Least Sandpiper - Lodmoor RSPB, Dorset!

With a juvenile Least Sandpiper making an appearance down at Lodmoor RSPB in Dorset and staying on throughout the week, it would have been rude not to pay a visit, especially as it would be a new addition to our British lists. Unfortunately two back to back leaving parties meant Sunday was the only free day to travel down, and with Alex agreeing to wait a day we made the mammoth journey down south in an attempt to connect with this transatlantic vagrant. 

The Least Sand! 

With news coming out early in the morning and with the Least Sandpiper already having been in residence on the Dorset scrapes for a week, we were relatively certain it would hang on for the remainder of the day. Sure enough. pulling up in the car park 4 and a bit hours later (via several closed road diversions - it turns out a local Ironman Triathlon was taking place right on the roads surrounding Lodmoor RSPB and rendering them impassable!) we were met with the alert going off to signal the Least Sand was thankfully still showing from the viewing platform.

Navigating the many fences, bikes and lycra clad runners that the triathlon had brought with it, we eventually made it on to the reserve, and after a quick check around the shallow scrapes and pools we were soon watching this dainty American wader. 

The Least Sandpiper tended to loosely associate with a small flock of Dunlin as well as the Little Stint

Lodmoor RSPB

Extremely small in size and helpfully accompanying a Little Stint for comparison, once you got your eye in it was relatively easy to pick out as it foraged through the mud – the slightly more russet tones and light green legs of the Least Sandpiper standing out from the much paler Little Stint, as well as its slightly smaller size.

Least Sandpiper on the left and Little Stint on the right - note the paler colouration of the Little Stint and the stronger markings

Having seen Least Sandpipers during our trip to Florida the previous spring this was our first individual on British soil (mud?!) and it was great to finally catch up with one after the showy Devon bird last year prematurely departed before we could organise a weekend visit. With no sign yesterday evening or this morning, it seems the Lodmoor bird has also finally departed – thankfully it stayed until the Sunday for us! 

The south east corner where the Least Sandpiper favoured

A less than annual visitor to UK shores, the Dorset bird (also being a first for the county) is just the 40th record for Britain, and is one of a long line of American waders to recently make landfall in the South West, alongside a strong supporting cast of Stilt, Buff-breasted, Spotted and Baird’s Sandpipers.

Alex's video of the Dorset Least Sandpiper

The dubious of origin drake Hooded Merganser at nearby Radipole Lake - luckily I've already seen a legit female in Gloucestershire! 

After a quick stop at nearby Radipole Lake on the way home to get my very first glimpses of the notorious drake Hooded Merganser that now resides there (of slightly dubious origin and unfortunately in eclipse plumage), we braved the M5 closure traffic and the 2 hour detour that came with it, heading home happy that we had made the effort to travel down south. With just Upland Sandpiper the missing piece of the jigsaw in terms of the sandpiper family on my British list, here’s hoping one makes landfall soon – preferably in the North West!

Black-billed Cuckoo on North Uist - MEGA!!!!

Come the evening of Sunday 22^nd May I don’t know what blew my mind more – the fact that the Birdguides app mega alert sound was in fact the call of a Black-billed Cuckoo (check out Xeno Canto for those that don’t know!) or the fact that there was an actual Black-billed Cuckoo sat on a fence in far-away North Uist, happily feeding on caterpillars and being twitched by a handful of very lucky birders! The photographs that soon surfaced showing a fine, healthy, pristine spring adult gobbling juicy green caterpillars were even more mind blowing.

The Uist Black-billed Cuckoo - an absolutely crazy record!

Before now, all previous records of Black-billed Cuckoo in Britain have been of autumn juveniles, each having the same sad glimmer of despair in the eyes and resigned to the inevitable fate that was waiting for them here on this side of the Atlantic – none have lasted longer than 3 days, with American cuckoos being notorious for perishing after making the crossing. Turning up in Britain it seems results in certain death as far as Coccyzus cuckoos are concerned.

With news breaking late on the Sunday night, the chances of it sticking until the following weekend, especially going on the past unfortunate history of this species, may have at first glance appeared extremely slim and approaching zero. This bird however was unchartered territory – never before had a spring individual made it across to these shores, and certainly not a healthy adult. Could it do the unthinkable and stick around for a whole week? Surely not….

