American Redstart – Eoligarry, Barra, Outer Hebrides, 12^th September 2017

If the successful twitch to Orkney and North Ronaldsay for the Red-winged Blackbird earlier in 2017 seemed like eons ago, the successful twitches to the Outer Hebrides and North Uist and Barra for Gyr Falcon, American Herring Gull and Black-billed Cuckoo seemed like eons squared ago.

But you just never know when another twitch might be in the offing. As ever with such circumstances, I can clearly remember the news breaking. On the morning of Thursday the 7th September, several of us (including John Nadin) were outside the Low Light on the Isle of May when Ken Shaw looked at his pager and quietly announced (everything is relative) that, in effect, an incredible bird had turned up.

He didn’t directly say what it was but rather chose to play a game with it.... . Clues included, ‘an American Warbler’, but ‘not a warbler’, but ‘nice link between the Old World and the New World’, ‘I (i.e., me!) needed it’, ‘two in rapid succession both of which involved women as the co-finders’, etc..

After a lot of agonising, and failed guessing, I eventually realised that I hadn’t considered American Redstart, and Ken confirmed that this was right, and that the bird was on Barra.

Now, this obviously exercised my mind greatly, but I was on the Isle of May until the following day (my birthday), and as luck would have it, due to quirk of circumstances, I had not one, not two, but three proposals for potential work to prepare that weekend (having committed to doing so in at least one of the three instances, the most significant).

And anyway, something like an American Redstart surely wasn’t going to stay around was it?

That night at the Low Light, after Julian Osborne had prepared and provided a fantastic beef stroganoff (complete with a couple of bottles of a good red wine), John Swallow produced a coffee and walnut birthday cake for me which had been baked and decorated, etc., by his wife, Margaret, and then carefully transported all the way from Berkshire to the Isle of May. Then, the following day, when Ken Shaw, John Swallow and I went down to Kirkhaven with our bags and to help moor the May Princess, the returning David Steel (plus Bex Outram and Sacha Riley-Smith) who had been to mainland Fife for a wedding were insistent that I went onboard for some reason. This I did, taking with me my carrier bag containing the remaining part of my birthday cake for the SNH Reserve Managers. Once on board however, I was presented with another birthday cake by them!

So, I had part of my birthday on the Isle of May, and very enjoyable it was. Once back in Anstruther I indulged myself further by having some of the paella Amanda had prepared. Having done so, I then travelled home to Edinburgh, for what was a relatively quiet last few hours of my birthday. Perhaps these activities distracted from the ongoing presence of the American Redstart... .

Certainly over the weekend this was perhaps also the case, as I concentrated on watching the Burnley game, and preparing fee proposals for a Phase 1 Habitat Survey, for a report on the Hen Harrier roost at Hunt Law and, in particular, for preparing a CEMP and providing an ECoW for the second golf course at Castle Stuart.

At times I even secretly hoped that the bird would leave to take away the problem. However, although activities certainly occupied me until the Monday, as the bird was still there, my mind increasingly turned to ‘How?’ and ‘When?’.... .

...... rather abruptly so, when, at 08:40 on the Monday morning John Nadin ‘phoned me asking me whether I was going for it, indicating that he would want to come and suggesting if I wanted to go today I needed to go very soon.....! I had various commitments during the week to work around, including a dental appointment that afternoon, but a plan slowly began to formalise.

John had also indicated that he had ‘phoned Calum Scott about his plans.... . As such, I messaged Calum at 09:14 and suggested that if the bird was still around the following day (Tuesday the 12th September) I would be going for it. When Calum returned my call, he suggested he too had been prevented from going earlier by various constraints, but suggested he would be interested in going with me... .

This scheme of things had the huge advantage of Calum’s friendship with Bruce Taylor, the finder of this and multiple other major rarities on Barra.... .

Calum also suggested he would get back to me once he had spoken to Bruce. When he did, the bad news was that we wouldn’t be able to stay with Bruce and Kathy (as we had done when we twitched the American Herring Gull) as they were having some renovations done, but the good news was that Bruce had agreed to go to the site early the following morning so that we would have positive news (or not) before setting off. Calum also advised that another Barra regular, Mark Oksien, was already on Barra and amused by telling me that John Nadin had obviously departed for Barra soon after he spoken to me and was bombarding Calum with inane questions..... . Nadinism’s certainly characterised the next 24 hours or so...... .

