Pale-legged Leaf Warbler – Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, 2nd October 2024
Pale-legged Leaf Warbler!! What a bird!!!!!
A bird about which, there is VERY much a back-story, so first the ‘back-story’.
The back-story
On the morning of the 12th October 2016, during the incredible autumn of the incredible year that was 2016, Dennis Weir and I had initially blithely misidentified an Arctic Warber we discovered in the walled garden at the community hospital / health centre in Baltasound, Unst as a Greenish Warbler. Our colleagues, Paul Collin, John Nadin and Ken Shaw asked us why it wasn’t an Arctic Warbler, and we agreed, and blamed our copious amounts of red wine-induced hangovers. Too late for poor Ken, who had already put the news out on the Shetland WhatsApp group in good faith, such that when he had hastily corrected the ‘news’ he was immediately fielding a barrage of messages, etc., asking him less than politely, “What the fuck was going on????”, and, “What the fuck was it?” (i.e., “It could be anything nowadays!!!” - in view of the ‘new-fangled’ super-rare eastern Phylloscs such as Eastern Crowned Warbler, Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Sakhalin Leaf Warbler, etc. we were all slowly coming to terms with…….. ).
Just a very few days later, Ken and Amanda Shaw and I arrived in the Scillies via a long journey from Shetland which had taken in the Dalmatian Pelican en route, but, sadly for me, not the Hudsonian Godwit.
Along with Chris Pendlebury, we were staying in Rosenhill Cottage on St. Agnes between the 17th and the 24th October.
Obviously, it was fantastic to be on St. Agnes again, and all the better given that my very good mate Paul Pugh was staying in a flat at The Parsonage concurrently. Birding wasn’t necessarily fantastic but we changed it up with some rock-pooling, botanising (Lesser Adder’s Tongue) and ship-spotting (Queen Mary 2). Paul had the best views of what was very probably a juvenile Pallid Harrier and we all saw this, or another, harrier distantly over The Narrows, but unfortunately the record never saw the light of day, in part mired in the two-bird theory, as there was a ringtail Hen Harrier reported on St. Mary’s concurrently.
However, this all paled (sorry) into insignificance on the night of the 21st October, when Laurence Pitcher, Lee Amory, et al., brought a deceased Phyllosc in a plastic box to the Turk’s Head…… .
They were staying in one of the cottages owned by Fran Hicks, and explained that he had told them about a dead ‘Yellow-browed Warbler’ he had found beneath windows at the lighthouse. He had indicated that if they were interested in seeing it, he had placed in in a green waste bin. They had retrieved the corpse and then, as they had thought it was an Arctic Warbler, but ‘not quite right', they had posted images of it on social media. Very quickly certain people, including James Gilroy, Chris Batty and Andrew Holden, responded saying it was either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler.
Anyway, that night, the corpse was taken to the Turks Head, where, rather unceremoniously, the bird was generally passed around, prodded and / or examined and photographed by the assembled birders, perhaps some 25 or so. Conversely, the ‘finders’ wanted to give it a decent burial, and we all worked hard to persuade them that this was a very important record, and the specimen had to be properly preserved and retained for prosperity (let alone identified as either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler using DNA!). Given the time elapsed, and the multiple handling involved, the specimen was already getting a bit squishy. However, all’s well that ends well, and the whole story, including the outcome of the DNA analysis, is properly written up here (unlike this nonsense):
https://britishbirds.co.uk/sites/default/files/2018_V111_N08_438-445_PaleleggedLeafWarbler.pdf
The front-story
For some (months and) weeks early autumn 2024, I had been somewhat preoccupied with, amongst other things, plans for celebrating the 90th anniversary of the Isle of May Bird Observatory.
This involved an on-island event planned for the exact day of the anniversary, 90 years to the day after the ‘Bird Boys’ founded the bird observatory on the 28th September 1934 to the very day.
Unfortunately, at 16:13 on the afternoon of Friday 27th September I received a ‘phone call from David Steel, the Reserve Manager on the Isle of May National Nature Reserve during which it was confirmed that the event (on Saturday at least) had been cancelled by Alex Gardner, the boatman responsible for the May Princess.
