With a whole host of goodies
available in East Anglia, we decided to head down to Norfolk and Suffolk for
the weekend, making the long drive down to Kings Lynn on the Friday night ready
to hopefully connect with the confiding Steppe Grey Shrike the following
morning that had taken up residence in a hedge at nearby Burton Norton. Found
the weekend prior, shrikes have a good reputation for sticking around (just
take a look at the much-twitched Masked Shrike at Spurn) so we were pretty
confident it wouldn't be a wasted journey.
Sure enough, the first two
birds on RBA after waking up were the shrike and the Little Crake (our other
target for the day) so we headed to the site in high spirits. As soon as we
arrived at the viewing area we caught up with our target, perched obligingly in
one of the nearby Hawthorn bushes and showing particularly well. It soon became
evident that locals had been scattering mealworms on the freshly turned earth,
as a few minutes later the shrike dropped down and began to take advantage of
the abundance of food, at one point stationing itself on a conveniently place
bramble bush in front of the crowd.
Steppe Grey Shrike in the Hawthorn bush when we arrived |
There was a little confusion
as to exactly the status of Steppe Grey Shrike, and this website illustrates
the taxonomic background with the Lanius genus perfectly. A subspecies of
Southern Grey Shrike (the Iberian race of which I have seen in Spain) Steppe
Grey (pallidirostris) is the only form of Southern Grey Shrike to have occurred in the UK. This
particular form usually occurs in Central Asia, with the last previous record
for Britain being an individual that took up residence in Shropshire back in 2011.
The Shrike quickly moved to this bramble perch |
Satisfied with our views, we
left the shrike to enjoy its mealworm brunch, before heading south to our next
target of the day – the Little Crake that had been fairly regular at RSPB
Minsmere throughout the week. Whilst a long way from Cheshire, Minsmere is a
cracking reserve and I won’t turn down a twitch there – on our last visit we
were lucky to catch up with the Collared Pratincole that had taken a liking to
the pools back in the Summer.
Upon arriving at the hide, we
were told that crake hadn't been seen since 10am, and now, 3 and a half hours
later, we (stupidly!) assumed it was due a trip out of the reeds. And so we
waited…….and waited…..and waited…..
With a false alarm of someone
mistaking a shadow for the crake (?!) and a sighting of an otter or mink
dubiously emerging from the reeds where the crake was last seen, it eventually
became clear that we were fighting a losing battle and as dusk swiftly
approached we had to admit defeat. The distinctive calls of Cetti’s Warblers
and patrolling Marsh Harriers were our only consolation for over 5 depressing
hours spent staring at the same patch of reeds…..
After staying the night in an
amazing hotel that actually turned out to be a Chinese restaurant (with some of
the best Cantonese chicken I've tasted) and early news that the previous
afternoon’s Arctic Warbler was still at Donna Nook, we headed back up North to
try and catch up with the bird (Alex’s random target for the Autumn that I had
all but written off for this year). Luckily the bird was showing well on
arrival, and the mass of scoped and long lenses that greeted us on the reserve
path quickly betrayed the bird’s whereabouts.
We soon locked on to the
warbler, and for the next hour or so enjoying cripplingly close views as the
bird flitted about feeding in the Hawthorn trees running alongside the path –
completely undeterred by its ever increasing crowd of
admirers. Quite a large looking warbler, the ID can be clinched by the long
primary projection and the exceptionally long supercilium which unlike
Greenish, stops short before the bill.
The Arctic Warbler in one of the rare moments it kept still! |
The bird was often obscured in between the branches where it fed on flies. |
After lunch, we strolled round the reserve, on the lookout for any
more migrants lurking undetected in the bushes. After contemplating how the
Arctic Warbler was my 299th species of bird in the UK and wondering
what number 300 would be (I was hoping for a mainland Rubythroat – why not aim
high!) we were greeted with an excited birder exclaiming he had just found a
Radde’s warbler a little further down the path. Following him to the patch of
shrubs he had seen the bird in, excitement began to creep in as after weeks of
speculation as to what number 300 would be and a year long target to achieve
that milestone before the year was out, we were finally there.
Approaching the Blackthorn shrubs where the bird was last seen,
everything was still – no movements or sounds apart from the eerie cries of the
distantly feeding Brent Geese on the adjoining saltmarsh. I waited, baited
breath, my eyes sharp and seeking out any small movements, any tiny flutter of
wings. Then, out of the corner of my eye, a brown bird quickly darted across
the track in to the nearest bush, instantly catching my attention. My
binoculars instinctively raised, I called out to the others to alert them, and
watched as the bird revealed itself to the three of us, perched in full view on
one of the lower branches – an unmistakable Radde’s and my number 300.
The obvious supercilium was plain to see, reaching from the bill and
extending to the back of the nape, slightly diffused before the eye and with a
slight kink to the rear.
The birds prominent supercilium was plain to see, even from a distance |
Annoying piece of grass! |
The bird swiftly disappeared as quickly as it materialised, doing what
Radde’s do best and skulking in the undergrowth – keeping close to the floor (a
more characteristic behaviour of Radde’s than the very similarly marked Dusky
Warbler). As news got out, the Arctic
Warbler was seemingly forgotten as the masses of birders on site got wind of
this find and headed towards where we were viewing, the assembled crowd soon
able to enjoy brief views when the bird made its presence known when flitting
from bush to bush.
The olive back was now clear to see, with a small bronze patch on the
closed wing, and as the bid dashed through the shrubs, the buff/rufous
undertail covets more apparent – another key feature when separating these two
species.
The buff/rufous undertail covets |
As more and more people arrived and being satisfied that I had
captured this personal milestone with some record shots, we left the warbler in
peace, making the journey back West after a satisfying weekend. Not even the
news that the Little Crake had reappeared that day and was showing well –
quashing my theory that it had in fact been eaten by the otter - could spoil it
(what a menace!!!!).