in the warm sunshine.

Pearl-bordered fritillary
Pearl-bordered fritillary

Not far from there, we came across a chap who was waiting for the butterflies to settle on the ferns in the hope of getting some photographs. We stopped for a chat and, while talking, noticed a pair of common redstarts busily provisioning a nearby nest.

The birds were making frequent visits with food for their hungry young, giving us excellent views of their activity. It was a real pleasure to watch the pair at work, constantly on the move as they shuttled back and forth between feeding areas and the nest site.

Common redstart
Common redstart
Common redstart
Common redstart

Having returned to the car, we decided that the day was still young and that there was enough time to make a detour back into Oxfordshire to one of our regular sites for spotted flycatchers. On arrival, we bumped into a workman whom we had met on a couple of previous visits. He confirmed that the flycatchers were still present and that he had recently seen them perched in the surrounding trees and on the overhead wires. Almost on cue, we picked up a pair high in a nearby tree before they dropped down and disappeared.

We spent some time working the site and eventually located at least one pair actively using the area. They regularly perched in the trees, while the male occasionally chose the wires as a lookout point between feeding sorties. It was a particularly welcome sighting, as I had somehow managed not to seek out spotted flycatchers at all the previous year, making this an enjoyable reunion with a favourite summer visitor.

Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher

We located the female perched quietly in a tree, partially obscured by the foliage. She remained largely motionless while the male made repeated foraging sorties from nearby perches, sallying out to catch insects before returning to her. On several occasions we watched him fly directly to the female and pass food to her, a behaviour often associated with pair bonding and courtship, although males may continue feeding females during the early stages of nesting.

It was fascinating to watch this interaction unfold. The male appeared tireless, regularly departing in search of prey before returning a few moments later with another offering. Meanwhile, the female remained concealed within the cover of the tree, accepting the food before settling back onto her perch. The repeated exchanges provided a wonderful insight into the pair's breeding behaviour and suggested that nesting activity was likely underway.

Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher
Spotted flycatcher

Eventually we decided that we'd better head for home and prepare for our next outing.

Year list: 255.

Tuesday, 29 April 2025

North Wales & Wyre Forest :: 26 April 2025

I returned from Scotland and arrived home on Friday evening. Kev and I had agreed to head to North Wales for our annual black grouse trip. With enough time, we also planned to swing by the Wyre Forest to look for some of its specialist woodland species - wood warblers were likely in by now, joining the pied flycatchers.

We settled on a 2.45am departure, aiming to be in position by around 5.00am. Thankfully, I wasn’t driving; I’d already driven a six-hour journey earlier that day and only managed about four hours of sleep. Given the early start and our plan to be in place by sunrise, we packed some breakfast - food and drink we could have in the car, which we’d be using as a hide.

The lek is a traditional ground where male black grouse gather to perform elaborate displays in a bid to attract females. We arrived and found it was still dark, getting to our spot and taking the first place in the pull-in. Looking out from our unusual hide across the open moorland, the sky was still heavy with night, and it was cold with the windows down. The light gradually crept over the hill behind all the time hearing the sound: bubbling coos and rapid hisses - an otherworldly chorus, part gurgle, part hiss. Out of the gloom the black grouse began to materialise, jet black with a white wing-bar, and tail fanned open showing striking white under-tail coverts, their red eye-combs flaring as they display and prepare for battle. They stop, flutter, circle and parallel walk with other males in choreographed aggression, trying to out-perform their rivals. Occasionally fights break out and although it is intense, it is rarely very violent.

As the sun rose, shafts of sunlight poured onto the lek, illuminating the iridescent sheen of the males' plumage. After a couple of hours, the action began to slow and the males started to disperse, the moor beginning to return to silence - although not completely with regular calls from red grouse and cuckoos.

Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse
Black grouse

We turned the car and drove back to the car park for a stretch and to see if we could spot any cuckoos - we'd heard them call from this direction. With coffee in hand, we walked down the slope and started scanning with scope and bins, also keeping an eye out for a ring ouzel (we wouldn't find any today). After a while scoping, we found an individual perched on top of a very very distant tree, a second individual passing a little closer but ultimately continuing down the slope to where our first bird was. Then a third appeared with them and this kicked off some chasing and displaying over the trees - it was good to watch but frustrating as it wasn't possible to record any of the action, with the camera or phonescoping.

Cuckoo
Cuckoo
Cuckoo

Content with our views but realising we might not get any better views of the cuckoos, we jumped back into the car and drove passed the lek where numbers had dropped to just a couple of individuals, and then along the track. We were now on the hunt for red grouse - hopefully these wouldn't prove to be difficult.

Spotting red grouse along the narrow winding road that cuts through the heather-clad moor is a quieter, more spontaneous kind of wildlife encounter and less theatrical than the black grouse lek we'd just left. The ground is a mosaic of rich purples and browns and so you have to stay alert to pick out a head that may pop above the heather or sitting on top. At first they appear almost invisible, their russet-brown plumage perfectly matching the scrubby surroundings. But once you see them you seem to get you eye in.

