Success Stories

I saw a Cattle Egret this afternoon. It flew east over the tramline at Colyford while I was waiting with a few other cars at the crossing. It was comfortably close enough to identify with the naked eye, and got me thinking...

Not too many years ago I would have felt compelled to turn around as soon as possible and chase it, to send several text messages, even make a phone call or two. But now? Cattle Egret? Pfff. Had it been a Great White Egret, then yes, that might have prompted a bit of action. Well, a group WhatsApp message anyway.

When I first moved to Seaton as a somewhat phased birder in late 2002, it was still a novelty to see Little Egrets on the Axe Estuary every day. Well, it was for me. As a very on/off birder through the 1990s, I had largely missed their invasion. In July 2005 I saw my first local Cattle Egret, at Colyford Common. Then in 2008 there was a little flurry of Axe records, and we talked optimistically of imminent colonisation. But it was a false start. It didn't take much longer though, and the Somerset Levels are now sinking under the weight of the things. Great White Egret has been sluggish by comparison. My first local bird was in September 2005, on Colyford Marsh. I was five miles away in the middle of a job, which I dropped instantly in order to twitch it. I'm not sure when my next came along, but not before at least 2011 or 2012. But now even Great White Egrets barely raise an eyebrow - and certainly not a pulse - lovely though they are.

In common with many other long-time birders, I have seen all three of the above species go from BB rarity to regular breeder. Whether this is actually the celebration-worthy success story it might appear to be is a matter for debate, but I shan't go there just now.

Meanwhile, of course, many formerly common species have gone the other way. It would be easy to spend the rest of this post lamenting their demise, but there's more than enough bad news around at the moment, so instead I want to talk about Cirl Bunting.

Splendid male Cirl Bunting, photographed at Cogden on Sunday afternoon.

I saw my first Cirl Bunting on 18th June, 1978, at West Wycombe in Buckinghamshire, also a male. I am not familar with the species' current status in Bucks, but I'll bet there haven't been many records in the 45 years since. The next time I saw Cirl Bunting was around 1984 or '85, at Wembury in South Devon, in the heart of their UK stronghold. I say 'stronghold', but it wasn't really. By 1990 the species was on the brink of extinction in this country, with around 100 pairs remaining. All the populations outside of Devon had shrivelled up and died years earlier. For example, Dorset's last breeders were as long ago as 1971.

However, in 2016 a full survey revealed 1078 pairs, including the satellite population in Cornwall, grown from youngsters translocated from Devon during 2006-2011. It had taken a quarter of a century of collaborative effort from various bodies, including the RSPB of course, but what a result! Since then, Cirl Bunting has been slowly creeping eastwards in Devon. It can only be a matter of time until it once again breeds in the Seaton area. I have a vintage copy of Devon Birds magazine, dated October 1966. The main article in it is The Birds of the Axe Estuary by R. T. Cottrill and P. A. Hill, which records Cirl Bunting as a breeding species in 1964: one pair on the west side. For those who know the area, 'the west side' means somewhere between the Seaton to Colyford road, and the river Axe. I can't imagine that happening now, but who knows?

The Dorset story gives reason for hope though. Without the need for any human intervention, Cirl Bunting has suddenly bred again in the county after an absence of 52 years! Two pairs that I am aware of, at Portland and Cogden.

So, a lovely success story, but I doubt that Bucks birders will be holding their breath until Cirl Bunting breeds there again!

Meanwhile, birding continues in unspectacular fashion, with nothing particularly noteworthy the last couple of times out.

On Sunday afternoon I counted 14 Chiffs, up from four on a similar circuit the previous day. So things are quietly happening...

Finally, I forgot to post this earlier in the week, but better late than never. This is the sound you want to hear as you walk past a late-autumn thicket...

That's a Ring Ouzel* complaining that you're too close!

* Recorded Monday morning, 9th October 2023, at Cogden.