January 2026 Roundup

Welcome to my latest New Year attempt to get blogging again. Generally I'll just plan on writing a monthly bulletin but will probably try to blog up our holidays too. I will probably fail with that plan but you never know.

This year I have other important missions to deal with, not least to get my house sorted out so that I can sell it, so my birding will largely be more selective. To that end, I am putting all serious thoughts of building a big year list this time to one side, and will be concentrating purely on adding new birds to my life list plus targeting those special birds that are always good to see. (Yeah right, I've said that before, more than once, in fact every year since I don't know when).

We have no holiday planned abroad this year, and will likely just aim for Scotland, Wales and Cornwall as usual.

Friday 2nd January; Keeping up Appearances!

Our new year list started on New Year's Day with just fifteen species seen in and around our garden in the bird-desert of North Oxfordshire. Told you I wasn't going for a big list but a year list, buts I will still keep one, of course. Otherwise how do I keep a check on what I've seen.

For the past eight years I have seen a Yellow-browed in the first week of January. I wanted to make that nine years in a row so Mrs Caley and I headed up to Hurley, on the outskirts of Birmingham, to hopefully see one that had set up its winter home next to a sewage works. Small warblers often choose such less than salubrious places to settle out cold weather because, basically, where there's s**t, there's flies, and they do a grand service by eating lots of them.

I'm keen to (largely) stay off the "birders bandwagon" this year, that phenomena created by the bird notification services whereby a whole bunch of birders and toggers trundle around the country to see the same birds. So it was good to sense that for once, we were slightly ahead of the game by going to see this Yellow-browed before most others did for their own year lists. There will be times of course, if we want to see scarcer and rarer birds, that we will have to jump into the slipstream left by the more eager folk. 

I parked my van, the car was on taking its own Christmas holiday to the garage, just a short walk from the sewage plant. We were joined by Jake, who we knew from the nearby RSPB Middleton Lakes reserve. On the way down the slippery ice-covered road, it was a cold but sunny start to the day, we noted several new birds for the year, most birds would be new for the year to be fair on our first day out, the best being Yellowhammer, Skylark, Sparrowhawk, and Meadow Pipit.

When we joined the other two birders already present, it was obvious that a small ditch lined with brambles and weeds was the main focus of attention. Without asking, we all locked onto the Yellow-browed Warbler (YBW) immediately. It feels good when you find a bird without any trouble. The last YBW that we saw, in the Kenidjack Valley back in October, was an absolute pig of a bird to see. All of the ones I've seen in January, except for a tricky bird near Cambridge, have been relatively straightforward to locate. Colder conditions must make the little waifs bolder by degrees (or lack of them).

I followed the YBW down the ditch for a few metres, waited for it to choose a spot illuminated by the winter sun and took my first photos of the year. Possibly some of the better photos I've taken of the species as well, since I was stood only a few metres away from the bird.

Yellow-browed Warbler

The warbler kept to the ditch for pretty much the whole time we stayed which was only an hour or so. It was pretty chilly along the ditch with a brisk breeze blowing through what was quite an exposed spot. The YBW kept us entertained though as it flew up and down the ditch. A couple of newly arriving birders made the mistake of chasing the bird, but we had already realised that it was best practise, as it often is, to stay put in one spot and allow the bird to come to us. To that end we concentrated on the more vegetated part of the ditch next to the treatment plant fence. Views, and photos, in that part of the ditch fell into two distinct categories. If the bird was in the top part of the weeds and brambles then it was festooned in glorious sunshine. Hence I was able to use high shutter speeds and low ISO to get nice colourful and bright images. However, when in the thicker vegetation, the YBW often disappeared right into it so getting clear views was difficult, although perseverance and patience paid off os it always does.

By contrast, if the YBW chose to feed right by the water at the bottom of the ditch, which was shrouded in dark shadow, then the ISO had to be ramped up high to obtain the few hundredths of a second shutter speed required to enable sharpness. Resulting images were thus much flatter, and the colours much subdued. Most folk prefer photos taken in bright conditions but personally, I'm a big fan of photos taken in cover where light doesn't penetrate so much, especially of small warblers and similar birds which spend a lot of their time in such places. To me, a photo taken when a small warbler is in the shade of a tree, or a ditch as in this case, tests me as a photographer much more. If I get some decent shots in less than optimal conditions then I'm a happy bunny. A good friend of mine told me a long time ago, that there is no such thing as bad light; an excuse used by just about every bird photographer (including myself as times) to apologise for less then perfect images. Rather there is a need to extract the best you can out of any situation, and to use the camera settings to get good images regardless. Importantly, any photo taken is a memory. And a memory of a bird in a shady spot is as good as one taken in a sunny place.