As the days slowly ticked by the news remained positive - each day boat and plane loads of birders happily connected and reported the bird as still present and showing well. Plans started to form, and with confirmation that the cuckoo was still in its favoured gardens come Friday morning, I sprang into action and hastily booked us some accommodation for our trip. An overnight stop in Fort William would break up the daunting 9 hour drive after work, with the last 2 ¾ hours to our ferry at Uig on Skye undertaken the following morning. Seemingly simple?

Things started to unravel as we neared Glasgow. An ominous silence on the Cuckoo’s whereabouts since near midday was broken by negative news late on in the evening – the bird hadn’t been seen all afternoon and was last reported as “disappearing over the top of a hill”. This was not good. As another birder had put it, a bird seemingly ‘doing one’ over the top of a hill has never resulted in anything positive when twitching is concerned! Never the less, we ploughed on to Fort William, dodging deer on the way and feeling somewhat disheartened at the fact we were seemingly driving towards a dip.

The heart-stopping Birdguides report whilst driving up through Glasgow! 

After a much needed night’s sleep in the Travelodge I came out of the shower to be met with the welcome news that the cuckoo was back in the gardens…. twitch on! It transpired that the previous report had been slightly lost in translation, as the bird had simply dropped down in to vegetation between the two houses on the slope and had disappeared from view – not flying away over a hill as we had all feared!

Fort William

Luckily, we decided to leave the Travelodge that morning with the aim of getting to the ferry terminal at Uig in good time – 2 hours early to be precise. This proved to be one of the best decisions we’d ever made, as arriving at Mallaig ferry terminal after an hour’s drive, the devastating reality dawned on us – the sat-nav had planned the route to Skye via a small island ferry crossing at Mallaig instead of over the bridge at the Kyle of Lochalsh. This was a disaster, and I’ve never felt more crushed on a twitch (not even the time when we actually dipped the Yellow-billed Cuckoo in Cornwall after a 7 hour drive through the night). With the next Mallaig ferry not until after 11am and only being offered a standby place, we were well and truly stuck. We were now over an hour away from where we had started off this morning at Fort William, with a further 2 ¾ hours on top of that, and time was fast slipping away. After coming all this way it seemed we had fallen at the final hurdle – we simply weren’t going to make it.

With no guaranteed place on the crossing we made the decision to try and get to Uig – last boarding was at 1:30pm and our sat navs arrival time predicted 1:52pm – a huge feat to try and make up half an hour on the winding mountain roads complete with their caravan induced tailbacks. With Alex driving like an absolute hero and watching our arrival time get steadily shorter, as I eyed the sat-nav dial move down to 1:37pm I started to think we might be in with a chance…..

Remarkably, we eventually made it to Uig at 1:24pm, although no ferry in sight as we were driving down the hill towards the pier convinced me we had somehow come to the wrong port in the absolute cruellest twist of fate – had we messed up again?! We were relieved therefore to pull in to the terminal and be met with a jumble of birders, scopes and tripods. Relief took over – we had somehow made it!

In a sheer stroke of luck, the ferry had been delayed from its departure on Uist and wasn’t due in until quarter to 2, allowing us plenty of time to purchase our tickets, park, unload the car and somehow be one of the first ones on board!

Enjoying the ferry crossing, we were finally able to relax and take in the beautiful scenery and wildlife that Scotland has to offer. A pair of Golden Eagles drifted distantly over the hillside, while a White-tailed Eagle eyrie on the distant Skye cliffs was just about visible through binoculars. Several Black Guillemots – one of my favourite birds – joined the other auks during the crossing, while the occasional summer plumaged Great Northern Divers showed off their spectacular black and white patterns. Two Arctic Skuas bombed past the side of the boat, while both Harbour Porpoises and a distant pod of Bottlenose Dolphins kept us entertained as they took advantage of the rich pickings the Scottish seas produce food wise.  

With Dan Pointon getting word that the cuckoo was still present during the 2 hour journey across, once we had docked into Lochmaddy there was a mad scramble to pick up hire cars. With the ferry fully booked for cars on the Saturday sailings seemingly weeks in advance, the majority of birders (us included) were foot passengers, and we were thankfully offered a lift around the island by local Marbury birder Mal and his wife – life savers and we were eternally grateful!

15 minutes later we were on site and the search was on. The cuckoo had apparently disappeared an hour earlier in the gardens down the hill and had yet to be located, and as more and more birders arrived we spread out and covered the surrounding area. Having favoured the same couple of gardens since its arrival a week earlier, the cuckoo had recently become a lot more mobile over the last couple of days, ranging across Loch Sandary in to a number of gardens. With absolutely glorious weather on Uist I was soon regretting wearing my woolly walking boots and thick coat as the sun beat down – for an island up on the northern edges of Britain it was surprisingly warm!