At 07:23 the following morning I got a message from Calum saying the American Redstart was indeed still there, and that he would be with me by 09:00.

We departed for Oban for the 13:30 ferry to Barra soon after 09:00. The drive to Oban was largely uneventful, and we had plenty of time to park up, sort out our bags, walk to the ferry terminal, get our tickets and boarding passes and even for me to get a prawn sandwich at the nearby seafood stall. I couldn’t wait to consume this as we walked towards a cash-point in the centre of Oban, and as a result was clobbered around the back of my head as an adult Herring Gull swooped in and nicked part of my sandwich!

After this excitement, the crossing from Oban to Castlebay was plain sailing; a cast of White-tailed Eagle high over the Sound of Mull and Leach’s Petrel, Storm Petrel, Manx Shearwater and Great Skua in The Minch helped pass the journey.

As did some of the other ‘birders’ on board, as they struggled to identify close Kittiwakes, etc., (seriously!).

Having sailed at 13:30, we were scheduled to arrive in Castlebay at 18:15. Although, relatively speaking, I was reasonably confident we would score, the crossing dragged somewhat as we knew we would have limited time on arrival to get to Eoligarry and get the bird before the light failed. Indeed, as we approached Barra the light did deteriorate for a while as large shower clouds moved through, but as we got closer to Castlebay these cleared. Better, as we docked, we could see Bruce Taylor waiting for us in Castlebay.

Maybe some of the other birders (John Bell for instance) were also foot passengers, but it appeared that most were car drivers or passengers. So we were very pleased that we were able to disembark quickly (first!) and rendezvoused with both Bruce and Kathy, before jumping in their car and being quickly driven the ‘long way around’ northwards towards Eoligarry, importantly, ahead of the ferry traffic. This route was a good idea to, as it avoided most of the traffic in and around Castlebay. We were on site quickly – by 18:45, and rendezvoused with Mark Oksien. We parked up, and made our way through the gap between a gatepost and the wall of the walled garden within which the bird had been for the past few days. From here we walked around to the back of the walled garden to a point from where we were able to view into the garden area and more specifically view the stunted sycamores within, as is evidenced in the photograph included here courtesy of Bruce Taylor.

There was, in effect, one sycamore immediately in front of us to our right, and then two more to our left along the perpendicular wall, one relatively close and another one further away in the midway along this same wall.

Bruce obviously knew these trees and the birds’ movements amongst them very well. Within seconds of us arriving he was on it, and almost as quickly, got us on it. It was actively feeding in the lower horizontal branches of the furthest away of the two sycamores along the perpendicular wall.

We were able to enjoy reasonable, if intermittent, views of it as flitted about in this tree before the rabble arrived, several vital minutes after we had. Needless to say, it disappeared as soon they appeared, and given the relatively low standard of birding ability involved amongst these ‘latecomers’ it wasn’t readily relocated, certainly not by some of their number.

It did though give very inadequate views in the sycamore furthest away, though these were very intermittent and it was partly obscured and frequently / invariably very difficult to get onto (prompting some challenged birder to moan he could only ‘see sparrows’ – look harder mate, a lot harder, you’ve come a long way!).

It then disappeared altogether for a while, before it was Bruce again who found it for the assembled 12 or 15 or so, in the nearest of the two sycamores to our left along the perpendicular wall. Here it briefly gave its’ best views as it worked its’ way through the upper branches of this tree, causing certainly me to comment on how stupendous it was.

Calum and I realised that as the light was fading and we were surrounded by ‘birders’ of challenged abilities we probably weren’t going to get any better views. So, as the light failed and the ****wits annoyed, we cut our losses and decided to leave the scene.

And anyway, we were now all the more determined to celebrate with a couple of beers and a good meal.... . Which we did; we said goodbye (and thanks!) to Bruce and Kathy and then clambered into Mark’s mobile ringing hut to be driven to the Heathbank Hotel to do so. Although we were consigned to a back room we dined very well, entertained by the delightful new owner and by further Nadinism’s (who else would ask for £40 cash back when paying his bill, and then leave without it?).