There were other birds feeding in the ditch and its surrounds to add to the year list. Most notably, a Chiffchaff purported to be of the Siberian (tristis) race. We saw this bird quite well in the shady part of the ditch, but I failed to gain such sharp photos as I had of the YBW. When feeding alongside the normal Common Chiffchaffs, of which there were several around, the "milky-tea" colouration was very noticeable. I never once saw it in the sunshine though but it looked reasonable for a Siberian. It certainly felt Siberian in the chilly wind.

"Siberian" Chiffchaff

Greenfinch

Saturday 3rd January; Streaming

Our friend Patricia had alerted us to a pair of Kingfishers that she'd seen on her local patch in the east side of our home town. We walked along the stretch of the stream where she'd seen the birds over the past week or so. Langford Brook connects Langford Village to our own former local patch, Bicester Wetlands Reserve, where we would see Kingfishers occasionally. It's likely therefore that the same pair of Kingfishers cover the whole stream.

We didn't find any Kingfishers on this walk, or on a subsequent visit the following day. However, we did spot four Blackcaps, two males & two females, that were feeding on the berries of an ivy bush that grew on the bank of the stream. The birds provided superb photographic opportunity as they acrobatically snipped the berries off.

female Blackcap

male Blackcap

Other birds were taking in the bounty of ripening fruit too. There were several Blackbirds, a Wood Pigeon, and some very elusive Redwing in the row of bushes. I wish we had an active wildlife corridor that the stream and trees provide at Langford in our part of Bicester.

male Blackbird

Wood Pigeon

Although the Blackcaps were more furtive on our second visit, one of the males afforded us a great show of its berry harvesting technique. Who needs Waxwings for those berry-in-bill shots anyway?

Saturday 10th January; Snipe Alley

The previous week had been cold with many days recording freezing temperatures. Lots of Jack Snipe had been seen throughout the country with the marsh loving and secretive birds being forced out into more open habitat in search of food. Lemsford Springs in Hertfordshire is a well known spot to see Jack Snipe. There, the birds feed in the emerging streams borne from natural springs, and the water doesn't freeze like the adjoining marsh. The streams have encouraged watercress to grow in abundance and the springs were used to cultivate the plant in times gone by. Now the vegetation is managed and controlled, and the site is maintained as a wildlife haven.

Because there had been many sightings of Jack Snipe, on Wednesday, the coldest day of the week, there had been at least five of the enigmatic wading birds seen, the site was popular on the day we visited. Entry is usually restricted to just a handful of people at any one time, and a key must be collected from the warden's office, but luckily the gate had been left unlocked so that everyone could gain free access. On the short walk to the hide, we heard and saw our first Ring-necked Parakeets of the year. Even before we opened the door to the viewing hide, we could hear the excited chatter of many people inside. Once we'd squeezed inside, it was clear that they were pointing something out, presumably a Jack Snipe since that's what just about everybody would be there for. Unfortunately we could barely get any further than the doorway in the rammed full space, and definitely couldn't get near any of the windows. The Jack Snipe by all accounts was right in tight to the nearest bank and was barely visible by those who could see, so we had no chance of getting it.

We'd visited Lemsford Springs before, and had failed to see any Jack Snipes. For the next hour, with no reappearance from the dumpy little wading bird, I had that sinking feeling of dread that we'd miss out again. During that hour there was plenty of other birds to keep us entertained, once we'd managed to gain a seat at the windows. Up to ten Common Snipes paraded around the cress beds, often at very close range from the hide. In fact, Lemsford Springs is a small site so everything is relatively near. Snipe in general are mud-lovers, feeders at the edges of pond and lakes, and there were a few probing away in the many decaying mounds of cleared watercress. Many of the Snipe however, were happily wading in the shallow water, and digging in the fine gravel and silt beneath. In such well oxygenated water, the invertebrate life must be teeming.

Common Snipe

The reserve is most famous for its population of Green Sandpipers. We get a lot of them at our local reserve but they never show there as closely there as they do here. I overheard another birder saying that he doesn't know of any other place where you can see Green Sandpipers as easily and as well as you can at Lemsford, and he is probably correct in that assertion. Most of the Green Sandpipers here sport coloured leg rings, owing to a detailed study at the reserve. It illustrates how much certain birds are habitual, with the same individuals returning year after year to Lemsford. The Green Sandpipers don't breed at the reserve. Like the majority of wading birds they head northwards to raise their young. A few pairs choose the Highlands of Scotland for breeding. We've been lucky to see a few in the Cairngorms in the summer, and once found an active nest whilst out walking.