Consequently, I spent the next good while notifying all attendees of the cancellation, and determining whether they could make the rearranged sailing on Sunday the 29th September instead, liaising with the Chairman of the Bird Observatory, Alan Lauder and David Steel, preparing a new summary of attendees, etc..
As such, a RBA message at 17:55 possibly didn’t fully register, at least until much later.
The message said, “East Yorks probable Pale-legged Leaf Warbler Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm though elusive (for 3rd day; probably not Eastern Crowned Warbler)”.
A subsequent message at 18:42 said. “MEGA E. Yorks PALE-LEGGED LEAF WARBLER Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm (identification confirmed from sound recording)”.
This was repeated at 18:44, and at 19:10 it was confirmed it was still there.
However, if not comatose at this point (I may well have gone for a lie down after re-organising everyone and everything for the 90th anniversary celebrations…. ) I might still have been unaware, or at least un-responsive.
After all, Saturday had only just been freed up by the cancellation (except that, as of earlier on Friday, a heating engineer was now coming to sort out my issue regarding the failure of the boiler to produce hot water early on the Saturday morning), and Sunday had only just been booked up. And anyway, it was a long way to go, would be utter chaos, and probably wouldn’t be there by the time I got there (it had been around since Wednesday the 25th September).
Plus, I have to admit, my worsening balance issue gave me real concerns about struggling to get adequate views of what was ‘clearly’ a very elusive bird in deep cover in amongst a big crowd of over-excited twitchers on potentially very uneven ground. Nah, that wouldn’t be good.
The (rearranged) Isle of May Bird Observatory 90th anniversary event on the island went well, and certainly pre-occupied me on both the Saturday and the Sunday, as did the Burnley v. Plymouth game on the Saturday, despite twelve positive news updates on the Saturday and seven on Sunday.
On Monday it was still around, but maybe the weekend’s events had taken it out of me, as I couldn’t get too enthusiastic about it, even though I knew I couldn’t go on the Tuesday as my car was booked into the garage to get the blowing exhaust and non-pumping front windscreen water-pump sorted, or at least, diagnosed.
By now others in my circle had caught up with it, and others were asking whether I had.
However, the bird had shown commendable stickability, and so I resolved to go on the Wednesday as soon as there was news. This there was at 08:01, and so I was in the car by 08.13, for the start of a truly epic day of driving. Google Maps took me south on the west side of the country and across to the east on the A66(T), which is always going to be a mixed blessing ever since I got the news of my Dad passing away when journeying back to Edinburgh via the A66(T) just a very few hours after seeing him in hospital. Anyway, a couple of hold ups excepted, it was a good (c.275 mile!) journey, although I had to stop to refuel (being almost entirely empty) within 20 miles of my destination.
The journey took longer than what was indicated on Google Maps, but I duly arrived just less than six hours after I had departed.
On arrival I parked up. It was immediately apparent that the scene of the crime incredibly was close by.
There were still plenty of birders twitching the bird but a hint of some “Johnny come lately’s” being there several days after the event, without too much idea (me included).
I wandered into the nearest part of the scattered throng alongside the car-park access road, and was briefly distracted by a Goldcrest-fest which was being togged (there may have been a Yellow-browed Warbler there too, in mitigation).
I decided that asking RSPB volunteer for his advice seemed like a good idea. He confirmed that the bird had recently been seen, and described the bird’s rough circuit.
When I expressed my concern about getting good views given my balance, he also indicated that there was seating available at the feeding area seemed like a good idea.
As such, I opted to sit and wait at the feeding area, but after a while I got nervous – what if others had it nearby? As such, I joined the group around the area of scrub between the car-park and that around the feeding area.
It was quickly apparent that some of them at least had had it, but that was the easy bit. It was equally apparent that getting good views was going to be problematic given its elusive behaviour low in dense cover and my lack of agility and mobility.
For example, I managed to get very fleeting mainly naked eye or very obscured views before it flew over or past us into the scrub around the feeding area.
