Northern Waterthrush – Heybridge, Maldon, Essex, 18^th January 2024

After the incredibly amazing, but immensely frustrating (I was in the wrong places at the wrong times and hence unable to get to the right places at the right times), super-flurry of North American wood warblers during autumn 2023, I had predicted that there would be one last bonus late in the year when North American wood warblers would be discovered wintering somewhere in the UK (a la the Golden-winged Warbler). It was a sound prediction. However, I was wrong, but only because this didn’t take place during late 2023…….. .

So it was that 2024 got off to a tremendous start. On Wednesday the 3rd January a local birder, Simon Wood, was dumbfounded to find a Northern Waterthrush in his garden in Heybridge, near Maldon, in deepest Essex. From the following day onwards, sightings of it settled into a pattern involving it generally being seen at least a couple of times each day when it visited a nearby creek to forage and bathe before flying back to the privacy of the gardens behind the houses which were alongside the nearby road. Its routine involved an early morning visit, and then perhaps a couple or more later on in the day.

I was enjoying some prolonged downtime at home (having been away for a high proportion of 2023) as I wasn’t returning to work at Castle Stuart, outside Inverness, until w/c 15th January). In many ways, it was the ideal time for me to go on a twitch, but I was somehow less than enthused, as deepest Essex was a long way from home, in several senses, and driving all that way ‘just’ to see a bird was increasingly passé.

I just didn’t fancy it as a drive. A few years earlier, it would have been a no-brainer when my father had still been alive, as I could have ‘staged’ in Chesterfield. And a few months earlier, it would have been a no-brainer when my best mate Gary still owned his flat in St. Albans, as I could have ‘staged’ there, but he had finally concluded the sale in October 2023….. .

So, initially at least, I discounted the idea of twitching it. However, gradually, as it ‘stuck’ and various mates connected with it and tweeted to advise the world so, I began to crack. In particular, a succession of my ‘Lockdown Listing’ mates on our Birding Bantering WhatsApp successfully twitched it – Jonny Holliday and Chris Griffin on Friday the 5th January and then Dennis Morrison (plus his son James and friend John Forbes) and David Steel on Saturday the 13th January. In addition, Bernie Beck travelled for it on Friday the 12th January.

This all subtly changed the dynamic. If Dennis could twitch it from Edinburgh, why couldn’t I?

In addition, I was encouraged by the David Steel, and so I decided I could do it…. .

The day he and Dennis posted their news (and images) on Birding Bantering I had posted, “Hummmm” and, “FFS” on the same group. Later that day, after Steely had messaged me direct saying, “Sorry Brian. I’m in Hull so left from there this morning so wasn’t an opportunity to join up to twitch. It’s worth it”, I responded by saying, “Hiya Steely. My comment wasn’t aimed at you or Dennis, but related to my inability to sort something. I have a plan now, but need it to stick around for a week……😲".

This delay referred to the fact that I was already committed to working on the second golf course project at Cabot Highlands (Castle Stuart) during the w/c 15th January.

I travelled there on Monday the 15th January, as we had scheduled an important meeting on Tuesday the 16th January. My journey from South Queensferry to outside Inverness on the M90 and A9(T) and A96(T) was fine, as although there had been overnight snow, this was only apparent at higher altitudes.

However, there was more snow further east along the A96(T), and as a result the person we were meeting cancelled on the Tuesday, as he didn’t fancy travelling from Forres in the conditions involved. As such, having already addressed other pertinent matters whilst on-site, I had the option of travelling back to South Queensferry on the afternoon / evening of the 16th. However, it started snowing that afternoon and, as such, rather than tackling the A9(T) in snow and in the dark, I opted to stay over for an extra night in my luxurious accommodation whilst working at Cabot Highlands, Castle Cottage.

My provisional game plan involved using Gary’s place in Barrowford, East Lancashire, as my staging post on the long, long journey south. As such, I had primed Gary with a WhatsApp on the Monday, suggesting there was a lot of ifs, buts and maybes (including how long I would be working near Inverness, whether there would be any snow to complicate travel, and, not least, whether the object of my quest would survive long enough) but, all things being equal, I was planning on travelling to see it via Barrowford later in the week.

So I reasoned even if I had driven to South Queensferry on the Tuesday, I would still have to drive from there to Barrowford on the Wednesday, and so it made sense to delay my departure until the following morning (when the weather was forecast to be bright and sunny), rather than risk tackling the A9(T) in snow and in the dark, and then complete the long drive from Inverness to Barrowford, in relatively easy conditions.

That was the plan. So it was that soon after 08:00 on the Wednesday morning (after a reasonably night’s rest) I departed Castle Cottage.

The snow had continued during the night and as such the drive to and through the automatic gates along the tree lined avenue between the cottage and the B9039 was on virgin snow. I negotiated this (and the reluctant to fully open gates) without any real problems and edged onto the unploughed and un-gritted B9039. This involved more tricky driving conditions, but by driving suitably slowly I (and other users of the road) safely made our way.

The A96(T) and the A9(T) were suitably ploughed and gritted, and as such, in terms of snow and ice, driving was much less tricky. However, although I had carefully prepared the car both before leaving South Queensferry and Castle Stuart (I’d pumped up the tyres, filled up with petrol, and ensured the screen-wash was topped up) there was problem, a significant problem, that made driving very tricky. Overnight temperatures had been very low, and despite my best efforts, the screen-wash was frozen solid, and I couldn’t get it to work. And there was a lot of salty spray, meaning that my wind-screen frequently became very smeared. This necessitated stopping to clean the windscreen with the water I had available as a contingency, but this was problematic, as the lay-bys on the A9(T) were hard to stop in (partly as I couldn’t see them coming and partly as they hadn’t necessarily been cleared of snow).