Green Sandpiper

I was determined to stick it out, and wait for a Jack Snipe but even I was getting twitchy after another half hour of no further sightings. Most people had left the hide so it was much more comfortable and I could scan every part of the cress beds that was visible. The entertainment was provided by plenty of other birds. Goldfinches tweezed the seeds out of a teasel close to the hide. Siskins, Fieldfares, Redwings, and the noisy but restless Parakeets adorned neighbouring trees. A Grey Heron sat sentinel in the bare tree that the Ring-necked Parakeets were mostly squabbling over.

Goldfinch

Grey Heron

Then, after almost two hours of waiting, I noticed a movement in the spot where the Jack Snipe had been when we first arrived. With no bodies in the way, I could see, presumably the same bird, emerge slowly from the cover of the bank. I guess it had just been there all along but had needed to pluck up the courage to bob out into the open again. Earlier in the week, a couple of the Jack Snipe had taken to feeding right in the midstream, like the Common Snipes were doing, probably because the edges of the water were frozen. It wasn't quite freezing on this day so the Jack Snipe could clearly get what it needed from the area closest to the near bank which was one of the few places that you couldn't see clearly. However, this Jack Snipe did quickly adopt star-billing when it ventured out a few feet from the bank and probed into one of the stacks of cut weed.

A couple of birders entered the hide, and almost immediately one was shouting, 'There's another Jack creeping along the far bank'. I had literally just scanned that area for the umpteenth time that morning and had seen nothing of the small bobbing variety. Now, quite clearly, there was indeed another Jack Snipe in the watercress. Because this one was "in the open", it was more agitated and mobile, mainly because of the attention it was getting from its bigger cousins. The Jack Snipe mad a couple of "breaks for it", running quite quickly across the open breaks of water. So now, we had two Jack Snipe on view, although the closest bird soon disappeared bank under the bank again.

Our friends Kev & Kyle arrived, and of course, lucky souls as they are, were able to see the remaining Jack Snipe straight away. We stayed for another ten minutes or so, catching up on their escapades, there's a Big Year quest underway, so they're all over the country amassing an impressive total. Then with no further action from the nearside bank, we went in search in coffee. The other Jack Snipe did appear again, giving Kyle a chance to get his own excellent photos, and Kev to get some nice video. On the way out, we spotted our first Goldcrests of the year, and I tarried momentarily to take a couple of photos of one of the many Little Egrets.

Little Egret

We stopped at Calvert on our way home, to see if the resident Bittern was showing. It wasn't, but we did have the comical sighting of a Water Rail carrying a relatively large fish. It was chased by a Moorhen, which clearly wanted the bounty, so slithered across the ice, and upended as it tried to evade the bigger bird. It kept its catch though, although I couldn't believe it would be able to swallow the fish whole.

Water Rail

Friday 16th January; Little Things Count

A non-specific drive around the northern parts of Oxfordshire after taking breakfast at one of our favourite cafes added a couple of consequential birds to our year list in the form of Mistle Thrush and Stock Dove. With hardly any owls being reported locally this year, we checked out one of our known spots for Little Owl and were delighted to find that the pair are still surviving despite the awful weather. The birds watched us carefully from their usual rooftop lookout.

Little Owl

Saturday 17th January; Slimbridge Bonus Builder

With little to get excited about within an easy drive of home, and yet wanting to see some different birds, we took our annual early year visit to the WWT reserve at Slimbridge. We didn't arrive until almost midday, having been unaware of a road closure at Birdlip Hill where a new dual carriageway is under construction, and having to take a long detour around the Cotswolds in order to reach the reserve.

We made for the hides that look out over the Tack Piece first, and were soon adding lots of birds to our casual year list. Slimbridge specialities; Bewick's Swans, White-fronted Geese and Common Cranes were quickly added, with quite a few more including the scarce in winter, Little Stint. The biggest thrill though was seeing a smart Sparrowhawk alight on a fence post close to the hide.

Sparrowhawk

The Tower Hide provided us with good, if distant, views of one of the species that we most wanted on this visit, in the form of fifteen Tundra Bean Geese. The "Beanies" also had a single Pink-footed Goose in their company. The returning, and ringed, Ross's Goose was again tagging along with its adopted family of Barnacle Geese. A Peregrine Falcon was doing its best, or worst, at upsetting the thousands of ducks and waders on both the Dumbles, and the Tack Piece. 

