It's a rarity, Jim, but not as we know it...

This afternoon was calm and overcast. I could picture the sallows and sycamores of Cogden, small and interesting warblers flitting through their limp foliage, easy to spot...

Yeah, right. The initial vibe was dead, dead, dead. And thinking about it logically, surely the whole place had been completely blown out by yesterday's hoolie? Hmm. Yes, probably. Ah well, perhaps a few habitat photos then...

The view downhill across a typical Cogden field (no public access to this one) with a typical Cogden hedgerow, leading to the coast path and some typical Cogden shingle.

Sensing birdlessness, I decided to count Stonechats. At least it would make me search properly, do a bit of scanning and so on. If there was a Siberian Stonechat here, I was not going to overlook it.

I am so not a purposeful birdwatcher. My entire focus this afternoon was to see what I could dig out. Even the carefully noted Stonechat tally of 22 had an ulterior motive. As predicted, the sallows and sycamores were indeed still, but absolutely zero warblers were flitting through their limp foliage. A handful of thrushes burst from adjacent hedgerows as I plodded along. Blackbirds, Song Thrushes, uncounted. No Ring Ouzels. Ooh, is that a warbler?

No, it was a Firecrest. Distant and brief, no photo.

Another field, another hedge. The Firecrest was just along there on the right...

Carefully I worked the whole seaward edge of the Othona compound, with its tall pines and sycamores. Limp foliage city. But dead. Not even a Chiff.

Eventually I was down on the coast path...

The inner coast path, looking E towards the boardwalk sallows.

A bit of patience here paid off. Another Firecrest and at least three Goldcrests...

This afternoon's Firecrests were not cooperative.

This Goldcrest was less coy.

While I was manoeuvring into position for some more Goldcrest pics, and enjoying a bit of late-afternoon sunshine, I kicked a small moth out of the weedy grass. Flip! Look at that! I knew it was rare. I'd seen it on social media recently, but couldn't remember the name. Thankfully it let me get reasonably close...

Banded Sable Spoladea recurvalis - a scarce migrant from the tropics.

Eventually it flew into tall bramble, out of reach. I'm not sure exactly how many Dorset records there are, but it looks like less than 30. If it was a bird, in a county context we are talking something a lot rarer than the Barred Warbler I found at West Bay a couple of autumns back, and in a completely different league to the Yellow-browed Warbler I keep hoping for currently. Brilliant.

That fired me right up. From this point on, every bit of rank, weedy vegetation got a good kicking. Quickly I added Rusty-dot Pearl to the moth list, another migrant but common. However, that was it. Despite a lot of effort, and deliberate detours through likely-looking habbo, I did not see another moth.

Have I peaked, I wonder? Is this jammy encounter going to be the rarity highlight of my autumn? I sense irony.

An arty habitat shot to close...

The Cogden reedbed is a spectacular spidery metropolis.