As the time passed there was still a sense of optimism that the cuckoo would be found – it was undoubtedly still in the area and with around 40 or so birders looking it was only a matter of time before someone located it. Serenaded by a soundtrack of the rasping notes of Corncrakes hiding deep in the Irises and with several Common Cuckoos calling and making occasional flights harassed by a mob of Meadow Pipits, after around an hours searching, Alex suddenly pointed ahead of us – “Look, what’s that flying towards us?!”.

It was of course, the cuckoo - flying straight ahead of us and attempting to land on the roof of a nearby house before doubling back and diving straight in to a thick patch of scrub. Familiar with Coccyzus cuckoos in flight after seeing Yellow-billed in America, we knew instantly that we had our prize.   

Immediately getting the attention of the birders nearby and shouting over that we had it, word soon spread, and before long a steady stream of birders could be seen sprinting up the track, hoping to get a glimpse of this most magical of birds.
     

Happy twitchers!

Showing well for the next 45 minutes or so, everyone present was able to enjoy fantastic views of this almost mythical American vagrant as it flitted between the houses and patches of vegetation in the immediate area, perching obligingly at the top of bushes and fence posts and allowing us all to get stunning views of that deep dark curved bill and striking crimson eye ring.    

Relatively mobile and constantly being harassed by a pair of Meadow Pipits, the cuckoo eventually dropped down in to a large bush and out of sight. It was easy to see how the bird could get lost in this remote habitat for long periods of time, and without large numbers of birders searching the area it could easily go undetected.  

The gardens the cuckoo was favouring

With the cuckoo off show and with everyone ecstatic about connecting with this truly monstrous bird (some birders even cracked open bottles of Malt Whisky on site to celebrate) we headed back to our accommodation for the evening, taking in the beautiful surroundings that North Uist has to offer and elated that we had managed to pull off what was a truly epic twitch. 

The view from our accommodation - gorgeous!

With just 15 records in the UK to date, Black-billed Cuckoo is one of those birds that has a near mythical status on British birders lists. With the fact that individuals rarely last more than a day and with no records in the last 25 years bar an individual seen briefly by a handful of people on Orkney back in 2014, this was a species that no one expected to get on their lists any time soon – and most certainly not this spring! Long gone are the heydays of the 80’s (when remarkably four in one year were recorded in 1982) and coupled with an apparent decline of this species in their natural range in America, the prospects of Black-billed Cuckoo occurring in Britain, let alone being twitchable, looked increasingly bleak.

The eventual stay of 10 days by the North Uist Black-billed Cuckoo before its apparent departure on the following Wednesday also finally put to bed the rumours that have long been doing the rounds that British caterpillars are toxic to American cuckoos (and are the cause of death after they make it over here). Rather, it is far more likely that autumn juveniles just cannot cope with the Atlantic crossing (often in huge debilitating storms) and simply succumb to exhaustion or lack of food. The fact that the Uist bird was an adult,  as well as there perhaps being a greater abundance of caterpillars in the spring compared to the autumn may have set it apart from the rest and ensured its chance of survival.

Another mystery is when and exactly where the cuckoo arrived this side of the Atlantic. While it is possible that it made its way across this spring and made landfall straight on North Uist, there is an alternative scenario that it instead arrived on the back of the huge autumnal storms last October somewhere else in Europe or in Africa, before overwintering on the continent and making a parallel migration north once May approached. Regardless of its arrival, this was an absolutely phenomenal bird that I for one certainly didn’t expect to be seeing any time soon!

Seconds after I took the top photo, Alex spotted an Otter in the exact spot! The small brown squiggle under the gull may quite possibly be it!

Despite the huge distance up to Uist (Alex heroically did all the driving single-handedly) I always find island twitches to be some of the most enjoyable. The incredibly scenery and wildlife in Scotland (I even saw my first wild Otter) is always a joy to behold, and we both had a fantastic and enjoyable weekend twitching a bird that is sure to live on in the memory for years to come. As they say – he who dares, wins – and we most certainly did on this occasion.

Alex's video of the Black-billed Cuckoo in all it's glory!

Mega!! White-crowned Sparrow at Woolston Eyes, Cheshire!

"Woolston Eyes – White-crowned Sparrow trapped and ringed, access will be arranged soon."

