Lots to Look At

A quick catch-up. In a nutshell, birding is genuinely exciting right now. Not only are there good numbers of regular migrants to bump into, but you can sense the very real possibility of a bit of superior quality too. None of the latter for me just yet, but lots of the former. Cue many photos...

Cogden. It's 06:45 on Wednesday, and I'm nowhere near the beach yet. Whinchat and Wheatear. A flavour of what's to come.

And down on the beach...Wheatear...

...and Whinchat

Nice juv Ringed Plover, evidently weary after its overnight travels

It was also a ringed Ringed Plover, a first for me I think.

Whinchats are even more demanding of camera time than Wheatears. This one on Dock sp(?)...

...this one on Sea Kale...

...and Yellow Horned Poppy.

There were two of these on the beach. I'm a lot more cautious with Alba wagtails than I used to be, but I would probably still call this one a White Wag. Elsewhere on the beach were a local adult and juv/1st-winter Pied, and the youngster was much duskier than this one.

Yellow Wag with breakfast. Great to see a few on the beach.

Oh, and a Whinchat

A totally different kind of Whinchat. A West Bex one.

Wednesday's Whinchat tally was an astonishing 24! And that was the minimum; I'd be pretty confident that the real figure was 30 or more. By location, it was nine at Cogden, 14 at West Bex (including at least 11 in one field!) and one at East Bex. Although I don't have historic figures I'm sure I've never seen more in a single day.

Wednesday basically went like this: 17 Yellow Wags, 47+ Wheatears, 2 White Wags, 3 Ringed Plovers, 2 Dunlin, Turnstone, Water Rail, Sedge Warbler, Willow Warbler.

Thursday and today were pretty full-on work, but I managed an after-dinner walk on both evenings. Thursday to Cogden, where it was obvious that Chiffchaffs are moving now too, with at least five seen, plus a couple each of Willow and Sedge Warbler. Highlight was a party of four Spotted Flycatchers, feeding together in the evening sunshine...

Spotted Flycatcher at Cogden - the 'birder's photo' version

This evening I tried West Bex, parking at the beach and walking east. Four Wheatears was all I could muster before heading inland to Labour-in-Vain Farm for the return leg. It was getting quite late now, and felt very quiet. About half way along Labour-in-Vain Lane I heard a phyllosc in the tall, dense hedge flanking the road. 'Yes', I thought, 'definitely a Willow Warbler'. A quiet, obviously disyllabic 'hoo-eet'. I reckoned it was a nice opportunity to test my pishing skills, and got to work. A few seconds later I spotted a movement in the foliage, then suddenly a head popped out and peered at me. Even before it flicked away with a louder 'hoo-eet' and dazzling flash of red tail I could see it was a Redstart! Well, that was a nice surprise, and a reminder to follow up 'Willow Warbler' calls at all times.

Pishing rules!

Ten minutes further down the lane a movement in the canopy of a small tree caught my eye. Very pleasingly, it was a Pied Flycatcher. Yep, this weather pattern has certainly spiced up the birding right now...

Not Quite Blakeney Point, But...

What a difference the shift in wind has made! Migrant-wise these last few weeks it has mostly been a case of scratching around for not much, but suddenly I'm going out and expecting a few decent birds. This morning's pre-breakfast walk at Cogden was terrific. Within moments of arrival a flock of 18 Yellow Wagtails flew over, and the beach was peppered with chats. It didn't feel as busy as yesterday, but very decent totals all the same, mainly from the beach and coast path...

44 Yellow Wagtails, 26 Wheatears, 11 Whinchats, 3 Willow Warblers and a Tree Pipit.

Beach Whinchat

And nice though it was, that should have been my lot for the day. However, I hadn't considered the possibility that Mike and Alan might find a Red-backed Shrike at West Bexington. I was just sitting down to an early lunch when the news broke, and immediately adjusted (aka 'abandoned') my plans for the afternoon. And boy, am I glad I did.

Thankfully it was on show when I arrived, and I was fortunate enough to see it before it saw me. It wasn't close, but despite a bit of heat-haze the photos came out nicely...

Female Red-backed Shrike. What a cracker!