I had to get inventive, and resorted to using the spray from vehicles I was following and / or which were oncoming to provide some water to facilitate using the windscreen wipers. But it was all very fraught, and all the more so because of the low, bright winter sun I was frequently driving into. Frankly, it was dangerous, as my viewing through the windscreen was often badly obscured by the smeared salt and dirt. But there was no way the screen-wash was going to thaw out; as I drove through southern Speyside to car’s thermometer registered -16^OC.

As such, the drive from Inverness to Perth and beyond was an ordeal, but thankfully the screen-wash did eventually at least partially thaw, such that I could effectively use the windscreen wipers.

I continued on the A9(T) beyond Perth, and then joined the M9 and the M80. I struggled to navigate from the M80/M73 to the M74, but otherwise, thankfully, the second part of my journey between Castle Stuart and Barrowford was a lot easier. All the same, the entire journey took eight hours, a long, long drive. The roads had one last surprise for me as I neared my destination, when, to my surprise, I discovered that the A682 between Gisburn and Barrowford hadn’t been ploughed and gritted, which meant that the some of the last few miles involved the snowiest / iciest driving conditions of my entire journey!

I finally arrived in Barrowford soon after 16:00 and immediately filled the car up with petrol and purchased some screen-wash at a nearby service station, and also filled my emergency water container.

After a relatively quiet evening with Gary involving a couple of pints in the fantastic Lamb working man’s club after my take-away steak pudding, chips, mushy peas and gravy (I’d moved into twitching food mode) I retired to bed, planning to get up and go early if I was awake, but otherwise to get up and go when the alarm went off.

This was at 07:00; I didn’t get up early as although I woke at various times during the night, I really didn’t fancy driving at 04:00 in the morning. So it was, by 07:15 I was on the road, taking the M65, and then the A56 and M66 to the M62, and then the M62 to the A1(M) / A1.

I briefly stopped at a service station north of Grantham to have a bowl of breakfast cereal before continuing on. My route involved taking the A14 to the M11 and then, from near Bishop’s Stortford taking various roads deeper into deepest Essex. Eventually, at about 12:45, I duly arrived in Heybridge.

For the latter part of my journey, I used the directions option on the Rare Bird Alert app (basically a link to Google Maps) to navigate my way to my destination. I was aware there was a suggestion that birders shouldn’t park in the residential road in order to minimise any issues with local residents, and so I opted to park in the car-park at the relatively nearby Bentalls Shopping Centre.

Having done so, I quickly clambered out of the car and into my coat, and assembled my gear – gloves, notebook, binoculars, camera, telescope and tripod, etc..

Fairly sure I had passed the entrance to the road in question, I quickly (or as quickly as I can nowadays!) walked back towards it. I asked two women coming the other way if they knew where birders had been going, and gratifyingly they broadly confirmed my suspicions and indicated where the road involved was.

I quickly crossed the main road and continued off along the road indicated, although it looked less than promising, as it was flanking by various industrial units, etc., which didn’t look very good in terms of Northern Waterthrush habitat. Outside one of them (which proved to be within 3 or 400 metres of my destination) I asked someone who worked at one of the units the same question, but he was completely oblivious, unhelpfully. Now acting solely on blind instinct, I continued on, and thankfully things started looking more promising very quickly. To the right of the road there was an area of open land, which proved to be either side of a drainage ditch which was at the head of Heybridge Creek. And as I crossed over the ditch on the road, birders were visible standing on the embankment of a culverted crossing of the same ditch some 100 metres downstream, Hurray! I was in the right place!!

I quickly navigated my way along a track to join them, and set up my ‘scope at the nearer end of the scattered gathering on some 15 birders scattered along the embankment of the culverted crossing. Some were seated on part of the culvert structure, and all looked less than focussed. I asked the two closest to me when it had last been seen, and was informed that it hadn’t been seen again since the initial sighting early that morning. Not good. I reluctantly continued my conversation with the two birders next to me, but was less than impressed to find that unlike me, they had travelled a relatively short way. I explained that I had been in Inverness at 08:00 the previous morning, and was asked whether I had travelled all that way just to see the bird. Less than impressed, I retorted, ‘Why else would I be here????’

My demeanour wasn’t helped by the need to, er, empty my bladder, and as I weighed up my options, I also began to resign myself to having to stop over if the bird didn’t show. Coming all that way and then leaving without seeing it wasn’t an option, I’d have to stay somewhere local and be on site before daylight the following day.

Having both ensured my ‘scope was in focus and checked out the drainage ditch with my 

binoculars in an attempt to be ready, should it suddenly appear, I skulked off back along the track and then along another one branching off it, adjacent to which there were sufficient hawthorn bushes to largely obscure me from the gathered birders and the adjacent houses whilst I did the necessary.

Relief!!! Massive relief. (@1)

I returned to my station and resumed my vigil, checking out the banks of the ditch and getting my eye in with the various Robins, House Sparrows, etc..

At least now I could concentrate, and as such, I felt a tad more optimistic.

And with some justification, as within a very few minutes a bird flew in, and with very little commotion the assembled crowd realised it was the Northern Waterthrush (I recall someone very quietly and calmly saying, ‘That’s it’ or similar).

Anyway, I was on it, and it was on (my list)!