Still lazing in bed on the Saturday morning, the above email message from Paul Brewster at just before quarter past 9 soon had me leaping in to action! White-crowned Sparrow in Cheshire?! – Mega!! Just over 20 minutes away from my house, this was a huge bird for Cheshire, not to mention Britain, with just 5 previous records on these shores. With well twitched individuals such as the Seaforth bird back in October 1995 and the long staying Cley bird in 2008, this was a much needed species for the more recent listers, and not having been actively twitching 8 years ago, this was definitely a must-see bird, especially being so close to home.

David Bowman's lovely photos of the White-crowned Sparrow in the hand

With the sparrow having been released near the feeders at John Morgan hide and access hastily arranged for non-permit holders, I arranged to meet Alex on site at just before 11 – having been out on the Clwyd this was the earliest he could make it. Initially sceptical as to whether we would be able to connect (trapped and ringed birds often have a habit of completely vanishing once released) and with no further sign by 9:50am, the news at just after half 10 that it was back and showing well by the feeders came as a welcome surprise – maybe we would score after all!

Having duly paid our £2 to gain access in to the reserve and hurrying over to the hide in question, our hopes of this attractive American sparrow happily feeding on a mass of golden seed under the feeders and performing well for a crowd of admirers were soon dashed – the bird had apparently gone in to hiding in a large thicket of bush to the left hand side of the hide, and despite being just metres away from the assembled birders, had been impossible to locate for well over an hour. In fact, it later transpired that it was only spotted when two birders had walked in to the bush to ascertain whether it was still there or not, and the bird had flown on to a nearby branch.

Joining the swelling crowd and enduring frequent showers of heavy rain and hail, we kept our eyes focused on the bush the sparrow had last been seen in, willing it to make a reappearance and to get a glimpse of a flash of white from inside the thicket. Moving away from the shelter of the hide and further around the spot where the sparrow was last seen, it soon became clear that there was no movement amongst the bottom branches or the leaf litter – the White-crowned Sparrow most definitely wasn’t under there. Whilst everyone else was staring transfixed on the spot, I decided to scan the surrounding bushes just in case the sparrow had taken an escape route undetected. Turning my attention to the next bush across, I immediately clocked several Blackcaps and Robins feeding amongst the hawthorn, while a Chiffchaff flitted in-between the leaves.

The trees where the White-crowned Sparrow was hiding!

Then, a small brown and grey bird sat in the join of a branch soon caught my eye. Its head slightly obscured by the tangle of Hawthorn leaves, it was hard to pick out – could it be a Dunnock? Grey and black striped facial markings as the bird moved its head convinced me otherwise, and as it hopped down to a lower branch and out of view, a prominent white wing bar (looking like a string of pearls) became obvious. This looked increasingly good - although never having seen one before and with the crown partially obscured, I wasn’t 100% sure. Alerting Alex to get on the spot whilst checking my Collin’s app for the finer features of White-crowned Sparrow ID, Alex soon called out he had it – the bird had reappeared and settled on a branch for a matter of seconds before dropping down again – just long enough for Alex and several other nearby birders to get on it and get views of the white crown, confirming my suspicions. Fantastic!! White-crowned Sparrow in the bag!!

The finer points of White-crowned Sparrow ID!

With many birders yet to get on it but with our sparrow seemingly vanishing in to thin air, despite further vigils staring in to the bush, many left disappointed, and with no further sign throughout the afternoon and in to the next day, our sighting was seemingly the last of this trans-Atlantic vagrant. Incredibly jammy to say the least.

The bush the sparrow disappeared into

With the White-crowned sparrow most likely to have found its way over to Britain last autumn during the storms, or perhaps even elsewhere in Europe, the arrival at Woolston Eyes could well have been the result of a natural parallel migration north - American birds would also be heading north at this time of year in their normal range. The fact that the ringers reported that it appeared to be in a good condition when captured with plenty of muscle mass (as well as there being no particularly adverse weather during the spring originating from across the Atlantic) would support this theory, while a first summer Rose-breasted Grosbeak found yesterday on a feeder in Shetland only adds further weight to this - presumably another parallel migrant on the wrong side of the ocean.

White-crowned Sparrow was actually one of the American sparrow species we had missed on both of our visits to the states, so it was a stroke of luck and completely unexpected to be getting it as a lifer here in Britain! With lengthy gaps between records, it could be some time yet before Britain scores another, especially one minutes away from my house, so we both felt extremely fortunate to see it – albeit briefly – and it was refreshing to get our first mega of 2016. Woolston Eyes was also a fantastic reserve to visit, and with this only being my second visit (the first was for an escaped Bufflehead last year), I may well look in to investing in a permit for future trips. 

