At Last but Definitely Least! Friday 3rd January 2025

Somerset Wizardry! 2nd January 2025

Greylake sounds like a place where wizards would want to be seen, and a place where it might be good to see a wizard. Of a sort anyway.

We were last at the RSPB reserve at Greylake, set deep in the Somerset Levels and within view of the mystical Glastonbury Tor, at least it would be if it hadn't been so misty, to twitch a Baikal Teal. The rare duck species from Siberian climes had appeared agin this winter but had been much less reliable in its appearances. I hadn't come to purposely see the Teal anyway but obviously would happily take it if offered. I was mostly wanting an encounter with a little wizard of a bird, a female Merlin that had been gracing the wetlands for a month or more and which was offering superb opportunities to anybody, like me, who wanted to get some decent photos of a species that is usually tricky to observe at close quarters.

The fact that the carpark was rammed was proof to the Merlin's appeal. We had to wait for a few minutes for someone to vacate a space. I had feared that it would be busy. These days, any bird that shows well is popular, especially amongst bird photographers. Often I feel as if it's an odd craze to take photos of birds, particularly when multiple lenses are aimed at the same subject and everyone is getting the same shots. But it is harmless. Definitely a bit mad though. 

The two small hides were also busy. In the first, an enclosed structure with a roof, door and windows there was nowhere to sit, or even stand where a view out was possible. The banks of Toggers had taken over all the prime seats and I half expected there to be the Prime Minister or a famous celebrity out on the marsh, smiling and waving at them. But of course although there was a celebrity, it was of the avian variety, and everybody wanted to see her. Mrs Caley did find a seat, graciously given up, but I remained at the back of the hide and unable to see anything much at all. I pondered while I'd bothered to come all this way just to look at the back of the peoples heads. My promise to be more cheerful this year was already being tested and the year was less than thirty-six hours old!

It wasn't too long before I suggested to Mrs Caley that we move to the other hide at the end of a short boardwalk. There was room there so at last I was able to look out and see what was around. The trade off was that this hide is an open structure and the chilly wind blew straight through it. Luckily we were well aware of the current wintry conditions so had dressed accordingly. Even so, it was mighty cold. This hide gives almost exactly the same views of the marshes but is slightly elevated which I think is better for seeing the birds but maybe less good if you want eye-level photography. It was from this hide that we saw the Baikal Teal back at the end of 2023. I checked through the ducks but there was no sign of it this time. I guess it must be feeding further out on the levels in some hidden spot with the main Teal flock since there were relatively few of those out there. There were Wigeon aplenty and a small flock of Pintail. Of course, everything was new for the year so all species, whether common such as Mallard and Mute Swan or scarce like the ringtail Hen Harrier that flew distantly across the reserve were eagerly logged. My camera stayed holstered except to take a couple of photos of a Lapwing that ventured close to the hide.

Lapwing

We had been ensconced in the tiny wooden structure for almost an hour when the eagle-eyed birder who had earlier spotted the Hen Harrier, announced that there was a Merlin bombing across. I locked on to it quickly but was surprised to see a male flying past, rather than the expected female. It was pursued by a small squadron of small birds, probably Meadow Pipits. Unfortunately it didn't stop until it reached a distant gate, way out of range of my lens. The scope allowed for better views and it was evident that the Merlin was tucking into a late breakfast, likely one of the Pipits mates.

Merlin (male)

The same chap, clearly accustomed to the comings and goings at the reserve, then announced that there was another Merlin. This time it was the female. She was stood on the top of a pollarded willow tree, much closer than the male was but still way too far out. Over the past month or so I'd seen lots of closeup shots of this bird so I was hopeful that she was merely keeping a lookout from the willow and would soon fly onto the marsh and show much better. For now though I was delighted to have seen two Merlins and a Hen Harrier this early in the year. Both species can be tricky to find and are very scarce in Oxfordshire.

Merlin (female)

Our luck held. After fifteen minutes of standing sentry at the top of the willow, the female Merlin became animated again. Firstly she preened for a while then shifted to another willow. From there she suddenly launched into the air and flew right across the marsh, scattering everything in her path, including the Wigeon, even though they're clearly too big for a Merlin to tackle. I guess that the Merlin was trying to surprise any small bird that was busy feeding in the reeds or grasses. I later learned that she had perfected a low level assault on the Common Snipe and that they were her targets. The flight path and been direct and extremely fast. Too quick for me to capture. She'd completed her short flight before I even had time to lift the camera!