Here I again got very much less than satisfactory views as it moved around low in the cover and I moved around trying to find somewhere suitable to view it from amongst the gallery all whilst trying to stay upright.
I mused about what I might consider as ‘acceptable’ views. Traditionally, I guess, this would involve views in which it could be considered as ‘identifiable’. Anyway, I eventually decided that I would want to have decent enough views of its head (i.e., its fantastic eye-stripe and supercilium combo), if nothing else.
The bird had disappeared into the low cover to the left of the feeding area from where the gallery was assembled.
Given my unsteadiness, I opted to sit on one of two low benches at the rear of the gallery, but close to the scrub to the left and rear of the gallery.
At first this was frustrating as any chance of seeing the bird involved looking through or around intervening birders, but fantastically and conveniently the bird (which was evidently on a circuit) worked its way through the scrub alongside the viewing area to the scrub at the rear of the viewing area, meaning I had a front row seat. Even then, getting on it wasn’t easy, but I successfully did so, and quickly replaced my unsatisfactory views with satisfactory (and more than satisfactory) ones.
It briefly disappeared in the depths of the cover at the rear of the viewing area, but then reappeared again given good, if brief, views as it worked its way through the low cover. It gradually, but quite quickly, made its way back into the low cover to the left of the feeding area and I repositioned myself against a convenient rail next to Bret Richards. who it was fantastic to see again after all these years. This allowed me to get further good if brief views.
All the time it was being well and truly togged.
I was very pleased with myself; from very unpromising circumstances, I had managed to get very satisfactory views of an absolutely stonking bird!
I retreated for a relaxing coffee, exhilarated, before I returned in the hope of a repeat performance. By now (given the views it had given) the gallery had dispersed apart from the woman I had been sat next to who was clearly hoping for the same. Whilst waiting I social mediaed the heck out of it.
It failed to reappear, so I cut my losses, and decided that it was time to drive home.
The journey was just as long, but slightly quicker (excepting a pit-stop for fish and chips in Biggar, which took longer than anticipated). Certainly, otherwise, the journey passed much quicker than the outbound one as I had scored and I was exhilarated.
It was a superb looking thing, with a head pattern to die for. This involved a stonking creamy-white supercilium which, although thin and not all that in front of the eye, widened madly at the rear of the eye, before tapering off but flicking up towards the nape. This was all accentuated by the blackish green eyestripe which again flared behind the eye as the upper ear-coverts and up-flicked as it terminated abruptly in a straight line against the nape.
The crown and forehead were also blackish green and the lower ear-coverts were a mix of darker colouring and the coldish off-white of the entire underparts, excepting the area on the upper breast sides which also had some darker colouring. The upperparts were an olive-greeny shade not dissimilar to Arctic Warbler, with a faint white wing-bar created by the lighter tips of the greater coverts. However, there was a definite bronzy shade to at least the retrices and the remiges, which seemingly varied with the light conditions. The closed wing had Blyth’s Reed Warbler like bunching of the tertials.
The eye was largish looking and black. The bill was surprisingly heavy and vireo-like, with the lower mandible at least being horn coloured, and the upper part of the upper mandible being darker. The legs were whitish-pink, giving n effect like white stockings over pink legs. It was all a bit incongruous, in a White-legged Damselfly kind of way.
I heard it call too, particularly early on. It had what I would describe as a Chaffinch like, ‘pink’ call which was though, higher-pitched, and thinner than Chaffinch.
Just a very few days later, Ken and Amanda Shaw and I arrived in the Scillies via a long journey from Shetland which had taken in the Dalmatian Pelican en route, but, sadly for me, not the Hudsonian Godwit.
Along with Chris Pendlebury, we were staying in Rosenhill Cottage on St. Agnes between the 17th and the 24th October.