Greater Yellowlegs - Titchfield Haven in Hampshire

When news broke of a Greater Yellowlegs at Titchfield Haven down in Hampshire at the beginning of the year, I was all the way up in Scotland having just been watching the Harlequin duck on the river Don, with no feasible way of getting down there! With no sign the following day, it was assumed this would be a one day wonder – no one could have predicted that exactly 3 months later to the date it would reappear in the same place, incredibly while I was up in Scotland again having just been watching Ptarmigans, Crested Tits and Capercaillies! Again, with no feasible way of getting down to Hampshire and the bird disappearing the following day, it wasn’t until a week or so later that it reappeared, when work and various other factors prevented us from connecting.

Luckily, I was awake bright and early when news broke for the fourth time this year that the bird had returned to Titchfield, remarkably on the same flooded field where it was first found, and after an hour or so we were well on our way down south hoping to connect with this beautiful American wader.

Arriving at the small car park next to the public footpath on Bridge Street, we made the short walk through the gorgeous fields and along the canal, serenaded by the calling calls of Cuckoos and Cetti’s Warblers whilst trout splashed in the clear water next to us. Eventually reaching Posbrook Floods, (the flooded field in question that the Greater Yellowlegs was favouring), we joined the small crowd of birders and immediately got our scopes on this rare American vagrant. Originally dozing quite distantly with a flock of Black-tailed Godwits, after a while it thankfully awoke, probing around in the vegetation and wading through the water in search of small morsels to feed on.

Flying considerably closer to join the nearer Godwit flock, we could really see the beautiful speckled plumage in much better detail, and as it waded through the water the bright golden legs were exceptionally obvious.

Superficially very similar to the more frequently recorded Lesser Yellowlegs, there are various subtle differences to aid identification between the two. When in mixed flocks the obvious size difference is an easy way to tell the two apart, but solitary birds can be considerably more difficult to determine, with bill size and structure the main feature to look out for. The bill on the Greater Yellowlegs is considerably longer, being roughly 1 and ½ times the length of the head, whilst the bill of the Lesser is just barely longer than the head. The Greater Yellowlegs’ bill is also quite blunt-tipped and slightly upturned compared to the straighter, sharp pointed bill of its smaller cousin. The underparts are also a good feature to make a note of, with Greater Yellowlegs having more extensive dark barring as opposed to the plainer underparts of the Lesser.

The barring on the underparts is obvious

Watching contently for a while, the Yellowlegs then remarkably flew right in front of the assembled crowd to the edge of the pool, giving excellent views to the 20 or so people there (the majority of birders in the country had evidently already connected on one of its previous 3 visits!) We could really admire the subtly beautiful patterns on the feathers and the egg-yolk coloured legs up close, and the bird happily made its diagnostic call on several occasions for us to hear – 3-4 high pitched piercing notes. This is also a very reliable way to tell the two species apart, with Lesser Yellowlegs making a short, rapid, 2 note whistling call that is much softer.

Posbrook Flood, Titchfield Haven

With just under 50 records of Greater Yellowlegs in the UK - the last one being the well twitched individual that overwintered back in 2011/12 in Northumberland, the Loch of Strathbeg and various points in the Highlands of Scotland - it was great to finally catch up with the rarer of the two Yellowlegs, having only seen my first Lesser in Buckinghamshire only a year earlier last spring.

Going missing for such long periods, it’s clear that this American vagrant is spending its time elsewhere in the vicinity that just isn’t being birded, either on the river Meon, on a private pool somewhere or simply out of sight on one of the lagoons at Titchfield. Either way, it’s been something of a mystery - I’m just glad it gave us a second (or fourth!) chance to connect!

The Yellowlegs with Godwits - the large size of the bird is apparent

With a Bonaparte’s gull showing well nearby in Southampton, we spent the rest of the day trying to locate it, first at Chessel Bay then on to Riverside Park near the Cobden Bridge. Unfortunately, there were only Black-headed Gulls present for the afternoon, and it wasn’t until half an hour later when we were enjoying a delicious meal of Crispy Mongolian Lamb and Chilli fried Chicken at one of my favourite restaurants in Southampton, the news came out that it was showing well on the jetty! Bad timing or what! Hopefully another North West bird will make an appearance soon that I can catch up with!!

Hudsonian Godwit - Meare Heath, Somerset!