The Merlin had touched down, empty taloned just thirty metres or so away from the hide. Cameras all round went into overdrive. She was perched with her back to us but that allowed a good appreciation of the almost chocolate-brown coloured upper parts and the light beige barring on the tail. When the Merlin turned its head to one side, the keen black eye and small hooked grey bill illustrated, along with those talons, why this bird is a lean mean killing machine, albeit a pretty looking one.

A shift to the left by the Merlin exhibited the rich rufous streaking to the underparts and a full view of the pale yellow talons. I had never seen a female Merlin so well in all my years of birding and I now understood why this bird had proved so popular amongst birders and photographers. A chance to get a view like this of this beautiful little bird may never come around again. 

The Merlin flew a short way to another of the vegetated bunds. I tried to capture it in flight but it was just too quick. All I managed to get a just about acceptable rear view shot of the wings and tails spread, as the bird alighted.

I cast my gaze to other birds on view, adding to the New Year list with almost every species seen. Generally, compared to our visit at the end of 2023, when we did see the ultra-rare Baikal Teal, the reserve was fairly quiet with only small numbers of birds present. We did see a Peregrine, a few Marsh Harriers, and a day-flying Barn Owl.

We could hear Bearded Tits pinging somewhere in the reedbed. We had heard some earlier too, but couldn't find them. We haven't had much luck with Beardies in recent years. Our last decent encounter with the species was nearby at Westhay Moor when we watched a whole flock taking grit offered. When a male presented itself at the top of a reed stem just a few metres from where the Merlin was stood, I feared for its, and the rest of its flock, lives. The Merlin was unmoved though. My attempts to photograph the brief appearance by the Bearded Tit failed miserably.

It was lunchtime so we walked back to the car to retrieve our expensive, but still cheaper than a cafe or pub, sandwich meal deal. For no reason whatsoever, we chose to go the long way around via the nature trail and ended up wading through ankle deep water for most of the way. I checked my phone and was staggered to see a report of a possible Least Sandpiper, and it was supposedly at Steart Marshes, just half an hour away from where we stood! Least Sandpiper is the smallest of all of the world's wading bird species and one that I obviously wanted to see. However, this was January, and I wondered why such a bird would be in the UK at this time. October yes, but surely not January. For the next half hour or so I checked various WhatsApp groups and Twitter but there was no more news of the bird. I then allowed my inherent cynicism to take over and foolishly (as it worked out later) dismissed the report as a misidentification. So after our lunch we headed back out onto the reserve, hoping to see some more Bearded Tits since a chap had told us that he'd been watching some taking grit from the path close to the hides.

An hour later we hadn't seen any of the pinging Reedlings but had been treated to another rapid flypast by the female Merlin. We tried the hide again and witnessed the Merlin perched in another part of the scrape but still offering herself up to the camera. I really do doubt that I'll ever see another like her.

There was time as we were walking away to grab a couple of shots of the little sorceress as she hurtled past us. Again not great photos but a record of the bird flying. As I've said I've never had many encounters with a Merlin before so this had been a good learning curve into how the species behaves and flies. Always useful to get sustained views of any bird.

Then, of course, the identity of the Least Sandpiper was confirmed as such. It was too late for us to travel over to the Somerset coast and see the bird before dark. Through my own stupidity in refusing to take the punt, I had missed out on a lifer. A female wizard is known as an enchantress, and the Merlin had certainly put us under a spell, but still we drove home feeling like we should have seen much more, and that I'd cursed the day. In the twitching game, you have to make snap decisions and to gamble. It often pays to take a chance, and really there is no harm in trying. But I didn't. Again. That's why I'm not a top twitcher!

May 2024

The latest late instalment in 2024's diary.

April 2024

A suitably brief résumé from me for April. Mainly because it was six months ago. The best birds seen during the month have already been featured in a couple of previous blogs so you can find longer accounts and many more photos of those further back if you so wish.

The Old Caley Year Review 2024

A Yellow Warbler isn't just for Christmas, it's for a Lifer! December 27th 2024

Christmas Eve isn't the best time to learn about a rare bird that's been found. But so it was when a birder in Kent announced to the birding world via social media at lunchtime that day that he'd found an American Yellow Warbler on a nature reserve in Snodland in the Tonbridge area of the county. Being discovered so late on Christmas Eve was inconvenient not only because it was too late for us to travel down from Oxfordshire in the hope of seeing it but also because we'd be tied up doing the usual annual family stuff for the next two days. So we had to wait until the Friday before we'd get our chance.