Afterwards, Mark was again good enough to take us to the Barra Holidays @Croft 183 bunkhouse (and, given our complete failure to sort out a taxi to take us to the ferry early the following morning) to take us to the ferry the next day.

The return crossing was much the same as the Oban to Barra one, better views of White-tailed Eagles on islands in the Sound of Mull and especially so on the northern tip of Kerrara just outside Oban Harbour, and Leach’s Petrel, Storm Petrel, Manx Shearwater, Arctic Skua and Great Skua in The Minch again helped pass the journey.

We were back in Oban just about 24 hours after we had arrived there the previous day; a massively successful lightning raid!! A stunning bird, a stonker, and a blocker no more; it was the sixth for Britain, and the first since the mid-1980s.

It was ‘typical’, in terms of size and shape to most North American warblers, perhaps a tad bigger and stockier than a Chiffchaff. Very early on Calum remarked on its’ Red-breasted Flycatcher-like appearance, not just due to its tail pattern, but also its overall ‘jizz’ and active feeding behaviour.

This is perhaps evident in John Nadin’s photograph below. The strong, wide-based bill and the large-ish dark eye (with pale eye-ring) certainly added to this. The head was grey and unmarked, and the rest of the upperparts were a largely unmarked greenish grey. The under-parts were pale, un-streaked and clean-looking with warm yellowy patches on the sides of the breast. The tail was the most striking feature though, with a large, almost luminous, yellow panel on either side of its base.

Wow!! A fantastic belated birthday present / start to autumn 2017.

American Redstart, Eoligarry, Barra, September 2017 (photograph credited John Nadin)

The walled garden at Eoligarry, Barra, September 2017 (photograph credited Bruce Taylor)

 

 

Two-barred Greenish Warbler – Budle Point, near Bamburgh, Northumberland, 30^th September 2020

So, as may have been mentioned elsewhere, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, 2020 was something of a write-off in terms of going to places seeking rare birds, whether finding our own or seeing someone else’s.

If only we had seen it coming, eh? ………. but 2020 vision isn’t always possible, not in the birding world anyway….. .

Certainly, autumn 2020 was a complete write off in terms of such ventures / adventures. Or almost, but not quite.

Three of us (as opposed to the usual crew of six) made it to the Isle of May between the 29th August and the 5th September, but the efforts of Ken Shaw, David Clugston and I, plus those of David Steel, et al., failed to produce too much.

Then, although I had rescued something from the wreckage of our long planned Unst trip (which would have been between around the 12th and the 30th September) which we had eventually had to cancel due to gentle pressure from Brydon Thomason (et al.?) suggesting we should do the right thing and not go to Unst, my reinvented trip (you’ve guessed it…..) also failed to produce too much.

Early on during the initial planning of Unst 2020 my co-organiser, Chris Pendlebury, had dropped out as he couldn’t get the two weeks involved off. He had, instead, planned a weekend on mainland Shetland, and then this, in turn, developed. Andy Carroll booked an Airbnb in Lerwick for a week between the 19th and the 25th September he and Chris intended to share. However, Andy struggled getting clearance for each element of an intended Shetland / Isle of May / Scilly triple header, and so, having negotiated with me, he dropped out, and I dropped in.

I saw this as some consolation for the cancelled Unst trip. I had even managed to change my long-booked flights to and from Shetland for a very reasonable £45.

All this provided some sort of salvation for the cancellation of the always ill-fated Unst trip. Even when the Lerwick Airbnb which Andy had booked suddenly cancelled with no explanation Chris (and I) rapidly arranged for an alternative Airbnb in Scalloway. There was even some optimism about our week; basing ourselves in Scalloway seemed just a little bit innovative rather than ‘safe’ (i.e., Lerwick or south Mainland). There was certainly the usual sense of anticipation…. .

However, unfortunately for us, Shetland was something of a bird free hell throughout our stay. We adopted a daily pattern of working the varied areas of good cover in Scalloway in the earlier part of the morning before checking the gardens at Asta House (and Asta Loch (and Tingwall Loch)). Then, we ventured further afield and checked sites on Tondra, East Burra and West Burra and / or South Mainland later on.