As I'd made the effort it seemed sensible to cover a little circuit and see what else might be around. I'd already seen a Whinchat along a fence line, and could feel the expectation bubbling up a bit...

Forty minutes later, and nothing had happened. Plodding along a footpath I flushed a dragonfly, which landed again further on. Now, I always look at dragonflies if they perch up in a cooperative way, so raised my bins. My gallery of Odonata 'search images' is very, very small. Pitifully so. But among this tiny collection is a dragonfly with bright blue blobs on the upper abdomen - the male Lesser Emperor. It's been there since Steve found one at Lower Bruckland Ponds near Seaton many years ago. I did see it, buzzing distantly around the biggest pond, and recall how vivid those blue blobs were, even at range. And as I peered at this afternoon's specimen I couldn't help but notice blue blobs. Unfortunately the rest of the abdomen was much more brightly marked than the one in my search image. Hmmm. Just a moment though, what does a female look like? Obviously I had no idea, but I knew a man who did, and sent him a photo.

'Stevie, what do I have here?'

'A female Lesser Emperor!'

Cue restrained bit of air punching.

And here is the very first photograph of the very first rare dragonfly I've ever found...

Female Lesser Emperor. Photo taken at some range. I really didn't want to flush it.

And here's a closer one...

My Odonata knowledge is so scanty that I really don't deserve to find rare ones. But I do realise the potential of a south coast location, so will always look. And it turns out I am decidedly chuffed with that one, and wouldn't mind it happening again.

Shortly after the Lesser Emperor I came across a smashing little bunch of migrants...

Two Redstarts...

...a Spotted Flycatcher...

...and a Pied Flycatcher - my first this year.

I had obviously stumbled across a bit of a hot-spot, because apart from a couple of Willow Warblers I'd seen very little else in the way of migrants. And then, almost back where I started, that first Whinchat had now been joined by another, as well as a Wheatear and my third Redstart a bit further along the fence line. Another little hot-spot...

What a day!

And it is days like this one which reinforce my conviction that almost any classy bit of habitat along this coast (and of course countless other places) has the potential to provide some really exciting birding. Just imagine how much is out there, undiscovered. Yep, to bird where so few (if any) birders go, and to find your own stuff...

Can't beat it .

A Day to Remember

Today was an excellent day to take off work. A switch in the wind has cranked open the autumn migration floodgates. Cogden called, and I answered. To the tune of almost ten miles (18,417 steps apparently) split between a pre-breakfast session and another from mid-afternoon. I am pleasantly knackered, and have a really good tally of autumnal bits and bobs to show for it. Here it is in list form...

Yellow Wagtail 82
Willow Warbler 23
Whitethroat 21
Wheatear 17
Whinchat 8
Lapwing 5
Tree Pipit 3
Redstart 2
Spotted flycatcher 2
Garden Warbler
Turnstone
Ringed Plover

Fairly soon after arriving this morning, a Yellow Wag went over. My first of the autumn. 'Ooh, that's nice', I thought. And then 6 went past; then 12; another single; 11 more... You get the idea. Things were happening. In addition to the above, there was a constant stream of hirundines. It was brilliant. As well as the 82 Yellow Wagtails, so the Lapwings, Tree Pipits, Redstarts, Spotted Flycatchers and Garden Warbler were all my first of the autumn too. In fact the Garden Warbler was my first of the year!

It has to be said that the most exciting event of the day doesn't feature in that list. Shortly before 08:00 a rather smart falcon played an evil trick on me and earned itself a moment in the spotlight. But that's another story, and well deserving of its own post in the near future.

A few photos then, starting with Wheatears on the beach of course...

A stunning male

Sea Kale is such a weird glaucous blue colour...

More typical views

Another lovely male

And everything else...

For some reason Lapwing seem an incongruous sight in August

Whinchat at 06:57 in beautiful early-morning sunshine

This morning's elusive Tree Pipit. There were another two this afternoon, even less cooperative.

Lovely lemony Willow Warbler

The second of two female/juv type Redstarts. I couldn't decide which mediocre pic to include, so...

