Another Year...

2025 is now just a couple* of bottles of wine away, so it probably isn't too early for a quick NQS review of the year's birdy stuff. I've trawled through my 2024 photos and picked some highlights. Here they are, grouped under random headings that allow for a few words and are at least in some way relevant...

Migrants

A large amount of my birding time is spent looking for migrants. Like all birders that have been at it for more than four decades, I spend most of the spring and autumn moaning about how few I see these days. Some of this will be down to failing eyesight and partial deafness, but quite possibly there actually are fewer birds too. For example, my 2024 tally of one Redstart is a bit rubbish.

An April Wheatear makes landfall at West Bay. Wisely, its stay is brief.

Firecrest is a notable exception to the numerically downward trend. I saw far more than usual this autumn.

At least three Cogden Dartford Warblers were a pleasant surprise.

Well, they are migrants. Turnstone and Sanderlings on Cogden Beach. Lovely.

Rarities

I am no longer interested in travelling to see rare birds, so megas like Kent's recent Yellow Warbler and Scops Owl do not feature on this blog. Frankly I wonder at the apparently undiminished appetite for long-distance twitching that still pervades the birding community. The old 'fiddling while Rome burns' analogy seems ever more appropriate. Anyway, rarities for me are not usually rarities in the generally accepted sense at all, but scarcities at best. Sometimes not even that. And they are very unlikely to be far away...

A roosting Nightjar at West Bex was the first daylight bird I've seen in 20+ years down here. That's 'rare' in my book.

The Whitford Rosy Starling, access to which courtesy of a generous local birder.

Plastic White-tailed Eagle over our Bridport garden. Rare enough, but subject to all kinds of caveats.

No arguments about this one - except that 'scarce' is not 'rare'. Still, what a bird! Woodchat Shrike at West Bex.

Mmmmmm...

Gulls

Always deserving of a special mention, gulls are one of my principal birdy pleasures in life. Finding two Caspian Gulls was a highlight of 2024, especially the Cogden bird, which rates as one of the smartest Casps I've encountered...

What an awesome creature! September 8th is my earliest date for Casp, so this is the closest to juvenile plumage that I've seen.

This 2nd-winter Casp on the Axe provided a really good photo opportunity. Thanks to Steve Waite's careful record-keeping I know that it was the 38th Caspian Gull seen on the estuary, since the first in November 2007.

Ten-year-old Med Gull from Hungary. Colour rings offer another way to get birding jollies from gulls.

The times, they are a-changing...

In recent years Cirl Bunting has become a regular sight locally. This welcome development sits alongside another that may not be quite so unambiguously delightful - the ongoing egret explosion.

Five Cattle Egrets over Black Hole Marsh, Seaton. Unthinkable when I first started birding.

Autumn Cirl Bunting at the West Bay vis-mig point. On the move to where, I wonder?

Local Cirl Bunting in April. Just stunning.

The Sea

Local seawatching in 2024 was a bit of a damp squib. Still, a short spring break at Portland Bird Observatory did not disappoint...

Portland Pom with 'poons. Pow!

The Seaton Birdwatching Tram

With two seasons now under the belt I can safely say that my role as one of the Seaton Birdwatching Tram guides has been a genuinely rewarding experience. Sharing just some of what my hobby has taught me over the years is a real pleasure, especially with the typically receptive and appreciative bunch that we get on these outings. And very often there are some great birds too...

Osprey from the tram. What a treat.

Three juvenile Barn Owls. A very nice surprise.

Random

Sometimes I get as much pleasure from a nice photo as from an actual bird. A few examples...

Cogden Goldcrest.

Garden Blackcap.

Cogden Stonechat.

Projects

To be honest there haven't been any serious projects in 2024, but I'm going to close with this topic anyway. In the past I have whiled away many a happy birding hour in pursuit of some whimsical project or other. Many have featured on this blog. I spent one educational winter getting to grips with Siberian Chiffchaff, for example. That was definitely worth the trouble. Trying to find a winter White Wagtail was another fun project. And there was my effort to determine whether or not our local winter population of Rock Pipits included birds which could be proven to be Scandinavian littoralis birds.

Why am I mentioning this stuff?

Because I get the impression that some birders are genuinely desirous of doing something about their high-carbon birding habits but struggle to see how their everyday local birds might provide a satisfying alternative. All I'm suggesting is that everyday local birds can be unexpectedly interesting. I have been pleasantly surprised at where curiosity and a bit of imagination can take you...

A December Rock Pipit along West Bay seafront. Littoralis?

And here it is with a juicy morsel from among that seemingly lifeless scatter of stranded flotsam.

Might that be one of these maggoty things - presumably fly larvae - found among similar beached debris on the Seaton shingle earlier in the autumn? So many questions...

All the very best in your 2025 birding endeavours.

*example of hyperbole