Tundra Bean Geese

Ross's Goose

By Slimbridge's own high standards though, this was a quiet day so we moved on to the far flung South Finger hides where we enjoyed much closer views of some of the White-fronted Geese flock, and a Pink-footed Goose.

White-fronted Goose

Pink-footed Goose

For the third visit in a row we found a Water Rail feeding next to the small pond where some years ago, we saw a Spotted Crake. As ever though the direct sunshine made viewing tricky. Not that we should ever complain about sunshine, not after the current winter rain storms that had yet to abate since way before last Christmas.

Water Rail

On the way back to the main core of the visitor centre we stopped to admire some of the captive birds in the pens. None could ever be counted of course, but it's not often you can go eye-to eye with the likes of Smew, and courting Goldeneye.

male Goldeneye

male Smew

Back at the Rushy it was time to admire the likes of Pintail, and Lapwing up close and personal, as well as get a close exchange with a Black Swan that didn't arrive on a Qantas flight, but clearly didn't make its own way to deepest Gloucestershire either.

Pintail

Lapwing

Black Swan

In all, we clocked up twenty-one new species for the year, the biggest take of any day so far. Slimbridge always provides good value, not only in the number of birds, but in quality as well.

Bewick's Swan

Saturday 24th January; Double-Banded Delight!

In each of the last few years, January has given us an early tick for our life lists. All of them were birds from North America, for example we've seen Northern Waterthrush, and Least Sandpiper in previous Januarys. During the week before a Killdeer, an oddly named species of Plover, was found on a muddy field close to the New Forest in Hampshire. Unfortunately for me, I was unable to twitch the bird because of a heavy workload, so I spent every day chewing my finger nails and trying hard to contain my anguish at yet again having the disadvantage of being a "weekend twitcher". My fear of missing out was further compounded by the announcement that a "pheasant shoot" was going to take place at the site on the Saturday morning, and would likely, by many accounts, send the target bird (not literally I hoped) flying back across the Atlantic.

Come Saturday though, we decided that we may as well make the effort and take the shortish drive to the south coast anyway. We also decided to wait on news of the Killdeer so made our first stop to see the Great-tailed Grackle again at Holbury near Southampton. We'd first seen the Grackle towards the end of last year although we dipped it the first time and had to make a return journey. Generally considered to be ship assisted, the Grackle wouldn't ever be accepted as viable for any life list by those that make up the minds of those folk that can't decide for themselves, and the more ardent and competitive listers who operate in their own "ticking league", but I'm my own boss and I decided its would be absolutely fine on my own life list because my criteria of a bird having to be living wild, and free, were satisfied. Besides, who really knows which birds have actually been ship assisted? All North American migrant birds might be, although such ash assertion would be damning on the researchers who have put much time into studying the phenomena of bird migration. When we first saw the Grackle, it had been re-identified as a Boat-tailed Grackle. Now, owing to some scientific detective work involving the examination of one of the bird's droppings, DNA analysis had reasoned that the bird was in fact a Great-tailed Grackle, as was first thought. What a complex that bird must have.

We arrived at the same place as we'd seen the Grackle just a couple of months before and didn't even have to exit the car before seeing it. The Great-tailed one was busy feeding amongst the leaf litter right next to the path and road. I parked and jumped out and took some photos of the bird which was just metres away. I'd love to see this bird in sunshine, although at such close distance, the colours of the deep blue, purple, and even green feathers shine out regardless of the gloomy conditions. At that time we were the only ones watching the Grackle, all other birders would be chancing their arm at the Killdeer still being present. News received shortly after confirmed that it was. Pheasant shoot or not, the Killdeer appeared to be staying put.

Great-tailed Grackle

We continued to watch the Grackle for a few minutes, taking advantage of some different poses as it flew to various different posts and perches. The Grackle also burst into sub-song as well. Another couple joined us and offered the Grackle part of their breakfast which it gladly snaffled, maybe that's what the bird had been asking for.

Then, almost en masse, a whole gaggle of birders arrived. They'd already seen the Killdeer, and with the scheduled shoot due to begin at ten-thirty, had left and come for their fill of the beautiful crow-like bird. That was our cue to head the other way and get the Killdeer.