Relief!!! Massive relief. (@2)

It had dropped into the drainage channel immediately below the culverted crossing, and as such was within a few metres of me and the rest of the assembled gallery.

Almost immediately it appeared, a local couple who were clearly interested in seeing it, also arrived. The woman approached me and asked (in a normal voice) whether the bird was there. I (politely) sssshhhhed her as I was concerned that any unexpected noise might flush the bird. The gallery had been impressively, respectfully, virtually silent despite the bird suddenly appearing for the first time in hours. Gratifyingly so, given what it could have been like.

Being right down below us, feeding unobtrusively along the margins of the ditch or, indeed in the entrance to the culvert, the bird wasn’t necessarily always on view or easy to locate, so I, firstly, helped the woman get on it, and then, secondly, when they swapped places, the man get on it. This largely involved suggesting they should stand on the other side of me and then, as necessary, giving directions. As such, they both duly saw it, he, in particular, lucking out, as, outrageously, it appeared before him on the concrete headwall of the culvert itself immediately in front of him. This was very gratifying, as I felt I had done my bit for local relations.

However, meanwhile, I was very careful to make sure I was also taking the bird in as best as I could. As suggested, it was often out of sight beneath the culvert headwall or the near bank of the drainage ditch, too close, and when it was in view, I did spend some time unsuccessfully faffing around trying to get some photos.

However, albeit briefly, it also flirted itself outrageously, floosy-like, which allowed me to give it a good grilling in the ‘scope at ranges of 10 – 20 m or so. It flitted about from one place to the other searching for food in the drainage ditch, often using remnants of aquatic vegetation still above the surface of the partially frozen drainage ditch as perches whilst doing so. Particularly when it did this a little further away along the channel of the ditch, I was able to give it a good grilling with the (zoomed down) ‘scope.

Almost as suddenly as it had appeared it suddenly disappeared, flying off back towards the gardens from whence it had appeared.

I, and everyone else in the well-behaved crowd, knew it was time to take our leave too. Presumably a good proportion of those there had braved the bitterly cold conditions for several hours, and, as there was no guarantee it would be back anytime soon, decided to cut their losses and leave.

Conversely, I’d been there less than half an hour, but I wasn’t going to see it any better, even if it did return, and I had another long drive ahead of me. So, I too decide to leave to seek somewhere more comfortable and some sustenance and then commence the long drive back. I’d noted there was an Asda adjacent to the car-park where I had parked and planned to get something to eat and drink there. However, on arriving back at the car I noticed there was also a café there, and this proved to be ideal. It was Turkish-run, and besides providing perfect twitch fodder (a large portion of egg and chips) I also enjoyed talking to one of the owners about coming to see the bird and working in Turkey.

Having consumed my egg and chips, and roughly sketched the bird, I returned to the car, and commenced the long drive back to Barrowford. Incredibly, I had been in Heybridge for less than a couple of hours when I departed. It was around 14:30 when I started back, again using Google Maps to navigate back trunk roads / motorways.

Once again, I stopped at the services north of Grantham to (partially, at motorway prices!) top up with petrol. Other than back-logged traffic on the A1(M) approaching the M62, the journey went well, and I was back in Barrowford almost exactly twelve hours after I had departed. I’d ‘phoned Gary to indicate I would be very keen on having a celebratory pint or two, so we went to the fantastic Banker’s Draft real ale pub nearby to do so, before having the potato and bacon bake he’d prepared in his slow-cooker. An excellent end to a more than excellent day. Whilst in the pub, I tried to explain to Gary the sheer euphoria I experience when I see a new bird (something that increases as my list does). To do so, and to try to help him understand, I compared it with the euphoria he and I would experience from seeing Burnley very unexpectedly win away from home, in, for example, a cup tie against a nominally much better team. He refuted that seeing a bird could provide such joy, but I liked my analogy.

I was ecstatic though, after all, to have another Yank warbler on my list and after such a truly epic drive.

So, besides being late to the party in terms of only finally seeing it more than two weeks after it had first turned up, I was also very late to the party in terms of catching up with the autumn 2023 ‘influx’ of North American wood warblers.

Of course, in birding (okay, twitching), as in life, you make your own luck, but if ever there was an opportunity to add to my ‘North American wood warblers list’ it was autumn 2023, which, as is evidenced in the accompanying table, was a completely unprecedented North American wood warbler -fest.  That I hadn’t connected with any as a result of continually being in the wrong place and the wrong time felt, at the very least, a tad unlucky. (Not that the influx necessarily involved birds which were ‘easy’ to twitch from Central Scotland, but all the same…..).

* Nominally! Theoretically, seven additional North American wood warbler species (and in some instances more than one individual of!) were ‘available‘ to add to my existing six species in autumn 2023. However, although some of these were relatively long-staying, as ever, they were mainly on islands which were difficult to access. Moreover, in autumn 2023 I was on the Isle of May between the 2nd and 9th September, Lewis between the 16th and 23rd September, mainland Shetland between the 2nd and 6th October and Scilly between the 14th and 23rd October (and working between times) so I was never quite in the right place at the right time. This ‘co-ordinated (nominal) dipping’ meant that the Northern Waterthrush was a very welcome ‘late autumn’ bonus.

As such, that I eventually did so as a result of a truly epic twitch the following winter made my euphoria all the more so. There’s just something about North American wood warblers, and I was ecstatic to get another on my list.