In doing so, we found a few Yellow-browed Warblers, but beyond that we were limited to one or two Pied Flycatchers, etc.. We also ‘twitched’ padders such as Surf Scoter, Red-backed Shrike and Lapland Bunting, but in wildlife terms a ‘showy’ Humpback Whale was the definite highlight. Not really what we envisaged. Being in Shetland, exploring new places, doing our own thing and spending time with just Chris (excellent company as ever) as opposed to a crew of six or so as ‘normal’ were all good, but….. .

All very depressing; as ever, a tale of what might have been. My mood wasn’t helped by the juxtaposition of this trip and the incredible occurrence of the Yellow-bellied Flycatcher on Tiree (obviously a first for the Western Palaearctic) between the 14th (although actually only practically available from the 15th) and the 23rd September. By the time I had thought about it, it was too late; there was too little time to get to Tiree and back before my flight to Sumburgh on the 19th and by the time I was back in Edinburgh, inevitably, it had gone…… .

To make things worse, this ill-luck continued when, the very day we would have been leaving Unst to drive to south after our two weeks in Noosthamar came to an end, Dougie Preston found his Tennessee Warbler on Yell, the very first island we would be travelling through on our way south (or alternatively, this happened just four days after Chris and I had actually left mainland Shetland………). And, to make things even worse, an extremely showy Olive-backed Pipit had been found in the gardens of Asta House on the 27th September that we had assiduously checked every day between the 19th and 25th September…… .

As such, when what had initially been as a Yellow-browed Warbler on the 28th and part of the 29th September and a Greenish Warbler on part of the 29th September suddenly transmogrified into a Two-barred Greenish Warbler when it was suddenly Mega’ed at 17.26 that day I was interested, very interested….. .

I had no work constraints, or any constraints involving ‘trades’ at my new place 62 High Street, South Queensferry, or viewings at the old place… .

I was unconstrained!

Steely inadvertently video-called me on WhatsApp at some time before 20.00 on the evening of the 29th September (having sent me a WhatsApp message saying, “If only you were on Shetland…..”).

But by now I’d moved on, and had another mission. I video-called him back, and we discussed my options, and later Steely, being from the north-east of England, was able to provide access details and map taken from the Northumberland WhatsApp group. In addition, he was very helpfully able to provide confirmation that the bird had been seen going to roost……….. .

Steely also offered to give me any news from the WhatsApp group in the morning.

This proved unnecessary, as at 08.01 there was positive news on RBA.

As such, I was able to leave Queensferry at c.08.50, and after an excellent hassle-free drive, I arrived at Budle at c.10.30.

Before departing, to salve my conscience, I had messaged John Nadin at 08.19 to enquire whether he was interested. Unfortunately for John, it was his wife Norma’s birthday, so it was a no-go for him….. .

En-route John provided some not very positive news from site at c.09.00 via Andy Stirrat, who had been there since first light, suggesting that it had not seen it and that it was blowing a gale and was just starting to rain…… .

Other information I gleaned en-route and on arriving at Budle and parking up was that seemingly it had only seen once by one person; it was in the same area but had only called once and briefly showed in hawthorn and then flew into sycamores with a Chiffchaff….. .

Not the most promising of scenarios then.

My arrival was a tad fraught. Arriving involved negotiating some roadworks before parking in what was seemingly the right place (judging by the other cars parked alongside the road…). In addition, unhelpfully, I was bursting whilst the car was running VERY low on fuel.

Having briefly chatted to a returning birder (who didn’t do anything for my JSN-induced pessimism) I assembled my gear and set off from the coast road towards the site referred to as Budle Point… .

Although Steely had provided directions and an annotated O.S. map extract from the Northumberland WhatsApp site, it wasn’t immediately obvious how to get to where the bird was, or, at least, to where the pin had been dropped on the annotated map.

I opted to bear right at the first intersection on the track that led towards the coast from the road. This took me towards a complex of buildings at Newtown. As there was no sign of anyone, birders or residents (or visiting guests), I walked on towards what proved to be a group of self-containing accommodation along what proved to be a right-of-way. Beyond these buildings and a gate on the right-of-way, it become more obvious where I should be going; the next intersection offered a right-hand turn option which took me towards the Stablewood Cottages Caravan Site, where, finally (alright, just minutes later) birders were evident.

