Scarce Warbler Fest #3, Blyth's Reed Warbler, Far Ings, 20th June 2020

Easy, Easy, Easy! Far Too Easy!

For the third time in less than a week we headed northwards to twitch a Warbler species. This time the quarry would be a Blyth's Reed Warbler, which generally breed in Northern Europe from Finland through to Russia, but which had pitched up in a Lincolnshire Wildlife Trust reserve on the banks of the River Humber and had proceeded to wow hundreds of visiting birders for over a fortnight. 

Our previous experience of Blyth's Reed Warblers amounted to just two birds, the first briefly seen at Slapton Ley in Devon nearly twenty years ago and the other, in June last year in Aberdeenshire, a bird that we watched at length and one that formed part of a terrific days birding. That Blyth's Reed Warbler also gained me my one and only Birdguides Photo of the Week award! Because of that close encounter last year we initially showed no interest in travelling the 150 miles to see the Far Ings bird but with the summer doldrums well and truly established in Oxfordshire and an option to see another scarce summer visitor on the way home, we succumbed and hit the road once more.

My Birdguides POTW winning image!

One big bonus associated with the Lockdown is that roads have been much less busy than normal so we made good speed on the journey. It was a very pleasant and sunny start to the day so the Blyth's Reed Warbler should, if still present, be singing and showing extremely well, as it had done so for its entire stay so far. After some initial confusion we found the small carpark on the reserve, geared up leaving the scope behind which wouldn't be required for this bird, and walked the few hundred yards to join a dozen or so other enthusiasts stood next to a row of reeds and trees that guarded the edge of a small lake. The Blyth's Reed Warbler could be heard singing loudly as we walked up and without needing any optical equipment at all we saw the bird instantly perched in a small shrub.

Blyth's Reed warbler

For the next fifteen minutes or so I fired off frame after frame of the Blyth's Reed warbler but also paid attention to its song, subtly different from that of the Marsh Warbler heard the week before, with more flutey type whistles and less mimicry. After a while though I began to think, "Why was the bird so small in my camera viewfinder when I was stood just a few metres away?", and "Did I have a setting wrong on the camera?".  Then it dawned on me, I hadn't pulled the lens out to full zoom so had been taking the photos at 100mm instead of 400mm! I had been using a 400mm prime lens for so long that I had forgotten that I now had a telephoto lens! When I edited the photos I immediately binned all of the first hundred odd images because the bird was so small in the frame! Hopefully I'll remember that mistake and I won't repeat it in the future. I wondered how many of my fellow birders/toggers had noticed the error and how many had thought, "Look at that idiot, he has a zoom lens and isn't using it correctly!", "What a prat!". An epic fail indeed!

Once I'd extended the lens to full zoom, the subject bird was now filling the viewfinder and I was able to capture the images I wanted. For the next forty-five minutes the Blyth's Reed Warbler spent a lot more time singing and perched openly than it didn't. Apparently they are usually, like most Warbler species, skulking birds, certainly during migration they are, but clearly, when they get the urge to advertise their presence to possible suitors, they forget all of their inhibitions. Mind you, the chances of this bird finding a mate would be very remote indeed in Lincolnshire in June.

I set myself to trying to capture some images of the bird in the nettles and undergrowth beneath its song perch in the tree above. That was more of a challenge, little of the sunlight filtered down through the tree but ultimately I felt it was more rewarding since the images attained more credibility than the rather easy to obtain images of it singing from the "rooftops", or is that just snobbish photography sentiment from myself? Probably, but anyway I prefer them.

We only stayed another half hour or so during which time the Blyth's Reed Warbler strutted its stuff almost continuously and performed for the constant trickle of new admirers. It was just so easy to see, watch and take photos of it that I actually became surprisingly bored very quickly and didn't get any of the buzz that I felt when pursuing the bird in Aberdeenshire last year. That bird presented a real challenge to see and record, this one just gave itself up too willingly. I still managed to take another couple of hundred photos, in addition to the ones binned because of the lens fiasco, before we left around 11:00. 

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The Bees Knees!

Normally we would have found a nice cafe to rest in for a while but of course that pleasure was still denied to us so instead we drove straight to the Welbeck Viewpoint on the edge of Clumber Park near Worksop. The viewpoint is a well known spot for watching Birds of Prey that nest in the woodland within the park. Early in the spring Goshawks are the main attraction but later in the season it is Honey Buzzards that command the interest from birders. We visited for the first time last July, a little late in the year as it happens, but still had distant views of two Honey Buzzards although we had to rely on a local expert to confirm that they were in fact Honey Buzzards and not just run of the mill Common Buzzards. My experience at watching Raptors is limited and even though I can identify most with good views, watching from large distances away and therefore having to work with just silhouetted and poorly detailed features is a skill that I don't really possess. Luckily there are usually some local experts present who are much more able to identify the distant specks in the sky. The only Honey Buzzard that I've seen which I had a really good view of was one that flew over our heads as we walked through a forest clearing in the Cairngorms. Unfortunately to begin with I had passed that bird off as a Common Buzzard as it flew in and by the time I had registered the Pigeon type long neck and small head, and the long tail, the bird was past us and I had neglected to take any photos. These days I always tend to shoot first and ask questions after.

We had arrived at the watchpoint during a period of inactivity and apart from a cascade of Common Swifts hunting insects over the lake there was nothing much to look at. Over the next hour or so the only birds of further note were a Hobby, a couple of Kestrels and a Sparrowhawk, none of which we specifically came to see. Common Buzzards intermittently rode the thermals but after nearly ninety minutes there was no sign of any Honey Buzzards. I spoke to one of the resident experts, well known to many considering the amount of folk who stopped to talk with him, and he reckoned that there was only a single Honey Buzzard present this year but that it usually put in an appearance at some point in the afternoons. A few minutes later a chap stood close by, but more than two metres away, called out, "Two birds circling high above us". I strained my eyes but couldn't locate the birds, asked for more information, and was very helpfully guided onto the birds. Both were clearly Buzzards, looked different to each other but I was still unsure of their exact identity. I find that no amount of poring over the Raptor Identification Guidebooks prepare you for actually seeing the birds flying at what seems to be a mile above the ground. I managed to find the birds in my scope and motioned for Mrs Caley to take it and watch the birds since I wanted some record shots.

Honey Buzzard, top, & Common Buzzard, bottom

By this time the chap who knew his Onions, and Buzzards, was confidently calling one of the birds as a Honey Buzzard. Careful comparison showed the bird in question to have a relatively small headed appearance and longer tail than its Common Buzzard companion. The wings were also "pinched in" towards the body giving the bird a "propellor" type look to it, as opposed to the broader and straighter wings of the Common.

Common Buzzard, left, & Honey Buzzard, right

Despite the poorly defined images that I took, it was clear that we had our Honey Buzzard fix for the year and our 182nd species was added to the Old Caley year list. One day I hope to get a proper and instantly identifiable photo of a Honey Buzzard, perhaps we'll get lucky when we hit Muswell Hill, the highest point in our part of Oxfordshire, later in the year looking for migrant Flycatchers.