Hastily moving on from the superficial ‘North American wood warbler meets pipit’ analogy, the bird was largish (for a North American wood warbler), with a shortish tail, and stoutish bill and legs. The entire upperparts, including the upper-tail and wings, were dark brown (and, apart from the head, entirely unmarked), whereas the underparts were buffish-white and heavily streaked with dark brown streaking. The head pattern included a very long buffish-white supercilium which reached the nape. The overall head pattern was strongly reminiscent of Redwing. The bill was thick-based and tapered to a sharp tip and was horn / dark horn in colour. The legs were bubble-gum pink in colour. It energetically bobbed and flicked its tail, and frequently flew from place to place, including vegetation sticking up above the water / ice, searching for food.

Northern Waterthrush, Heybridge, Maldon, Essex, January 2024 (back of the camera photograph credited Dennis Morrison).

 Zitting Cisticola – Corporation Marsh, Walberswick, Suffolk, 17^th August 2026

As described in the equivalent post relating to Black-winged Kite, by 2026, the fortunate juxtaposition of the now confirmed as breeding Zitting Cisticolas (or Fan-tailed Warblers in old money!) at Corporation Marsh, Walberswick, Suffolk, and the long-staying Black-winged Kite at various sites in and around the Broads in Norfolk (and the home of my old birding mate Mike Thompson in nearby Reydon) always meant that twitching the Zitting Cisticolas was a matter of when, not if.

Overdue? Maybe. The first of what proved to be a pair at Corporation Marsh in 2025 was seemingly the eleventh ever, following the first and second in Norfolk and Dorset as long ago as 1976 and 1977 respectively, before a long interlude to further records in Dorset, in 2000 (two), Kent, in 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2024 (of which only the 2000 Dorset and 2009 Kent birds were actually twitchable).

Anyway, after a very obvious and sensible news curfew whilst they were breeding, news of what was probably two fledged broods of birds (plus attendant adults) emerged on the 7th August 2026. And just over a week later I was scheduled to be in Northumberland for Steely’s 50th bash, which conveniently placed me two hours into a very long journey to East Anglia…… .

As it was, having stayed overnight at a Premier Inn near Norwich Airport (having duly seen the Black-winged Kite at Sea Palling the evening before), after breakfast on Monday the 17th August 2026, I journeyed from Norwich to Reydon. Mike had convinced me to go to Walberswick with him rather than going there direct from Norwich and then going to see him, as I had originally intended, as I’d not wanted to inflict the tedium of seeing the Zitting Cisticolas on him (thinking he would have had quite enough of the same).

I arrived at Mike’s before 10:30, and having been introduced to Lindsey, and briefly caught up, we departed for the beach car-park in Walberswick. Having successfully reached the car-park, parked up and negotiated paying using RingGo, we then gathered our gear and walked broadly south-west and ultimately along the sand dune and shingle ridge at the rear of the beach to the viewing point overlooking Corporation Marsh. It was by now 11:30, and so we were on-site around midday. Perhaps not the best, but…. .

There was a small gaggle of birders already on-site, including one of Mike’s local birding friends, Alastair Baird, and we quickly joined them. I opted to sit on the steepest part of the shingle bank next to a birder who seemed to know what he was about, as he relatively frequently had his ’scope trained on a bird that was showing, and occasionally gave some sort of directions.

My new Swarovski Balance ‘scope and Manfrotto walking pole / monopod combination proved ideal for sitting on the shingle bank. That said, I failed to locate any Zitting Cisticolas (excepting a possible group of three moving about in the vegetation at the base of an embankment on the far side of the marsh); it wasn’t easy, and any helpful shouts dried up.

However, there was then a shout from those at the other end of the gallery. Mike and Alastair made their way there, but I opted to stay where I was, partly as getting up and moving would have been a faff, and also as I was confident the birder alongside me was still getting on birds. Surely it was only a matter of time?

It was, but not as I had envisaged. Having been at the other end of the gallery for some while, Mike shouted me across, as one of those involved had a bird in his ‘scope. I struggled to my feet and made them walk in roughly that direction. On arrival, someone else was attempting to blag a quick look through the ‘scope involved, but fair play to its owner, he indicated I should have a look first.

Which I did.

And there it was, a Zitting Cisticola sitting at the top of some vegetation! Hurrah! No sooner had I seen it (well enough) than it launched vertically out of view. No matter! I’d seen it. Finally(?), Zitting Cisticola was on my list.

I was suitably pleased and gratefully thanked the birder concerned. This quickly turned into a small world conversation with he and his mates, as it emerged that they had travelled from Central Lancashire and variously then referenced Burscough, Ormskirk and Wigan, plus Graham Workman and the recently ‘arsoned’ John Bull Chophouse! Other than the latter, it was really good craic.

Mike, Alastair and I decided to cut our losses, and walked back to Walberswick, moved my car in view of the incoming tide, and then continued on to the excellent Black Dog Deli in Walberswick for a well desired cake and coffee.

Having reacquainted myself with Zitting Cisticola in the marshes south of Montpellier in November 2025, the bird ‘just was’. However, here goes, it was a tiny warbler, with generally warm buff plumage and strong streaking on the upperparts, a plain face, finer brown streaking on the crown and pink legs.

Zitting Cisticola habitat, August 2026.

Zitting Cisticola, Corporation Marsh, Walberswick, Suffolk, August 2026 (photograph credited to David Bryant).

 Black-winged Kite – Sea Palling, Norfolk, 16^th August 2026

I saw Black-winged Kite in both Morocco in December 1991 / January 1992 and in Egypt in December 1995 / January 1996 (and, if I’m being old-fashioned, I also saw White-tailed Kite in Texas in April 1992!).