Obviously, it was fantastic to be on St. Agnes again, and all the better given that my very good mate Paul Pugh was staying in a flat at The Parsonage concurrently. Birding wasn’t necessarily fantastic but we changed it up with some rock-pooling, botanising (Lesser Adder’s Tongue) and ship-spotting (Queen Mary 2). Paul had the best views of what was very probably a juvenile Pallid Harrier and we all saw this, or another, harrier distantly over The Narrows, but unfortunately the record never saw the light of day, in part mired in the two-bird theory, as there was a ringtail Hen Harrier reported on St. Mary’s concurrently.
However, this all paled (sorry) into insignificance on the night of the 21st October, when Laurence Pitcher, Lee Amory, et al., brought a deceased Phyllosc in a plastic box to the Turk’s Head…… .
They were staying in one of the cottages owned by Fran Hicks, and explained that he had told them about a dead ‘Yellow-browed Warbler’ he had found beneath windows at the lighthouse. He had indicated that if they were interested in seeing it, he had placed in in a green waste bin. They had retrieved the corpse and then, as they had thought it was an Arctic Warbler, but ‘not quite right', they had posted images of it on social media. Very quickly certain people, including James Gilroy, Chris Batty and Andrew Holden, responded saying it was either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler.
Anyway, that night, the corpse was taken to the Turks Head, where, rather unceremoniously, the bird was generally passed around, prodded and / or examined and photographed by the assembled birders, perhaps some 25 or so. Conversely, the ‘finders’ wanted to give it a decent burial, and we all worked hard to persuade them that this was a very important record, and the specimen had to be properly preserved and retained for prosperity (let alone identified as either Pale-legged Leaf Warbler or Sakhalin Leaf Warbler using DNA!). Given the time elapsed, and the multiple handling involved, the specimen was already getting a bit squishy. However, all’s well that ends well, and the whole story, including the outcome of the DNA analysis, is properly written up here (unlike this nonsense):
https://britishbirds.co.uk/sites/default/files/2018_V111_N08_438-445_PaleleggedLeafWarbler.pdf
Pale-legged Leaf Warbler showing not so well amongst beer glasses, Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016 (photograph credited to Chris Pendlebury).
Exhibit A
(showing all the features!), Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016
(photographs credited to Paul Pugh).
Andy Carroll
doing the bird log in the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. “Er. Any
other species?”. (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).
It did indeed prove to be a Pale-legged Leaf Warbler.
So, as I recently saw the Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve bird, I now can claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased.
However, this isn’t the whole back-story.
Chris Pendlebury subsequently confided that the late afternoon before, when we had been looking into The Parsonage from the road alongside the school, he on my right, and David Bradshaw on my left, he had briefly seen what he thought might have been an Arctic Warbler, but hadn’t said anything as I was deep in conversation with David ,,,,,,,,, . Ho-hum!
We shall never know, but certainly this part of the story made me very keen to see a live Pale-legged Leaf Warbler and remove some of the hurt…… .
So, as I recently saw the Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve bird, I now can claim to be one of very, very few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that one was very much deceased.
However, this isn’t the whole back-story.
Chris Pendlebury subsequently confided that the late afternoon before, when we had been looking into The Parsonage from the road alongside the school, he on my right, and David Bradshaw on my left, he had briefly seen what he thought might have been an Arctic Warbler, but hadn’t said anything as I was deep in conversation with David ,,,,,,,,, . Ho-hum!
We shall never know, but certainly this part of the story made me very keen to see a live Pale-legged Leaf Warbler and remove some of the hurt…… .
Me
telling Andy Carroll some story about being this close to seeing a Pale-legged
Leaf Warbler near the Turks Head, St. Agnes, Scilly, October 2016. (Or
something like that 😊). (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).
For some (months and) weeks early autumn 2024, I had been somewhat preoccupied with, amongst other things, plans for celebrating the 90th anniversary of the Isle of May Bird Observatory.
This involved an on-island event planned for the exact day of the anniversary, 90 years to the day after the ‘Bird Boys’ founded the bird observatory on the 28th September 1934 to the very day.
Unfortunately, at 16:13 on the afternoon of Friday 27th September I received a ‘phone call from David Steel, the Reserve Manager on the Isle of May National Nature Reserve during which it was confirmed that the event (on Saturday at least) had been cancelled by Alex Gardner, the boatman responsible for the May Princess.