Spotted Flycatcher at the other end of the day, in the evening sunshine at 19:34

Before I left this evening, I took this last photo from the western end of Cogden, looking east. So much ground to cover, and I'm sure that list of birds above will be just the tip of the proverbial iceberg...

A Bad Day for Shorts

West Bex again this afternoon, and a wiggly route to East Bex and back. Very poor trouser choice though. The sunshine had tempted me into shorts, but I hadn't planned on taking a little-used path which I last walked in spring. A lot of growth has happened since spring. Ankle-high bramble runners are the bane of shorts-wearers everywhere, and this path was festooned with the blasted things. I am in tatters.

At least my sacrifice was rewarded. Two Hobbies again. One came off the ridge, rather like yesterday's main sightings, though I was a long way from where I saw the Cogden birds. The other dashed through from the east, low over fields and hedges, and away. The latter bird was so soon after the first that I'm convinced it was a different individual. Here's the first one...

I think five-pixel Hobbies are going to become a traditional NQS thing

My notes list four other birds: 2 Willow Warblers, 1 Lesser Whitethroat and 1 Goldcrest. The Goldcrest is notable for two reasons. One, it was a just-fledged juv, and therefore perhaps a West Bex product. And two, it was my first Goldcrest of 2021. How does a birder get to late August without seeing a Goldcrest? Some achievement that.

So yes, Hobbies aside it was pretty poor for birds today. There are more butterflies in my notes than birds. And one was an unexpected corker!

A bit less than pristine, but this female Silver-washed Fritillary was a surprise encounter at West Bex.

It was on view for about a minute before flipping over the bushes and out of sight, but thankfully I got some photos. I'll be honest, I had to ask for ID help. I knew that Dark Green Fritillary occurs at West Bex occasionally, but didn't know whether Silver-washed was even on the recording area list, so assumed this was probably going to be the former. But no, it is indeed a Silver-washed Fritillary, and an even scarcer visitor to West Bex than Dark Green.

Also in today's notes were 7 Painted Ladies...

Painted Lady on Fleabane I think.

I have pics of Painted Lady on Knapweed and Teasel too. Perhaps I should start an album...?

When I got home this evening I had a little browse on Twitter before dinner, and discovered that a really smart rarity has happened in Cornwall...

There was a time when this species would have had me moving heaven and earth to see it. Until recently there hadn't been an occurence in Britain since my wedding day: 9th August 1980. All through my twitching years it was one of those mythical birds that you just hoped would one day do the right thing...but which never did. For 40 years it resolutely held out. And then last autumn a miserable-looking specimen turned up in chilly, wet Norfolk, to a deafening fanfare of triumphant euphoria. At the time, I wrote about the strange disconnect from it all that I felt - here - and I'm interested to note that my feelings are still exactly the same.

Like Peter in his tweet there, I would call this bird a Rufous Bush Chat rather than Rufous-tailed Scrub Robin (assuming that's what its current name is) and not because of some entrenched resistance to change, but because 'Rufous Bush Chat' is what leaps automatically and excitedly into my head when presented with that image. It's simply a name that has been familiar for decades, that's all, while 'Rufous-tailed Scrub Robin' requires a conscious effort to summon from the 'New Stuff' folder.

Whatever you call it, this particular individual is most definitely a stunner. My Twitter feed is rigid with pics of the bird, and in all of them it looks amazing. Such a contrast from the sorry, bedraggled beastie at Stiffkey last October.

Country-wide, birders have been doing precisely what I would have been doing 35 years ago: dropping everything and rushing off to the Lizard. Meanwhile, my day's highlight remains a not-uncommon butterfly, with which I am very chuffed. Funny old game, isn't it?

Enjoying My Hobbies

On Tuesday morning I witnessed a bit of birdy life-and-death drama. Scanning out to sea I spotted a distant, dark, angular bird engaged in rapid manouevres. My first thought was Arctic Skua, but quickly I realised the bird was actually a Peregrine. It was stooping repeatedly, but initially the range was just too great to see the object of its attentions. Eventually I picked up a tiny something-or-other dashing through the waves, making a rapid zig-zag course towards the beach. The Peregrine was relentless. Stoop after stoop after stoop, frequently forcing a major change of direction. The little passerine finally made landfall well to the east of me - seemingly intact - and appeared to dive straight into cover. Wise move. The Peregrine missed it by a whisker and plonked on the beach nearby, probably for a breather.