A sketch of my first Black-winged Kite in Morocco in December 1991.

Now, I try hard not to have favourite birds (where would you begin, and where would you end?) but Black-winged Kite would be RIGHT up there.

As such, the prospect of getting Black-winged Kite on my British List has always been an appealing one, albeit one that was a very remote prospect until 30 or 35 years after those encounters in North Africa.

In this context, the BBRC Report for 2023 describes how Black-winged Kite was amongst the most hotly tipped next firsts for Britain for many years. It notes the chances of one turning up seemingly increased in the preceding couple of decades or so, with records in northern France, the Channel Islands, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark and Sweden.

It continues that this gave the impression that the species’ arrival in Britain was imminent; but British birders waited, and they waited... and they waited. It speculates that perhaps, as with so many raptors, the relatively short hop the Channel was too far, but observes that the English Channel is just 32 km wide at its narrowest, and birds were proven to cross the Skaggerak from Denmark to Sweden, involving a sea crossing of at least 60 km.

It then describes how, after an earlier false start, there was a report of a probable, seen from a vehicle on the A14 at Kirton, Suffolk, on the 16th April 2023, but this was considered ‘Not Proven’. However, coincidentally or not, a definite Black-winged Kite was then located and videoed near the A489 in Newton, Montgomeryshire just two days later, on the 18th April 2023.

Ultimately, this became the first British record. Although it couldn’t be relocated, three months later a bird was sighted on Brayden Marshes between Hickling Broad and Horsey Mere, Norfolk, on the 17th July 2023 where it remained until the 20th, making a visit to Trimingham on the 18th, before moving to Felixstowe Ferry, Suffolk, between the 20th and 21st July 2023 and St. Oysth Marsh, Essex between the 21st and 23rd July 2023.

The majority of voters on both BOURC and BBRC considered all these sightings to be of the same bird, and further, the decision about the age of the bird erred on the side of caution and so it a 1CY+, i.e., age unknown.

Whilst, in principle, this bird would have been twitchable in Norfolk, Suffolk or Essex, in practice this had proved a trip too far. Maybe I’d already realised that if I wanted Black-winged Kite on my British List I had to plan a (very) long game.

This proved to be the case. There was no repeat performance in 2024; no records of Black-winged Kite occurred. However, in 2025, there was a broadly similar series of records, just perhaps hinting at a returning bird (although no such decision has yet been made by BBRC).

After a possible was reported at Exminster Marshes, Devon on the 18th May 2025, a definite was sighted at Frampton (and nearby Slimbridge), Gloucestershire on the 20th August 2025. Whether the same bird or not, later in the same year it (or another) was again recorded in Norfolk, at Hickling between the 7th and the 11th September, and at Ludham between the 26th December and the New Year.

In 2026 this bird continued to be seen in the same area of Norfolk – at Ludham until the 4th January, Horsey (and also Brograve Levels), between the 7th January and the 3rd February, back at Ludham between the 8th and the 23rd March, at Sea Palling on the 12th April, at Hempstead Marshes between the 8th May and the 12th June and back at Sea Palling from the 13th June onwards.

This consistent series of reports clearly moved the prospect of twitching the bird into realms of the ‘achievable’, especially so when combined with the news of Zitting Cisticola’s having successfully bred at Corporation Marsh, Walberswick, Suffolk conveniently close to the home of my old birding mate Mike Thompson in nearby Reydon. News about these birds slowly emerged from the 3rd August 2025 onwards; within three weeks news of a singing male had been replaced by news of successful breeding, and so again, twitching both was very achievable.

In the event, nothing happened; although I alerted Mike Thompson about the cisticolas and he successfully twitched them, any vague plans Steely and I had to twitch these two ‘megas’ when he was ‘on shore’ from the Isle of May during the mid-November to mid-March period remained just that.

Moving on, and in late-summer 2026, I was still biding my time, aware that the lack of reports of Zitting Cisticolas from Corporation Marsh after the 8th May 2026 was much more to do with another breeding attempt taking place there than ‘no news either way’.

Almost exactly a year after news of the Zitting Cisticolas had first emerged, reports of what was probably two fledged broods of birds (plus attendant adults) emerged on the 7th August 2026. Game on?

As luck would have it, I’d long had an invite to a bash in Seahouses / Beadnell in Northumberland on Saturday the 15th August to celebrate Steely’s 50th birthday, which was on the 12th August. This involved a boat trip around the Farnes and a hog roast at the Craster Arms in Beadnell.

This would conveniently place me two hours into a seven plus hour journey to Sea Palling, so I slowly resolved to go for it, booking accommodation at a Premier Inn in Norwich on the night of Sunday the 16th August (as well as at Mike’s in Reydon on the following night, and Gary’s in Barrowford on the return journey).

Having very much enjoyed the celebrations the day before, I left my accommodation in Seahouses sometime after 09:00 to commence the long drive from Northumberland to Norfolk.

I stopped at Wetherby Services on the A1(M) for a very belated granola and yoghurt and croissant Pret a Manger breakfast (so late they had stopped doing bacon rolls) and fuel and at a service station on the A17 south of Boston for more fuel, but otherwise it was a long (and uneventful) drive. I snacked on my prepared salad and lump of cheese to keep me going through the tedium of the A47 through East Anglia. That said, travelling this way to Norfolk was at least a little nostalgic. Typically, as I reached the final hour or so of my long journey, the journey around Norwich and beyond to Sea Palling through the Broads became particularly trying, due to large-scale roadworks around Norwich and never-ending rural roads beyond.