Our good friends Rob and Thomas did manage to see the Yellow Warbler just an hour or so after it being reported and they, along with many others over the next two festive days, posted photos of what was a gorgeous little brightly coloured bird. Warblers are one of my favourite families of birds and this was definitely one that I wanted to see. 

We decided to go for it on the Friday morning, for my part suitably sober again after festive over-indulgence, knowing that there would be a lot of other folk also making the trip. According to reports, over three hundred birders had seen the bird already, which had shown really well on all three days since its discovery. Generally the Yellow Warbler had been seen briefly early doors leaving its favoured roosting area. It had then disappeared for a few hours, presumably because it was feeding within an adjacent water treatment plant, but then returned in the afternoon to a small stand of alder trees where it happily hunted for food along with several Chiffchaffs and other common birds. While in those trees the bird offered unlimited opportunities for gaining good views and for decent photography.

We left before first light and enjoyed a smooth and swift journey along almost empty motorways for a change. We found the carpark easily and then took our time gearing up before walking along the well made path into the Leysdown Lakes nature reserve. We knew that the Yellow Warbler hadn't been seen because they'd been no reports of it up to our time of arrival at nine-thirty. I wasn't worried though because I thought it was fairly safe to assume that the bird was wintering in the area and would likely remain site faithful for a while yet. We strolled the quarter mile to where the alders stood. As we turned a bend in the path, it followed a millstream, the magnitude of the twitch became apparent. The very low key start to our day was now to be replaced by something much more frenetic. Lined up along the stream opposite the alders and the sewage works beyond were roughly around three hundred fellow hopefuls, and more were arriving all the time. I said hello to a few familiar faces and found a decent spot amongst the throng where we could view all of the trees supposedly favoured by the bird.

While stood there, I checked the latest bird news and was amazed to see that another mega head been reported in Kent. A Scops Owl had been found in Broadstairs, about an hours drive away. In keeping with many Owl species, it had been found after dark but had supposedly been present for at least five days having been seen by a householder perched on his garden fence. An organised effort would be made for later in the day so that the bird could be twitched, whereby a single light would be shone onto the Owl once it had been located using a thermal scope. We saw a Scops Owl just a dozen miles from our home in Oxfordshire eighteen years ago so already had the species on our UK list so didn't really need to go for it. Also we have a trip coming up next year to Lesvos, where Scops Owl are relatively easily seen. Thus I wasn't too interested in going for it since I didn't fancy adding another two hours driving to the day and I'm not "Big Year" listing this time around. The opportunity to see another though, would be hard to resist.

Back to the twitch in hand, almost three hours had passed since we arrived and there hadn't been a sniff of the Yellow Warbler. We'd seen a Firecrest, many Chiffchaffs, and a few other birds in the trees, and the brambles that underslung them but there had been nothing more brightly coloured than Blue Tits and Goldfinches. The weather was dank and dreary. Everything was cast in a cloak of greys and sickly browns. It wasn't really a day to be stood still outside. At least it wasn't freezing cold, like it had been when we had  waited for a similar length of time at our first twitch of the year back in early January when hoping for another North American Warbler, a Northern Waterthrush, to appear.

Suddenly at twenty-five past twelve, the crowd almost as one, was on the move! Somebody had heard the Yellow Warbler call about a hundred metres downstream. Three hundred very eager birders stampeded to get to the spot leaving the likes of me and Mrs Caley trailing in their wake. At least there was room along the wide path, at the Waterthrush twitch when a similar rush of bodies had ensued there was no room for such manoeuvring and many folk came to grief on a steep bank or just got bundled over by those all had temporarily forgotten their manners. Decorum largely goes out of the window at such times of increased excitement, and twitchers become akin to a football mob rushing towards a confrontation, but thankfully without the violent intent. I know because in over forty years of watching my team, I've been caught up in many unruly crowds at football matches. We joined the back end of the crowd, listened in, and sussed out where the bird had been heard. It had been seen as well apparently. A very helpful chap directed me to where the bird was, in a sparse twiggy bush on the opposite side of the stream. My first view of the Yellow Warbler was a quick one when it darted quickly up a branch and then flew directly to the alders where we'd all been just a minute before!