Consequently, I spent the next good while notifying all attendees of the cancellation, and determining whether they could make the rearranged sailing on Sunday the 29th September instead, liaising with the Chairman of the Bird Observatory, Alan Lauder and David Steel, preparing a new summary of attendees, etc..
As such, a RBA message at 17:55 possibly didn’t fully register, at least until much later.
The message said, “East Yorks probable Pale-legged Leaf Warbler Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm though elusive (for 3rd day; probably not Eastern Crowned Warbler)”.
A subsequent message at 18:42 said. “MEGA E. Yorks PALE-LEGGED LEAF WARBLER Bempton Cliffs RSPB in brambles near feeding station at 5:10 pm (identification confirmed from sound recording)”.
This was repeated at 18:44, and at 19:10 it was confirmed it was still there.
However, if not comatose at this point (I may well have gone for a lie down after re-organising everyone and everything for the 90th anniversary celebrations…. ) I might still have been unaware, or at least un-responsive.
After all, Saturday had only just been freed up by the cancellation (except that, as of earlier on Friday, a heating engineer was now coming to sort out my issue regarding the failure of the boiler to produce hot water early on the Saturday morning), and Sunday had only just been booked up. And anyway, it was a long way to go, would be utter chaos, and probably wouldn’t be there by the time I got there (it had been around since Wednesday the 25th September).
Plus, I have to admit, my worsening balance issue gave me real concerns about struggling to get adequate views of what was ‘clearly’ a very elusive bird in deep cover in amongst a big crowd of over-excited twitchers on potentially very uneven ground. Nah, that wouldn’t be good.
The (rearranged) Isle of May Bird Observatory 90th anniversary event on the island went well, and certainly pre-occupied me on both the Saturday and the Sunday, as did the Burnley v. Plymouth game on the Saturday, despite twelve positive news updates on the Saturday and seven on Sunday.
On Monday it was still around, but maybe the weekend’s events had taken it out of me, as I couldn’t get too enthusiastic about it, even though I knew I couldn’t go on the Tuesday as my car was booked into the garage to get the blowing exhaust and non-pumping front windscreen water-pump sorted, or at least, diagnosed.
By now others in my circle had caught up with it, and others were asking whether I had.
However, the bird had shown commendable stickability, and so I resolved to go on the Wednesday as soon as there was news. This there was at 08:01, and so I was in the car by 08.13, for the start of a truly epic day of driving. Google Maps took me south on the west side of the country and across to the east on the A66(T), which is always going to be a mixed blessing ever since I got the news of my Dad passing away when journeying back to Edinburgh via the A66(T) just a very few hours after seeing him in hospital. Anyway, a couple of hold ups excepted, it was a good (c.275 mile!) journey, although I had to stop to refuel (being almost entirely empty) within 20 miles of my destination.
The journey took longer than what was indicated on Google Maps, but I duly arrived just less than six hours after I had departed.
On arrival I parked up. It was immediately apparent that the scene of the crime incredibly was close by.
There were still plenty of birders twitching the bird but a hint of some “Johnny come lately’s” being there several days after the event, without too much idea (me included).
I wandered into the nearest part of the scattered throng alongside the car-park access road, and was briefly distracted by a Goldcrest-fest which was being togged (there may have been a Yellow-browed Warbler there too, in mitigation).
I decided that asking RSPB volunteer for his advice seemed like a good idea. He confirmed that the bird had recently been seen, and described the bird’s rough circuit.
When I expressed my concern about getting good views given my balance, he also indicated that there was seating available at the feeding area seemed like a good idea.
As such, I opted to sit and wait at the feeding area, but after a while I got nervous – what if others had it nearby? As such, I joined the group around the area of scrub between the car-park and that around the feeding area.
It was quickly apparent that some of them at least had had it, but that was the easy bit. It was equally apparent that getting good views was going to be problematic given its elusive behaviour low in dense cover and my lack of agility and mobility.