Anyway, by around 18:00 I had navigated my way beyond Sea Palling to the viewing location at a double gate alongside the very minor road just inland of the sand dunes north of Sea Palling.

So long in the car had done nothing for my mobility, but I quickly(?) assembled my gear and commenced scanning for the kite. Beyond the gate I was looking out over fields and marshes with shelterbelts, hedges, ditches and an overhead electricity line. There was a lot of suitable habitat, and more of the same continued for miles around. Where to look? What if it was elsewhere? I constantly scanned with both my binoculars and my relatively new Swarovski Balance ‘scope and Manfrotto walking pole / monopod combination, but …… .

Fortunately, a birder on a bike soon arrived. This proved to be Tim Allwood, who very successfully birds the TG42 10 km grid square within which we were located, and as such, as he suggested, sees the kite virtually every day. Salvation!!!!

After we had had an initial chat, Tim wandered off around the edge of the field to our left to (I suspect) check out a roost site of the kite. On his return, we were joined by another local birder / togger armed with the world’s largest bridge camera. Again, we generally chatted, before Tim cycled off to check areas further to the north. My scanning had produced two Kestrels, a Marsh Harrier and a Buzzard, but not the object of my quest. The old boy birder / togger was able to provide some consolatory advice about it typically suddenly appearing after being out of sight for ages, and also mainly being seen early in the morning and the evening (together with the times he had first seen it on previous evenings) but I was less than optimistic. My preferred game plan did not involve coming back for it the following morning, but things weren’t looking good.

However, in fairness to the old boy, he suddenly calmly announced that the kite was showing. Unfortunately, (and diplomatically…..) my understanding of his directions was not good. He described the bird being on the overhead wires beyond the third overhead electricity wires pole, but when I followed these instructions all I could see was a Kestrel, which caused a few increasingly terse comments between us. However, it eventually emerged that he meant the first three overhead electricity wires poles diverging away from the line of the nearer poles in the middle distance, and on finally grasping this, there it was, sat it full (if distant) view!!!!

Wowser!!!

I was able to take it in at leisure, as, apart from one brief flight I caught the back end of, it remained on view throughout the remainder of my stay. It was possibly up to c.900 m away(?) but there was no haze and the light was still reasonable, and the clarity (even when zoomed up to 45x) of my new ‘scope was incredible. Thus, even the dark eye patch was visible, despite the range involved.

I thanked the old boy togger / birder who departed soon afterwards, but not before Tim Allwood had returned. Whilst continuing to take in the bird, I then I chatted to Tim, a top bloke, at some length, discovering the usual fascinating inter-connections, including an eclectic Javier Caletrio, Stuart Green, David Steel – all very enjoyable. We were joined by a couple who I got onto the bird and were extremely grateful, as it was their umpteenth time of looking. Tim also provided me with a recommendation for a local pub to have a celebratory pint and meal before returning to Norwich; The Greyhound in Hickling. In the event this wasn’t quite as successful as it might have been as they weren’t doing food as it was the quiz night, and the gathered clientele included an element of ‘mediaeval woodcut’ but it was the thought that counted (and the old boy had refused all together to give me any such recommendation!).

Oh, a description of the bird? As above. Just wowser!!!!

Black-winged Kite habitat, August 2026.

Black-winged Kite, Hickling, Norfolk, March 2026 – image chosen as it is similar to the views I had at Sea Palling (photograph credited to David Bryant).

White-throated Sparrow – Willingham Woods, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, 24^th February 1993

White-throated Sparrow, Isle of May, Fife, August 2026. I've always been very struck by the apparent convergent evolution of New World Sparrows such as White-throated and White-crowned (in particular) and Old World Buntings such as Yellow-browed (in particular) in terms of the head pattern. Why? What's the ecological advantage?

After having to decline the Suffolk bird the previous year (there had been one at Trimley St Mary for a week or so in late May / early June) and having had to be ‘blasé’ about this one for several weeks as I couldn’t work an opportunity, I journeyed ‘home’ from a visit to see my father in Chesterfield via Willingham Woods near Market Rasen for the long-staying White-throated Sparrow there. This had first been trapped and ringed on the 5th December 1992 but had then proved to be a long-stayer.... .

By now I had a pager, and so I knew it was there the previous day courtesy of my new toy. As such, I arrived with high expectations, and all the more so when I was advised it was still there.

The adrenalin was still flowing all the same as I walked towards the scene of my latest twitch. Once there I was confronted (not literally, but maybe figuratively) by a small brassica field in a clearing within the plantation, adjacent to a small cottage. I assume now this was some sort of game cover crop.

The footpath diverged along the back of a tall hawthorn hedge alongside the field, and through the middle of the brassica field. On the field side of this hedge a mixed flock of finches plus were feeding. Birders stood amongst the brassica, watching the base of the hedge, where birds were feeding unobtrusively. So much so, that it took me ages to get onto the bird itself, partly due to my attempt to get to a better viewing place by positioning myself at the base of a hawthorn in the hedge running perpendicular to the main one.

I re-joined the group to eventually be rewarded by sightings (usually very brief) of the bird as it emerged into the grass and brassica at the edge of the field. During this time, the militant birder in me re-emerged. Throughout proceedings the birders were noisy, and the birds flighty. My demeanour was stretched to breaking point when some halfwit snapped a twig, at which point I also snapped. I abruptly asked him if he had to do that and suggested he had no idea and was brain dead, as you do.

