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.

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.

Grafham Water, Ouse Fen, & Summer Leys :: 03 May 2025

It was trickier than usual to settle on a birding location this time, with the lure of a spotted sandpiper in the mix. While it would be a lifer for me, Kev had already seen the individual that turned up at Upton Warren in June 2023. That sighting drew quite a bit of attention, given how rare the species is in the UK - an event I’ve tried hard to forget, having failed to visit myself. The only saving grace is that although they are rare, they are regular.

Fortunately, it is all about me - Kev agreed to humour me. We arrived and decided to make our way round to the north end of Grafham Water, parking on the grass verge as the car park by the Visitor Centre doesn't open until 9.30/10.00am. Grafham Water is England's third-largest reservoir and a designated Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI). The western end of the reservoir is managed as a nature reserve by the Wildlife Trust for Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire, and Northamptonshire. The bird had been frequenting this area and been showing fantastically well.

I was especially keen as the bird was in breeding plumage where it has bold black spots on the underparts, the only sandpiper with this - out of breeding plumage it lacks the spots, and with plain underparts can resemble a common sandpiper - in fact the two are considered sister species.

They breed across North America, from Alaska and Canada to the northern U.S., migrating to winter in Central and South America. UK sightings often coincide with post-breeding dispersal or storm-driven drift across the Atlantic - usually there are 1–5 birds per year, though some years may have none - the estimated total UK records are circa 250–300.

We reached the concrete dam wall and met three birders coming the other way who confirmed the bird was still present. As we approached, we spotted it alongside three common sandpipers, which, as it turned out, wasn’t ideal. Earlier, the spotted sandpiper had been showing well, but now that it had joined the common sandpipers, it had become much more flighty, mirroring their skittish behaviour.

As we edged closer, the group took off, heading toward the valve tower, with the Spotted Sandpiper second in the formation. Kev decided to stay put, content to watch through his scope, while I made my way around to the valve tower for another attempt.

By the time I arrived, the bird had already been flushed further along the shoreline, and as I followed, birders inadvertently pushed it on again. Eventually, I caught up with the group and managed to get a decent view and a few photos before they took off once more. We relocated them right at the end of the concrete dam wall, almost exactly where Kev and I had originally planned to park but before long, they were gone again, heading back up the reservoir. I followed, and each time I approached, they flushed further along. I passed the valve tower and watched as the four amigos headed well out across the water. Kev later told me the spotted sandpiper had peeled away from the group and flown over to the grassy edge near Plummer Park Car Park on the southern shore.

I made my way back to Kev, who was waiting patiently on the far shore. While I’d been off chasing the bird, he’d picked up dunlin and a sanderling, plus had scoped some nice views of the spotted sandpiper. We’d already agreed that once this target was in the bag, we’d head over to RSPB Ouse Fen for the great reed warbler. It’s a cracking site that nearly always throws up something interesting, and the warbler itself is a real treat, especially when it's in full song.

The song of the great reed warbler is one of the loudest and most distinctive among European warblers, often described as "mechanical" or "machine-like"; a common description might be "KRAAK-kraak-kraak tik tik tik churrr churrr chack chack chack" - a mix of grating croaks, buzzes, clicks, and flute-like notes. The song, performed by males to defend territory and attract a mate, will sadly go unanswered, just as it has in recent years - this is a returning bird. Typically, the song is delivered from tall reeds, especially during the spring and early summer months.

We arrived at RSPB Ouse Fen and made our way round to where groups of people were gathered, apparently a pair of red-footed falcons were feeding above a distant wood. We saw four bitterns wheeling in the sky to the left of the woods and I took a record shot. It wouldn't be the last bittern we saw but all would be quite distant.

We spent time watching the red-footed falcons feeding with a handful of hobbies. Unfortunately, the red-foots were always too distant for a photo but we had some good views through the scopes, particularly of the female.

We reluctantly pulled ourselves away and set off in search of the warbler, hearing its song well before we caught sight of it. At first, it was visible but mostly hidden behind the dense reeds. Before long, though, gusts of wind parted the stems just enough to give us a partial but satisfying view of the bird.

We were debating our next move when news came through that two wood sandpipers had been reported at Wildlife BCN Summer Leys, almost directly on our route home. Wood sandpipers are scarce but regular passage migrants in the UK, with a few hundred individuals typically recorded each year. These elegant, medium-sized waders breed in northern Europe and Asia, using the UK as a stopover during their spring and autumn migrations.

It felt like the perfect opportunity to add one to our year lists, so we headed there. On arrival, a birder mentioned that one of the birds had seemingly flown off earlier, and the other hadn’t been seen for about an hour - not exactly encouraging.

We made our way to the Pioneer Hide overlooking the scrape, and before long, we had a wood sandpiper in view. Hoping for a closer look, we moved to the Paul Britten (Double Decker) Hide and relocated the bird.

At first, it was picking its way through short reeds, partially obscured, but eventually it stepped out into the open long enough for us to grab a few record shots.

There were large numbers of redshanks around, including a male that was displaying to a female - quite a racket! A few little ringed plovers darted around the scrape and three yellow wagtails dropped in.

We had heard the call of a cuckoo for much of the time we were there and eventually we picked it out, perched high in a distant tree. Not long after we were treated to swifts and hobbies darting across the scrape in search of flies and dragonflies - most entertaining.

After we'd had our fill, we followed the track around to see if we could get a better view of the terns fishing at the far end of the main water body. We were quietly hoping for a late Arctic or perhaps a black tern, but all the birds on show appeared to be commons.

Glancing back from near the feeding station, we noticed a commotion - plenty of Redshanks dashing about, and a couple of little ringed plovers tucked in among them. Then, out of nowhere, a handful of birds dropped in, and to our surprise, we realised there were now three wood sandpipers foraging together.

We had a look on Mary's Lake but found the same birds present. We made our way back to the car and home - there seem to be quite a few red-footed falcons in the country - maybe we will catch up with another and get better views?

Year list: 198.