The caravan site occupied a small valley and the area beyond, adjacent to the south-east shores of Budle Bay. At the head of the valley was a very small copse of sycamore and ash. Some ten or so small trees were involved, some of which were adjacent to the uppermost the caravans on the north-east side of the caravan site access road through the valley. Beyond, to the east, was the Bamburgh Castle Golf Course. North-west of the copse of trees, and between the caravan site and the golf course, was an area of bracken scrub with isolated hawthorn bushes, with denser scrub and bushes further down the same valley side.

Some 40(?) or so birders were evident, mainly within the caravan site and or adjacent to the copse of sycamore and ash trees at the head of the valley, or alongside the valley on the very edge of the golf course.

It certainly wasn’t obviously where I should place myself. The sycamore and ash copse was windswept, and the caravan site itself was (strictly) off-limits. The gusty wind and persistent light rain showers didn’t help.

Nor did the bizarre sight of Lee Evans lying flat on his back underneath the sycamores saying that it was up in the trees above him where he could hear it calling but couldn’t see it….. .

I decided that any sensible phyllos wouldn’t be in the windswept copse and would be in the denser more sheltered cover further down the valley, and so I made my way there. This proved to no avail, so I made my way back (with some difficulty due to my failing balance). I can’t remember whether I made my way all the way back to the top end of the caravan site and back or not but certainly within an hour or so of me arriving on site there was a flurry of activity when the bird briefly showed in the largest hawthorn alongside the golf course.

Unfortunately, although it did show in said hawthorn, a combination of me being not particularly well-placed and the inability of those who were on it to give coherent directions to enable others to get on it thwarted me. LGRE (and others) gave directions that included, ‘It’s near the obvious lichen…..’, etc., etc..

As a result, although I had brief naked eye views as it flitted on the lower edges of the bush, I failed to get any proper views in my binoculars. Frustratingly, my ‘best’ views were of a striking bright olive- green phyllos type warbler flying away from me as it flew from the hawthorn back to the sycamores. It was some time before 12.30.

I had deliberately tried to avoid the horrendous racist that is LGRE, but bizarrely he came to me and said, “You’re Brian aren’t you? You used to come to the Scillies years ago…”. Fame at last…. .

There then followed a lllllooooonnnnnggggg interlude before the next showing. Very little happened during the intervening time. It just didn’t ‘feel’ very promising. The bird was hugely elusive and seemingly was ‘favouring’ the windswept trees of the copse where it could apparently be occasionally heard but never seen. There wasn’t a huge amount of cover – just ten or so smallish sycamores and ashes – but the bird became invisible when in them. It was all very strange; sure, it was windy and rainy, but lots of eyes were looking.

A long period with no sign ensued…….. .

Thankfully, reacquainting myself with both Andy Close and Euan McLachlan certainly helped, although my ‘i.d.’ was shocking, and initially I failed to recognise both them. I did though recognise the unmistakable Jumbo from Fair Isle and was amused by his discussions with his mate about whether to abandon this mission and continue on to Shetland…. . Yep, I’m only playing at it….. .

The gathered throng was certainly a mixed bunch – local birders coming back for more, travelling twitchers hoping for a tick, some of whom, I think, were ‘born again’ birders, recently retired ‘I know, I’ll take up birding’ birders, ‘all the gear and no idea’. Perhaps harsh, but certainly a feature of 21st century birding. Anyway, as ever, the birders present were of varying abilities. Andy Close stood out in this context, constantly looking, constantly trying something different; certainly not just standing around aimlessly. At one stage he gestured to me from the lower edge of the copse within the caravan site as I was standing adjacent to it on the tee of one of the holes on the golf course. He was suggesting he could hear it nearby, having clearly recognised me, but I failed to recognise him. Maybe it was the cool shades and the sharp civvy clothes that threw me; I didn’t remember him being dressed this way on Fair Isle. Later we coincided and he prompted my dim memory and we chatted and birded together. It was Andy who briefly located the bird at least once; bizarrely on one occasion it was seen in the bare branches very close to the top of the windswept sycamores…. .

Similarly, Euan McLachlan who again I had noticed as being a proactive birding but failed to recognise until he (re-)introduced himself to me as the person who had attended my talk on the taiga bean geese and who I had then pointed in the direction of getting work with Andy Carroll.