For example, I managed to get very fleeting mainly naked eye or very obscured views before it flew over or past us into the scrub around the feeding area.
Here I again got very much less than satisfactory views as it moved around low in the cover and I moved around trying to find somewhere suitable to view it from amongst the gallery all whilst trying to stay upright.
I mused about what I might consider as ‘acceptable’ views. Traditionally, I guess, this would involve views in which it could be considered as ‘identifiable’. Anyway, I eventually decided that I would want to have decent enough views of its head (i.e., its fantastic eye-stripe and supercilium combo), if nothing else.
The bird had disappeared into the low cover to the left of the feeding area from where the gallery was assembled.
Given my unsteadiness, I opted to sit on one of two low benches at the rear of the gallery, but close to the scrub to the left and rear of the gallery.
At first this was frustrating as any chance of seeing the bird involved looking through or around intervening birders, but fantastically and conveniently the bird (which was evidently on a circuit) worked its way through the scrub alongside the viewing area to the scrub at the rear of the viewing area, meaning I had a front row seat. Even then, getting on it wasn’t easy, but I successfully did so, and quickly replaced my unsatisfactory views with satisfactory (and more than satisfactory) ones.
It briefly disappeared in the depths of the cover at the rear of the viewing area, but then reappeared again given good, if brief, views as it worked its way through the low cover. It gradually, but quite quickly, made its way back into the low cover to the left of the feeding area and I repositioned myself against a convenient rail next to Bret Richards. who it was fantastic to see again after all these years. This allowed me to get further good if brief views.
All the time it was being well and truly togged.
I was very pleased with myself; from very unpromising circumstances, I had managed to get very satisfactory views of an absolutely stonking bird!
I retreated for a relaxing coffee, exhilarated, before I returned in the hope of a repeat performance. By now (given the views it had given) the gallery had dispersed apart from the woman I had been sat next to who was clearly hoping for the same. Whilst waiting I social mediaed the heck out of it.
It failed to reappear, so I cut my losses, and decided that it was time to drive home.
The journey was just as long, but slightly quicker (excepting a pit-stop for fish and chips in Biggar, which took longer than anticipated). Certainly, otherwise, the journey passed much quicker than the outbound one as I had scored and I was exhilarated.
It was a superb looking thing, with a head pattern to die for. This involved a stonking creamy-white supercilium which, although thin and not all that in front of the eye, widened madly at the rear of the eye, before tapering off but flicking up towards the nape. This was all accentuated by the blackish green eyestripe which again flared behind the eye as the upper ear-coverts and up-flicked as it terminated abruptly in a straight line against the nape.
The crown and forehead were also blackish green and the lower ear-coverts were a mix of darker colouring and the coldish off-white of the entire underparts, excepting the area on the upper breast sides which also had some darker colouring. The upperparts were an olive-greeny shade not dissimilar to Arctic Warbler, with a faint white wing-bar created by the lighter tips of the greater coverts. However, there was a definite bronzy shade to at least the retrices and the remiges, which seemingly varied with the light conditions. The closed wing had Blyth’s Reed Warbler like bunching of the tertials.
The eye was largish looking and black. The bill was surprisingly heavy and vireo-like, with the lower mandible at least being horn coloured, and the upper part of the upper mandible being darker. The legs were whitish-pink, giving n effect like white stockings over pink legs. It was all a bit incongruous, in a White-legged Damselfly kind of way.
I heard it call too, particularly early on. It had what I would describe as a Chaffinch like, ‘pink’ call which was though, higher-pitched, and thinner than Chaffinch.
Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Glynn Sellors).
Pale-legged Leaf Warbler, Bempton Cliffs RSPB Reserve, Bempton, East Yorkshire, October 2024 (photograph credited to Frank Goulding).
I really, really, really enjoyed the bird (it was one of the very best birds I've seen) and I was so glad I made the effort of going for it.
As such, I can rightfully claim to be one of very, very
few people who have seen two Pale-legged Leaf Warblers in Britain, albeit that
one was very much deceased. What a grip-back; back from the dead!
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