Seeing a falcon do its thing is right up there with the best birdy action moments. One of my autumn highlights last year was getting some video of a young Merlin consuming a kill at Cogden. And today I got to watch one of my all-time favourite falcons in action...

Hobby at Cogden this afternoon

My initial view was from the beach. Scanning inland I spotted a Hobby dashing across a crop field. Even though it was several hundred yards away I managed to get some record shots...

Distant Hobby in full flight. Inset bottom left is another shot from the sequence, and shows that the Hobby was busy dismantling a dragonfly or something as it belted along.

A bit later I came across my Hobby up near the ridge which carries the coast road. It was clearly on the prowl, and I'm guessing that insects were the prey. Although it spooked plenty of birds I never saw it chase any. Having said that, occasionally it would dash around madly, though I could never see what it was after. Here is a 'Spot the Hobby' shot, as it dived below treetop level...

Hobby dot: half way up, left hand side. Woodpigeons on the right, looking a touch jittery.

And then suddenly I realised that a second Hobby had just popped into view. Momentarily I had both together, then just one again. I managed one burst of shots of the second individual, and it's just as well, because every other photo features a bird with damaged primaries on its right wing. So here is proof that there were two...

On the left: bird 1 with damaged primaries. On the right: immaculate bird 2

Capturing flight shots of Hobby is a bit of a stretch for my camera, so I was happy to provide it with some easier meat down on the beach...

Wheatear, at Cogden early this morning

Fresh juv Wheatear this afternoon.

Another of this afternoon's Wheatears.

A quick, early jaunt in this morning's Stygian gloom netted 7 Wheatears and my first autumn Whinchat, while the afternoon Wheatear count was 10, and Whinchat, zero. However, the lack of Whinchats was compensated for...

One of two Clouded Yellows, and the first I've managed to photograph this year.

Apart from the few Wheatears and single Whinchat, passerine migrants were once again lacking today. Surely it's got to happen soon...?

Shooting Records

It's been a long week. A pressing post-manflu backlog of jobs has forced me to behave like a normal person for once, and go to work every day. I did manage two early birding outings at the start of the week, but since then I've not even bothered with an alarm. Too pooped. So this afternoon I finished early and headed to West Bexington for a recuperative stroll...

This morning a male Southern Migrant Hawker was discovered at West Bex, just the second record for the site. I know what one of them looks like because on 2nd August Steve found the first for Devon at Beer Head and blogged about it here. Momentarily I considered finding out where exactly at Bex this classy beast had been found, but it was just a fleeting thought. In truth I have almost zero interest in twitching a dragonfly; I would far rather come across one by chance. So I just walked my usual route to East Bexington and back.

The migrant tally for West Bex was one Willow Warbler. And from a single East Bex hedge I managed to coax six Willow Warblers. But that was it - no other passerine migs at all. However, there were other things to enjoy...

My camera is now as indispensible a piece of kit as my bins, and I'll point it at anything that moves. My library of 'record shots' must run into thousands now. The better ones get tweaked and titivated, and many wind up on this blog. The very best might even qualify for a notch up from 'record shot', but I'm really not aiming for anything special. The mass mediocrity of the majority does not detract one bit from their ability to capture the moment, and for me that is their purpose. Even a pretty duff shot can bring an event to life again. Quite wonderfully sometimes...

Tuesday morning was the last time I got out before breakfast. This Wheatear, and the one in the next pic, were fresh in at Cogden. Like a nice sprinkle of garnish on the beach greens.

And here are a few from this afternoon's jaunt...

The first Holly Blue I've seen since the spring I think.

This Marsh Harrier is only my second of the year, and spent a few minutes quartering a grassy field at East Bexington.

Although it didn't occur to me at the time, I wonder if the seemingly paler inner primaries indicate that this is a 1st-summer male rather than a female (or juv). Anyway, I'm no expert, but I can say with absolute certainty that it's a Marsh Harrier.