However, back then, to the bird. It was unobtrusive, and views were brief. During this time a bird very roughly analogous with an accentor / bunting cross showing a black and off-white head pattern, but little yellow was noted – otherwise it was strangely reminiscent of Dunnock! It had a buff wing-bar created by the tips of the greater coverts. The upper-parts were otherwise mid-brown with a dark streaked back, and the under-parts were pale grey-brown, faintly streaked with dark brown.

The whole experience wasn’t very rewarding and wasn’t as exciting as looking through flocks of Zonotrichia sparrows in California for Golden-crowned or Harris’s Sparrows..... . But that’s another story.

As is seeing my second, one for my Scottish, and indeed Isle of May, lists, in August 2026 after my very good friend David Steel, the National Nature Reserve Manager on the Isle of May, excelled himself by finding just the first Yank passerine (and third Yank) for the Isle of May, just a couple of days before I arrived to facilitate a Bird Observatory Committee ‘Gathering’ on the island. As such, I was able to take in the bird in excellent company three days running and commence the ‘Gathering’ with a committee twitch, as you do.

Game cover habitat shot, Willingham Woods.

White-throated Sparrow, Willingham Woods, Lincolnshire, winter 1991-92 (photograph credited to unknown).

White-throated Sparrow, Willingham Woods, Lincolnshire, winter 1991-92 (photograph credited to unknown).

White-throated Sparrow, Isle of May. Fife. August 2026 (photograph credited to Will Cresswell).

 Red-breasted Goose – Caerlaverock Wildfowl and Wetlands Reserve, Caerlaverock, Dumfries and Galloway, 6^th October 1991

Sunday the 6th October 1991. Tomorrow is another day. Within a day of attempting a Red-breasted Goose at Inner Marsh Farm (and within seven days of my fateful trip to Sumburgh for the Sandhill Crane; I’m giving up birding and all of that),

I went to Caerlaverock with Neil Tasker, having seen him at Inner Marsh Farm, for this, a far more credible bird. After we had worked for it very hard for 2.5 to 3.0 hours and obtained two flight views of it amongst large flocks of Barnacle Geese it finally succumbed.

The flight views were very skilfully obtained from the tower hide by watching distant flocks as they moved, eliminating Barnacle Geese and picking out the goodie, as it was smaller, darker and quicker in flight than its hosts.

Finally, after teasing us for ages, it was located in a feeding flock of Barnacle Geese near one of the towers and once located here it was predictably obvious. It made itself more so by being separate from the flock for most of the time, indeed Barnacle Geese shied away from it.

It was well ‘scoped whilst resting and feeding and the stunning pattern was sketched (as it couldn’t really be described!).

Best of all, it looked wild!

Not something I’ve seen subsequently (partly as, conveniently, I didn’t need it for Scotland!) but I have since seen one on the Belgium/Netherlands border.

Red-breasted Goose, polders north-east of Antwerp, Belgium, March 2022 (photograph credited to Paul Pugh).

Sykes’s Warbler – Druridge Bay Country Park, near Hadston, Northumberland, 16^th August 2010

This bird was identified, and the news was duly released, too late on Sunday the 15th August 2010 for me to do anything. Anything other than plan to go the following day excepted that is; it certainly clarified my plans for the start of the ‘working’ week.

So it was that on the morning of Monday the 16th August, once positive news had been forthcoming, that I journeyed from Edinburgh. Druridge Bay Country Park was some two hours away, and I imagine I received comforting positive news updates during my journey.

Now, as has been alluded to, we had very definitely entered the era of rudimentary notes (if any notes at all) and other than the fact that I saw it on the 16th August all I have to go on is a rough sketch I made during (or following?) my successful visit. And my memories, vague though they are.

Basically, I remember being part of the gathered group of birders watching this stonking bird from an access route near that main car-park as it moved through the scrub vegetation on a mature dune ridge between us and the sea. At times it was above our sight-line feeding in vegetation on the crest of the dune and indeed, flying along the dune ridge itself. Particularly at these times it appeared like a distinctive, if very subtle, Hippolais type warbler.

It was a pale sandy-brown colour overall, with paler under-parts than upper-parts. It looked to be quite large, but this was a mislaeading impression, possibly due to the long body shape and tail.

To me it looked particularly long-billed, and I noted the bill was a thin, pointy one. I also noted the beady, smallish looking dark eye and pale face. It had a poorly defined supercilium mainly behind the eye, and the empty face appearance of some Hippolais warblers.

This was the thirteenth for Britain, and fair play to the finder and those who convinced him that he had indeed found one of the biggest i.d. challenges on the British list.

Sykes’s Warbler at Druridge Bay Country Park, August 2010 (photograph credited to Tim Mason).

Sykes’s Warbler at Druridge Bay Country Park, August 2010 (photographs credited to Stef McElwee).

 Sora – Attenborough Nature Reserve, Attenborough, Nottingham, Nottinghamshire, 22^nd December 2004

Sora sketch attempting and failing to convey just how dark it was in the depths of mid-winter.

Another! What an autumn / early winter. This one (which was perhaps long overdue) first offered itself up at mid-afternoon on Sunday the 12th December when the mega-alert went off on the pager, and so I very slowly commenced my plotting soon afterwards. This certainly reflected how complicated life had become! The detail provided here is given to illustrate this new complexity.