We now had the advantage of being at the front of the scrum so we got back to the original viewing spot before most, and managed to get a stream-side pitch, a much closer vantage point than before. I scanned the trees for movement. Helped by a chap who had already clocked the bird and who was calling its every move, I saw it and locked my binoculars onto it. What a stunner it was too, slightly larger than a Chiffchaff and even brighter yellow than I imagined it'd be. There was no mistaking this bird. My next priority, as it always is, was to get Mrs Caley onto it. Once that was achieved, I set about trying to get a photograph. In the poor conditions that proved less than easy, and although I followed the bird through the branches readily enough, getting the camera to perform well, was beyond my limited capabilities. I did manage to capture the bird but all my photos were affected, with branches in the way, poor focussing or the bird pointing away from me. Photography of small birds is not an easy sport in next to no light when extreme settings have to be used. Mind you, my mate Kyle (Birdwatch Britannia) who'd been stood close to me, managed to get a decent shot while my own efforts floundered.

The Yellow Warbler didn't stay for long and had soon flown back into the grounds of the water treatment works. The day before it had remained in the alders for well over three hours on and off, before going to roost. We weren't to be so lucky. The very fact that views had been so brief meant that most of the birders remained in attendance, hoping for improved views. I wondered if we'd had our chance but we stayed as well.

Another hour and a half of nothing much happening followed, until as suddenly as the first sighting, the Yellow Warbler was seen again in the alders. This time it appeared as if it would stay for longer but within a minute it was disturbed by a marauding male Sparrowhawk that flew menacingly into the same trees. The Warbler dropped like a stone into the bramble undergrowth. Birds have very effective safety strategies when threatened so even brightly coloured and easily seen prey for an attacking Sparrowhawk, can dodge the assailant quite readily. Hopefully it will continue to do so. The Sparrowhawk, a beautiful male, perched high in the trees for minute or so before flying off to try its luck elsewhere. It took a further couple of minutes afterwards for the Yellow Warbler to reappear. It was now two o'clock and the light was even worse than it had been all day, and it had never got above being dingy. In low light levels it's not just my camera that struggles, my eyesight does to, and my vari-focal lenses in my spectacles doesn't help one iota when alternating between close and far vision. I guess though, that I'd be far worse off without them, since I wouldn't even be able to see the trees! So it took me a while longer than I would hope, to lock onto the bird again. Once I had, I aimed the camera and took some more shots. Thankfully a couple of frames captured the bird, although the quality of the images wasn't up to much. But I was relieved, since I had record shots of my latest lifer.

Inexplicably, the Yellow Warbler stayed in the alder trees for less than a minute before it was flying upstream. The day before it had spent ages in those trees, today it had spent just a few minutes. The twitchers moved with the bird. We couldn't run along with them so sauntered our way up the path. With so many people stood across the path we couldn't get close to the bird. I just watched it through my binoculars and had probably my best views of it. I had no chance of adding to my photos.

The Yellow Warbler carried on flitting from one tree to another that bordered the stream. It was keeping loose company with a flock of Long-tailed Tits so was fairly easy to follow. I tried to gain some more photos but failed miserably. It had been a successful twitch but not a great viewing day, and I felt that it would rank alongside other anticlimactic twitches this year. Of two of those, for the Northern Waterthrush and the Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, I supplemented the first disappointing encounter with them by revisiting the bird again a few days later. Unfortunately that won't be an option this time because the Yellow Warbler wasn't seen on the subsequent two days, much to the chagrin of two of our mates who left the twitch half an hour before the bird showed.

The Yellow Warbler was last seen disappearing into thick buddleia scrub where it had roosted on each of the three previous nights. It was only just gone half past two as well, a full hour before the bird had departed before. With no further action we headed to the car. Kev, Kyle & Karen were heading off to try and see the Scops Owl (successfully as well) while we found a cafe close by and enjoyed a warming coffee. It was then almost four hours of slow driving to get home. I hate going birding in Kent (and most of Sussex, Surrey & Essex) since it involves using the M25 which invariably is torturous when it comes to getting home later in the day but for new and exciting birds, it's a price that has to be paid.

The Yellow Warbler was my 435th bird seen in the UK and the 288th for the year, in which we chose not to go for the "magic 300" and yet could easily have gotten there with just a modicum of extra effort. In 2025, we've chosen to direct our energies differently but will still twitch new birds for our life list.

Old Caley's Photo Blog #1; Lesser Yellowlegs, Frampton Marsh, 10th February 2024

The first of my blogs with next to no tittle-tattle and a presentation of my best photos of a particularly showy bird. The main reason I'm doing this is because I'm so far behind on writing up my blogs, that I just don't have time to do them in great detail. So it's just photos, photos, and more photos!

This Lesser Yellowlegs had become a bit of a celebrity at Frampton Marsh, attracting from all over. It had been present for almost two hundred days when we saw it for the third time. It has already featured in two of my previous blogs. The fact that it had come to like the flooded grassland right next to the visitor centre meant it was easy to see and to photograph at close range.