A main advantage of arriving a few days late for a major twitch, is that parking is a lot easier. I was able to park comfortably at the closest and easiest access point to the small reservoir, where the Killdeer had taken up residence. We joined just a handful of other birders viewing the muddy field next to the reservoir. The Killdeer, so called because of its call apparently (although to my ears, it sounds nothing like it), was located probably the best part of a hundred metres away so it was strictly record shot territory. No closer access to the bird was possible either, although a few toggers had nipped over a fence and gained much better views, at the cost of trespassing mind, which by all accounts, the farmer was none too pleased about. When the shooting began at gone eleven o'clock, it was heard quite a distance away, and had no bearing on either the birds or birders. The Killdeer wasn't at all bothered by the bloodlust.

Killdeer

We picked up a couple more year ticks, most notably a Little Gull that rested upon the water of the reservoir before heading off for coffee and lunch. The horrible weather that persisted throughout most of the month was hardly conducive to anything other than close-up photography, and most of the subjects appeared to be keeping their distance.

Little Gull

After lunch we headed to Blackwater Arboretum in the New Forest itself. We first visited the site some twenty years ago but hadn't been back since. There are some large conifer trees within a fenced compound that provide Hawfinches with a safe winter roosting spot. Our mate Kevin had been tipped off about the roost the week before when he twitched the Killdeer, and had fortunately reminded me that I could get the chunky finches on my own year list. Last year was a bumper year for Hawfinches, but it's always worth getting some for insurance purposes should this year be less productive. By the time we'd reached Blackwater, there was light rain, and we had to put up with a togger who was persistently boring and irritating, and who relegated my own level of moan-ability to non-league. We did see about five Hawfinches but I never managed a photo of any of them. I'm definitely struggling a bit with the camera this year. owing to my own lack of skills in less than optimum conditions. I fared a little bit better with some of the many Marsh Tits that were attracted to free handouts of seed.

Marsh tit

Sunday 26th January; Brambling Bonanza!

There is a field not far from the not so secretive owl place just over the Oxfordshire-Gloucestershire border where there is a supplementary feeding program, primarily aimed at winter finches. I'd looked for the birds there twice before and had never seen any birds. None at all. However, encouraged by a well known Gloucestershire birder, I decided that another attempt was in order. This time I checked the location of the site with my friend, and quickly realised that I'd been looking in the wrong place! That's why I'd never found any of the birds that could be seen there.

On another grey and grim morning we arrived at the small pull-in, only to find that someone else had beaten us to it. Unfortunately the gateway where you park only has room for a single vehicle, and to see the birds remaining in the car is a must. I managed to park my car opposite but our views were very restricted. There were however, lots of birds and we could make out the main prize of Bramblings amongst them. We had to wait for about fifteen before the other interested party drove away. I quickly took the spot by the gate and we settled in.

It was a bit of a wait from then on before the birds, startled by the departing car, returned to feed. Remarkably the sun had put in a rare appearance so we were getting very nice illuminated views of a half dozen or so Corn Buntings that had arrived. A solitary and sick looking female Chaffinch was the only finch that was feeding.

Corn Bunting

female Chaffinch

The feed is put on the ground just over the gate we were parked in front of. A dry-stone wall edge the field and two tall bushes grow next to it. Those two bushes provided sanctuary for the birds coming to feed. Small numbers of birds were flying across the fields from trees the other of the road, and we noted Linnets, Blue Tits, Great Tits, Chaffinches, and a few of the sought after Bramblings.

Brambling

Amazingly when the flock plucked up the courage to drop to the ground and feed, there were roughly around fifty Brambling, easily outnumbering all the other species. Amazing because very few of the colourful finches were actually visible in the spindly and bare-branched trees, and yet they all emerged from there.

We watched the finches and buntings, we logged our first sighting of a Reed Bunting of the year as well as the Corn Buntings, for half hour or so and left them to it. As we drove off, a trio of Red-legged Partridges crossed the road ahead of us. We now had an assured spot to see Brambling for future years.

male Chaffinch

Friday 30th January; Got to Go Gossing!

A bit early in the year for it but our favourite Oxfordshire cafe is only a short flight away from our premier local spot to see Goshawks so I couldn't resist nipping over the hills after another excellent couple of flat-whites, to chance my arm at getting a decent photo or two of my favourite bird of prey. It was yet another cold grey day, hardly conducive to seeing raptors, but the visit paid off with two Gossies seen flying over woodland. Not a day for getting that elusive photo either. but it's always good to see a Goshawk or two. We'd be back in a few weeks time to try again.

Saturday 31st January; Decidedly Indecisive!