It is a round-bodied bird with a slightly hunched posture, a bold white eye-ring, and a red eyebrow (the eye comb, more prominent in males). Often, they seem to stare at you for a moment and then either duck down, flap and depart (often calling with their "go-back go-back call), or if you are lucky they return to feeding and give stunning views. Their walk is part strut, part scuttle - almost like they are always in a hurry but aren't sure where to go.

Their presence is a sign of the health and character of the moorland, thriving in heather-rich uplands shaped by traditional land use like low-intensity grazing - there’s a strong presence of sheep across this area. We were fortunate to encounter good numbers of red grouse, with several birds obligingly close, allowing us time to watch and photograph their behaviour.

There’s something undeniably special about seeing red grouse this way, often surprisingly near, exuding a proud, slightly wary energy with that unmistakable fierce look. A few sat upright and calm, radiating a kind of quiet confidence. At one point, one even walked right out onto the road ahead of us, as if to remind us of whose ground we were on.

Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse
Red grouse

Along the route we came across more meadow pipits and a few wheatears, always keeping the interest going. We paused to look around and I mentioned that we hadn't yet seen a whinchat, and as soon as I mentioned its name one called to our left. We pulled the car in for a look around.

Meadow pipit
Meadow pipit
Wheatear
Wheatear

We first spotted a whinchat perched in a tree before it dropped into the valley, where it remained in view but on and off. Luckily, it eventually came closer, giving me the chance to get some clearer record shots. It is not a rarity here but when you find one it feels special - a small upright bird perched on a post or bush, tail flicking and head alert. The male's striking eyestripe, warm orange breast and delicate white throat make him look like a brushstroke of colour. We later spotted a female which is sutler, softer in tone but just as charismatic. They perched low most of the time but occasionally flitted higher giving better photo opportunity.

They flicked back and forth, snapping up insects, tail bobbing. Their call often alerted us where they had relocated to - a soft "whit" or a slightly scratchy song, blending with the calls from meadow pipits and skylarks. It is good have such glimpses as they visit our shores - they are only here a few months, making the encounters even more special.

In a tree to our right a chiffchaff and a willow warbler called, joining in the chorus.

Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Whinchat
Chiffchaff

We paused by the woods for breakfast and coffee, surrounded by birdsong. As we stood there, it felt surreal that it was still only mid-morning and that we’d already been birding for hours. After a brief wander through the area, and a final look at the cuckoos, we saw a peregrine dash through before we made our way down to the Wyre Forest for our annual visit.

Peregrine
Stonechat

We followed the main track, ears tuned for any of our target forest species, pausing now and then to scan the slopes below. It wasn’t long before we spotted a pied flycatcher perched high in a tree, showing beautifully in the broken light. It lingered for a few minutes before heading off to hunt. Further along, we picked up the call of a tree pipit, that distinctive descending, cascading song. It took some time, but we eventually located it, high in the canopy among the tallest trees as it relocated and exhibited its characteristic parachuting onto its perch. We waited, hoping it might come closer, but no such luck this time.

Tree pipits are summer visitors, and the Wyre Forest is one of the strongholds where they still breed in decent numbers. Their presence here speaks to the quality of the habitat, open woodland with scattered trees, clearings, and sunny rides.

Pied flycatcher
Pied flycatcher
Tree pipit

About a hundred metres along the track, we heard a wood warbler calling from the trees to our right. We spent a good while watching it flit through the branches, pausing often to deliver its distinctive song - what a bird! Last year, we drew a blank here and ended up travelling to Harry's Wood in Northamptonshire, where we were treated to an unforgettable show by an especially bold individual (account here). This one wasn’t quite as showy, but the views were still superb.

Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler
Wood warbler

We dropped down through a glade and picked out a couple more pied flycatchers, this time also seeing a female. We wouldn't wait long as we wanted to get down to the brook and hopefully catch up with some of the dippers.

Pied flycatcher

We spotted dippers in their usual spot, though as ever, they kept their distance - two birds, one of which flew towards us and beneath and passed the bridge we were standing on. We’d heard reports of another pair further along the river and hoped they might offer a closer opportunity for some record shots.

As we continued, something caught our eye on the forest floor, a beetle we didn’t recognise. It turned out to be a green tiger beetle, a first for us. There it was, perched on the bare earth, shimmering with metallic emerald and bronze, long-legged and poised - an unexpected highlight.

Green tiger beetle
Green tiger beetle

As we neared the bridge where we hoped to find the dippers we heard a blackcap, and then a couple of garden warblers. Elusive at first the garden warblers eventually gave themselves up and I managed a photo I was really pleased with.

Garden warbler

As we reached the bridge, we spotted a dipper standing motionless just beyond its edge. Careful not to flush it, I circled around to try for a photo - not bad, I think, though there's always room for improvement. Still, it’s always a joy to see these birds, such stunning little river specialists.

Dipper

We climbed the slope back up to the main track, spotting more pied flycatchers as we went. It had been a fantastic day out - long, but very rewarding. We began the journey home.