Much more straightforward was my recognition of Darren Woodhead who I spotted arriving along the coastal path alongside the golf course from the Stag Rocks / Bamburgh direction. I made my way from the caravan site towards him, and having intercepted him and quickly appraised him of the situation, we opted to sit on a bank on the edge of the golf course overlooking the valley. We chatted at some length watching what was going on as we did all the time.

The rain had stopped some while earlier, but it was still windy, perhaps more so, and as such, it was difficult to believe that the bird was still in the copse as seemingly small and ‘easily’ viewed as it was. Chatting to Darren (who I was able to thank for being so generous with his talent when Tessa and Ellen had arranged to get my birthday present from him) certainly helped make the long vigil better, but there was a distinct feeling by now that it wasn’t going to be…. .

I mentally wrestled with the dilemma of whether my earlier views had been good enough, but I knew they hadn’t, so I began reconciling myself to leaving the scene of a twitch without seeing the bird well enough to count.

Finally, though, there was a flurry of action down in the caravan site near the copse, and, in summary, the bird suddenly became relatively cooperative whilst moving from the sycamores to the largest hawthorn and back on a couple or more occasions. In doing so, I was finally able to get myself in the right place at the right time.

I’m not suggesting for one minute that the bird gave itself up; it was still elusive and flighty, being often either deep in cover in the hawthorn or suddenly moving back into the sycamores. But crucially, twice when it was in the hawthorn, I just about managed to keep on it as it rapidly moved through the interior of the bush and thankfully very briefly occasionally appeared ‘in the open’ (at least partially!) on the outer margins.

On the last such occasion the photographer Mike Barth was next to me and one or two others as I had my best views and he was able to get his best shots… . As such, Darren and I asked him for his contact details and Mike was then good enough to send me the accompanying superb image which captures how I saw it when eventually I saw it well (enough).

My views were very brief, admittedly, but I was finally able to see the stonking pale supercilium, and, eventually the striking pale wing-bar(s). Otherwise, it was a typical phyllos with mainly off-white underparts, and dull green upperparts. It had a slightly darker green eye-stripe. I was only vaguely aware of the colour of the legs and bill (both of which were broadly Willow Warbler-like).

Most of all though, my abiding impression was how well the finders had done pinning down this elusive bird sufficiently well for it to be specifically identified. I could now well understand why the bird had had a difficult gestation from Yellow-browed Warbler to Greenish Warbler to Two-barred Greenish Warbler. Certainly, it had close similarities to both (and indeed, as discussed with Darren, to Arctic Warbler, and, dare I say, Eastern Crowned Warbler). It was smaller than the latter pair, bigger than Yellow-browed Warbler and (just) bigger than Greenish Warbler. But this was marginal, in all instances. Interestingly, Darren and I thought there were similarities in terms of structure and general appearance with Arctic Warbler; I thought it was surprisingly stocky looking.

In relation to Yellow-browed Warbler it lacked the pale tips to the tertials, and the wing was overall plainer, whilst in relation to both Greenish Warbler and Arctic Warbler the shape and size of the wing-bars and eye-stripe / supercilium were subtly different, but perhaps not on my views, and perhaps only in regard of careful analysis of photographic images.

Undoubtedly this fantastic Graphic by Ross Ahmed illustrates what I'm trying to say a lot more eloquently than me!

However, it became very obvious that the distinctive House Sparrow / Pied Wagtail like fast, ‘pitchew-wee’ was crucial to the identification of this bird; certainly, I heard this more frequently than I saw the bird!

Having finally had very brief, but more than adequate views, I opted to leave at c.15.30. Again, despite reaching the Edinburgh by-pass in what in ‘normal’ times was rush hour the journey was hassle free and I arrived home at c.17.45.

Five hours for some very brief views, but now I am getting closer to 500 I cannot expect new birds to be easy. At least it was less than two hours away, and as such, despite ongoing COVID-19 and increasing environmental concerns, easy to justify on this basis. In terms of base statistics Two-barred Greenish Warbler was my 497th species in the UK / British Isles, and this particular individual was seemingly the eighth for the UK….. .

Two-barred Greenish Warbler at Budle Point, Northumberland, September 2020 (photograph credited to Mike Barth).