Hoping to catch up with the Blue-winged Teal at Donna Nook for Zac and Alex, I was awake bright and early on the Saturday morning, ready to make the 3 hour journey over to Lincolnshire with them. However, checking my phone after breakfast, I was stunned to see a MEGA alert at 7:30am telling me there was a Hudsonian Godwit present down at Meare Heath in Somerset!!! What on earth?!! All thoughts of the teal were hastily forgotten, and by 9am just after the report was confirmed again on Birdguides we were on our way down the M6 hoping to connect with this special American mega!

Making good time and luckily not becoming ensnared in any of the previous night’s congestion, we arrived on site just after 12, buoyed by the stream of reports coming through twitter and on RBA to reassure us of the birds presence and thankful that there were enough car parking spaces in the newly built car park to hold the masses that would be arriving throughout the day. Special thanks to Alex who got us there in good time, complete with dodgy overtaking moves along the way!

Arriving at the small flash just a short walk down the path from the car park, the birds location was soon betrayed by the absolutely HUGE line of birders assembled along the path watching it – one of the biggest twitches I’ve been at to date – perhaps only behind the Short-toed Eagle in Dorset on the first morning and the Little Bustard at Fraisthorpe on New Year’s Day.  

The crowds stretched all down the path...

....and down the other side!

We joined the 400 or so others and soon locked on to the bird, looking extremely settled and roosting happily with the Black-tailed Godwits just over the bank. It was immediately recognisable though the scope – much darker than the accompanying Godwits with a more dusky coloured plumage due to the heavy barring -  a lot more distinctive than I’d anticipated and easily distinguishable! Occasionally it awoke, showing the long two toned bill briefly, before tucking it away underneath the wing again. It was EXTREMELY fortunate that this hadn’t turned up where viewing was only from a hide – I can only imagine the sheer chaos and pandemonium a scenario like that would have caused!

Eventually, our rare visitor awoke, and wading through the flock the differences in comparison to the Black-tailed Godwits were even more striking. The fractionally smaller body and longer bill were evident, the latter of which was distinctly orange toned, completely different to the pinkish wash of the Black-tailed Godwits. 

Every now and again the Hudsonian would flap and flick it’s wings revealing the jet black colouration underneath– the key identifying feature – and the crowd reacted with admiring “ooohs” every time! An aberrant Black-tailed Godwit with a particularly well marked white head got pulses racing back in 2012 at the local Frodsham Marsh, although after some speculation, the white underwing covets seen the next day completely ruled out Hudsonian even though the head and bill looked spot on – proving just how vital getting good views of the underwings is in nailing this species.

Alex's video grab of the black underwings!

The barring on the plumage was really apparent

The Hudsonian departed from the reserve shortly after 4pm with a third of the flock of Godwits, and flying off high to the west there was no sign since that day – a great surprise for the weekend. This mega American wader was definitely NOT on my radar and was most certainly not a bird that I was expecting to see any time soon – it just goes to show in the world of birding that all it takes is one bird to unexpectedly unblock a species not seen in Britain for nearly 30 years. Thankfully the stars aligned this weekend to provide the perfect twitch – if it had turned up on a weekday then it would have been an entirely different scenario for many filled with stress and panic! The bird had actually previously been spotted the evening before roosting with the Godwit flock, but it wasn’t until early the next morning that the observer clinched the ID and alerted the masses!

The darker colouration stood out even from a distance

There have only been two previous records of Hudsonian Godwit accepted in the UK, usually found in Central America on migration and only occasionally making it over this side of the Atlantic.  With the most recent being a flyover record in Aberdeenshire back in 1988, the only other bird was a well twitched individual that was first found at Blacktoft Sands in Yorkshire in the autumn of 1981, before being relocated down in Devon where it subsequently spent the winter. Remarkably, the same individual was seen again back at Blacktoft a year later in the spring of 1983! With this in mind, there is every chance that the Godwit could get refound elsewhere in the country.

The reserve itself was a great place to spend the afternoon, with a calling Wood Warbler near the car park and brief views of a skulky Garden Warbler in the Hawthorns lining the path – its location given away by the beautiful melodious song coming from between the leaves. A Bittern booming in the reeds behind us provided the perfect soundtrack, and the soaring Marsh Harriers, Hobbies and chattering Cetti’s Warblers were my first of the year. We also caught sight of two Cranes circling high overhead -  a reminder of the success of the Great Crane Reintroduction Project in the levels, as well as numerous flyover Great White Egrets – surely a sign of breeding on the reserve again this year. With the breeding Little Bitterns at Ham Wall, it will be great to return to this fantastic little reserve again in the summer months.