Whatever, my response was indeed positively tardy. Perhaps I was still basking in the glory of the flourish of late autumn 2004, or perhaps I was just too busy. More likely I knew that a scheme would emerge if I held my nerve, given the proximity of the where the bird was at Attenborough Nature Reserve just outside Nottingham, to Nottingham East Midlands Airport, and the probability of me making visits to see my then partner, and love of my life, Elizabeth near Coventry, or Dad in Chesterfield, or both. Christmas loomed and it was eventually decided that I would be in Edinburgh rather than anywhere more adjacent down south. After Christmas / New Year, a compensatory visit to see my Mum in Burnley was touted, and crystallised when Burnley were drawn against Liverpool in the FA Cup to be played at home on Friday the 4th January. Perhaps this offered the chance to make a weekend of it and incorporate a trip to both Chesterfield and Nottingham? But would it still be around by this time?

However, as suggested, slowly the proximity of Nottingham East Midlands Airport (which was my destination airport number two for my trips south to see Elizabeth) to the location had dawned on me, and so I developed my scheme. This involved flying south to Nottingham East Midlands, getting Elizabeth to meet me there and then taking her to see the bird. In the event, it didn’t quite work like that as she wasn’t able to get away until after my arrival but all the same it was a good plan, and one that worked, of sorts!

Elizabeth and I had a weekend in the Lake District the weekend of the Saturday the 18th/ Sunday the 19th December, but this was not close enough to even begin thinking of making it a combined mission.

However, I tentatively floated the idea of us having a brief rendezvous the following week if I could get suitable, affordable flights. I researched various options on my return home on the evening of the 19th December onwards but it wasn’t until the evening of Tuesday the 21st December that I committed myself to a return flight to Nottingham East Midlands Airport the following day. I liaised with Elizabeth in the process to ensure this ‘fitted’ with her. So, I was flying from Edinburgh Airport to Nottingham East Midlands Airport and back on Wednesday the 22nd December. My outbound was at 08:30 and the inbound one was at 17:20.

The flight was cheap enough at £86.78, and as Elizabeth wasn’t able to get to Nottingham East Midlands until later I also investigated airport taxis. However, as I resented paying over the odds for an airport taxi, I left this to chance.

So, some ten days after it was first reported, I had finally resolved a scheme which enable me not only to catch up with this goodie, but also to have time with Elizabeth and complete my Christmas shopping, all in the space of a few short hours involving a flying visit to Nottingham East Midlands.

Having booked, I ‘phoned Dad, initially about something else, but in doing so quickly realised that Dad was flying also from Nottingham East Midlands Airport to Edinburgh Airport on the 22nd December! I had booked my flights and then inadvertently entered the pertinent flight details into my electronic ‘schedule’ document on the 23rd December, and as such hadn’t noticed the clash...... . As it happened, this didn’t really matter (although I could have perhaps booked my return flight for the same flight as Dad was on) but I did have to hastily rearrange my cleaning and sorting activities so the flat was ready for Dad’s visit...... . As suggested, life was very complicated at this time.

The journey the next day went well enough, excepting the change in 24-hour parking arrangements at Edinburgh Airport; the flight was just the same as....... . I quickly organised a taxi and enjoyed a good chat with the taxi driver on the way from the airport to Barton Lane in Attenborough, Nottingham adjacent to Attenborough Nature Reserve. Unfortunately though, I had no contact with Elizabeth until after I had arrived.

Once I had arrived and settled the fare with taxi-driver and then clambered out of the taxi and walked quickly from where I was dropped off on Barton Lane to the location involved, Clifton Pit. Here, I quickly and easily saw the bird which showed well intermittently at reasonably close ranges. Unfortunately, I had trouble with my ‘scope, but all the same.

Meanwhile, I had re-established contact with Elizabeth and ‘talked her in’ as she journeyed north on the M1. Once she arrived I went to find her and she then duly saw it as well. Once again, the greater Nottingham area had provided a very good bird, following the Bufflehead, the Cedar Waxwing and the Redhead.

Afterwards, we searched godforsaken retail parks for good forsaken Toy R Us outlets, etc., so she could continue yet more Christmas shopping for the CYDS. But, even though I didn’t really engage with this process although I still had my Christmas shopping to do, I didn’t really care as I’d just seen Sora, apparently the 13th for Britain.

Again, although I had previously seen Sora in Texas in April 1992, I actually looked at this one.

It was a medium-small rather plump rail.

The upper-parts, crown, nape and rear of neck were an olive-brown. The mantle had several rows of black ‘chevrons’ fringed and bordered with a silvery-white which created a ‘tram-line’ effect down the back. The fringes of the tertials were also silvery-white and showed no signs of any ‘wavy bars’.

The face (in front of the eye and around the base of the bill), and the chin and throat were black (indicative of the bird being an adult). The crown had no streaking.

The under-parts were mainly grey. The face behind the eye and the supercilium were grey, with the exception of a small patch of olive-brown on the ear coverts and a tiny, white triangular area behind the eye. The neck and upper breast were also grey with no markings. The flanks and belly were a lighter grey and there was an intricate pattern of black and white lines on the flanks.

The under-tail coverts were white with a yellowish-buff central patch.

It had a triangular shaped bill which was yellow-green and had no visible signs of any red or orange coloration on the bill base. The legs were greenish-yellow and it had with long toes.

It appeared nervous, and scuttled into cover, before re-emerging and methodically walking the water’s edge, constantly flicked its tail, in typical crake fashion.

Spot the crake! Er, a habitat shot, indicating, if nothing else, it was not the best of light conditions given it was in the depths of mid-winter.

Sora, Attenborough Nature Reserve, Attenborough, Nottingham, Nottinghamshire, December 2004 (photograph credited to Geoffrey Alan Clewes).