I flushed this Corn Bunting from a weedy area at East Bex, and it was a very pleasant surprise. Last year I had up to two singing birds and pretty much confirmed breeding, but this is the first I've seen there in 2021. For a boring brown thing, Corn Buntings are actually rather smart.

This photo and the next depict a Kittiwake in 1st-summer plumage. It was mooching up and down the beach at West Bex for a while, and is the first I have knowingly seen in this plumage. Most likely I've seen millions previously but never registered them. Anyway, interesting bird. Look at those nice, new inner primaries, with the beginnings of the classic black wingtip of an adult Kitt.

So, there we go. Lots of record shots. When I browse this blog as a very old man one day, they will instantly recall that time when I had to do a whole week's work.

There have been nocturnal happenings too. Last night I recorded my second-ever Tree Pipit, and just over a minute later a tight (but very faint) bunch of six Tree Pipit calls, involving at least two birds. Here is that first, clear one...

In addition to the Tree Pipits, still a trickle of waders. Nothing unusual, but another Little Ringed Plover was a stand-out record. I say 'nothing unusual' but hey, just the fact that any waders at all regularly fly over my garden is pretty amazing.

A Bit of a Lesson

Apart from an overnighting motorhome the Cogden car park was empty when I arrived at 05:55. The light was dim; a gentle north-westerly breeze stirred the cool air. It felt autumnal. Typically I begin an early morning visit here by dawdling downhill to the beach, then head west along the coast path and back along the beach. This morning I reached the turning point without troubling my notebook app. A bit of pishing here and there, but no bites. Finally, halfway back along the beach, a migrant...

The first photo, literally moments after we spotted one another.

At migration times I am plagued by a ridiculously optimistic sense of expectation, especially at first light. I cannot help it. Gazing out over acres of as-yet unbirded south coast, the question is obvious: what's dropped in overnight? And more importantly, where is it? Better still: where are they? I fall for it every time, getting all keyed up beyond reason. However, by the time a completely migrant-free hour has passed, and a mile or more of silent bushes, I am once again comfortable with the reality of what is normal, ie, a nice walk in lovely surroundings, with the off chance of a decent bird or two. At which point a single Wheatear is a very welcome sight.

There's a reason I can't resist a posing Wheatear. I mean, just look at it!

The single Wheatear became three, and it was almost time to turn inland again. Just a final scan of the sea...

Ooh! That's a shearwater. And there's another. Suddenly I was looking at several shearwaters, and they appeared to be hanging around rather than passing through. Not too far out, but well to the west of me. I'd already sussed at least one Balearic among them, so hurried along the beach to get closer. Part way there I had another look. At least ten, maybe 15 birds, milling around over a smallish area. Some were certainly Manxies, their contrasty black-and-white plumage obvious as they turned, but at least two had the brown tone and dusky underparts of Balearics. At this range, with just bins, I couldn't say more than that. I hurried on.

Eventually I reckoned I must be more or less level with them. Puffing a bit, I scanned carefully. Initially there was no sign, but then I picked them up way off to my left, heading purposefully eastwards. A bit gutted I phoned Mike, hoping he'd get on them from West Bex. Sadly not.

A little flock of shearwaters was definitely not on my radar this morning, and I think they might have taught me a bit of a lesson.

I very rarely carry a scope these days, but boy did I miss having one this morning! My scope/tripod combo weighs 5kg (11lb) and is a pain to carry, so I mostly don't bother with it. And right there is a telling admission. The reason I rarely take a scope is not because I don't need it (clearly I sometimes do!), but because I hate lugging it about on long walks. And of course the answer to this problem is staring right at me from the Scopac website...

Some years ago I recall being party to a bit of leg-pulling when one of the Axe birders bought a Scopac. I have a horrible feeling I may well be eating words pretty soon. Serves me right.

Anyway, after the shearwater episode I tried one last hedge. Unprovoked, a cracking little Sedge Warbler popped out and spent several seconds inspecting me, before deciding I was harmless and slipping away into the foliage. A bit of quiet pishing coaxed it straight back out...

The very inquisitive young Sedge Warbler.

A little further along, two Willow Warblers and a second Sedgie. Result.

That's the sea in the background. I like living here.