The last day of the month, and as it quite often the case, we sat on the drive not sure of what we were going to do. There were options of course, but I've gotten so used to making the wrong choice that I never plan much for certain these days. So, there we sat, weighing up those options. We wanted to maximise our gains without going too far. Norfolk and Suffolk were discussed, and dismissed as being too far; we just weren't up for long days yet this year. We eventually plumped for a trip to the not quite so far away Frampton Marsh, mainly because some Twite had been seen there the day before, but also because we knew there'd be plenty of other birds there to see.

One of those other species were Snow Buntings, of which a flock of seven had been present on the sea wall for a few weeks. Even though we'd be sure to see the winter visitors from further north at some point through the year, usually in their Cairngorm home in June, they are always a treat to see. We needed a fillip and Snow Buntings would certainly provide that. I parked up at the sea wall end of the reserve, knowing that the Bunting flock had been feeding close to East Hide. It was a major, and pleasant, surprise therefore, to find the seven birds feeding close to the gate at the end of the paved path that leads up to the wall. Hardly any effort required. We watched the birds, two males included within the group of seven, feed on the muddy bank. I've seen lots of Snow Buntings, and they always strike me as clean and particular birds, careful eaters as they extract the seeds out of grass and other plants. To see these birds with bills caked in mud and stained with dirt just showed how hard they were having to work to gain food during the very inclement weather that this winter had brought.

Snow Bunting

When disturbed by walkers, the flock would take off and wheel around but they kept returning to the same spot, and I had a chance to get some flight shots, although with mixed results. The best "captures" were generally blurred, as they always seem to be. As a big bonus, the Snow Buntings "picked up" a small flock of smaller birds, which luckily alighted very briefly and revealed themselves to be the Twite that had been reported before. Later I spoke to the warden of the site, and he related that the Twite had been present for several weeks but were generally very elusive, feeding surreptitiously way out on the salt marsh, and were largely only encountered when in flight.

Brent Geese use the pools and scrapes at Frampton Marsh, for resting, when away from their main feeding grounds on The Wash, the large area of shallow mud fringed sea between Lincolnshire and Norfolk. They give countless opportunities for photography, especially on this rare sunny morning. The reserve in general was fairly quiet, and the only other species we added to our list was a pair of Oystercatchers that flew noisily over. True, there were lots of ducks and other waders but we'd already seen them all this year.

Brent Geese

We had learned earlier in the week that a Great Grey Shrike had been showing really well just north of Lincoln, about an hour north of Frampton. When that was reported as still being present, we decided that we may as well go for that, instead of further traipsing around the soggy and muddy paths looking for something different. So after a quick coffee in the cafe we moved on. The drive through the farmland surrounding Frampton, gave us a group of Tree Sparrows feeding by a farm shed. Tree Sparrows used to be a regular sight at Frampton Marsh but they all disappeared from there a few years ago so it was nice to see some still in the general area.

After battling through the city centre of Lincoln, and circumnavigating the impressive cathedral, we emerged into the Lincolnshire Wolds, an area that I'd never really been to before, apart from passing through occasionally. The shrike had been found in a set-aside field right next to a minor road close to the village of Fillingham. It had remained faithful to the field for a week or more, and surprisingly for a Great Grey Shrike, didn't wander far and wide so could be encountered very easily. And so it proved, we were on the shrike immediately, spotting it perched up on the roadside hedge around fifty metres from we stood.

Great Grey Shrike

 

Another birder there, a local who had seen the shrike several times, advised us to remain patient because the bird preferred to hunt over the field, and would hover above it to scan for its prey in kestrel-like fashion. The chap was proved right soon after too, when the Great Grey Shrike did launch into flight and hovered above the field. I'd never seen a Great Grey Shrike do this before so the behaviour was interesting to observe. They usually appear to be perch and drop hunters. The activity of hovering looked exhausting for the bird, and even though we didn't see it carry any prey items away to store in a thorny larder (Great Grey Shrikes are the famous "Butcher Birds"), it was clear that the method of hunting must have provided great profit for the bird.

We stayed for around for an hour before heading home, the long drive made worse by yet more heavy rain as we neared home. It's the driving home that is the worst part of going out for the day.

This January had been our slowest start to the year for a long time, testament to many factors, not least our own comparative lack of enthusiasm to previous years. That was borne out by our "paltry" total of just 115 birds seen during the month, our lowest for many years. That is unsurprising though, since we'd been mad year listers for the last four years. We needed to take things more slowly this year and we were doing just that.