 Tibetan Sand Plover – Rimac, Lincolnshire, 14^th May 2002

On the night of the 11th May 2002, a Saturday, my ex- Gillian and I were out with our friends Graham Clark and Christine Reid in Edinburgh, taking advantage on the opportunity to do so as my Mum was visiting and therefore baby-sitting. Early on, on what proved to be a very long night of excessive eating, drinking and partying, news of Greater Sand Plover became news of a Lesser Sand Plover* on the MegaAlert..... .

(* Clearly, sand plovers were reinvented since this account was written way back when, and what was Lesser Sand Plover became Siberian Sand Plover and Tibetan Sand Plover - the bird in question here - in 2023).

There was no immediate response from either Graham or I as we couldn’t do anything about it there and then, and we were having a good time. And soon afterwards we were too pissed, and as a result not capable of even thinking about the following day, Sunday the 12th May. That day I couldn’t even get my act together to go to Aberlady Bay for Kentish Plover, a Scottish tick, let alone Rimac, in far-away Lincolnshire for Lesser Sand Plover.

So, on Monday the 13th May, as usual, I was back to work, flying down from Edinburgh to London Heathrow, on this occasion armed with binoculars.

On arrival at Bechtel I 'phoned Mike Thompson to investigate any remote possibility of going with him, but he explained that he had pre-empted the transformation of the bird from a Greater to a Lesser on the Saturday when he primed Pete Ewer about the Greater Sand Plover, and as such had twitched it successfully on Sunday with Pete and Angela.

The pressure was on, but my head still not clear enough to make any definitive plans, now due to a lack of sleep caused by a further curtailed night of sleep, this time caused by the girls and my early flight, rather than drink.

I did though place an e-mail request for a lift on the Surfbirds website and then with Rare Bird Alert. Later, at c.13.00 I received a message relating to my lift required on the pager. However, unfortunately the only response was from Graham telling me that he was now intending to travel from Edinburgh to Lincolnshire on Monday night on his way to Norfolk and then Hertfordshire before his next trip. Neither of us could think of a way of combining his trip south to Lincolnshire with mine north. I asked him to give me a report from the scene though.

I returned to my flat in St. Albans that evening to find a message on the answerphone from Mike offering use of his spare birding equipment. He urged me to put another request for a lift on the pager that night, but I still hadn't defined a strategy beyond taking my binoculars with me to work the following morning.

I had though researched train times and so I resolved that once I had news on the Tuesday morning, I would negotiate a ‘day pass’ and make my way to Cleethorpes by train, if nothing else offered itself.

As I left the flat that morning at 06:30 my mobile went off and I answered to find that it was my ‘reporter on the spot’ telling me he too had just seen it. The pressure was really on now as Graham had caught up with it, as well as Mike and Pete!

I continued on my way to work, contemplating opting out and going straight to Kings Cross and getting the first train to Cleethorpes. Almost, but not quite.... .

Still in a quandary, I reached work and resolved to confront the issue, even if it involved taking a day off. I broached the issue with Ian ?????? (the senior engineer with responsibility for the environmental cohort) first who basically said ‘go for it’ and then with Clifton Schindel (my direct line-manager, a very young American ‘boy’ environmental engineer with whom I often clashed) second. Given the lack of workload at the time, he too was reasonably positive, surprisingly so.

I put out another lift request on the pager, this time after 'phoning Andrew Raines at Rare Bird Alert, and whilst I waited for the resultant calls, investigated train times again.

However, then it dawned on me that Bechtel had a travel section on the ground floor and perhaps, given the logistics of getting a train / taxi and taxi train and the problematic lack of lifts offered, hiring a car was the way to go.

I quickly made my way there and explained my predicament to the main person in the office. He assigned one of his staff, Jo, to the case and although she had just arrived at work, we very quickly agreed that my best option would be to hire a small car from Europcar in Brentford on Bechtel rates, with the option of returning it to Luton Airport. Given the £55 train fare, the charges seemed reasonable and so I committed myself, and Jo confirmed the arrangements with Europcar.

After a quick change of clothes into what passed for birding gear amongst the meagre selection of non-office clothes I retained in my flat in St. Albans, I bade my colleagues at Bechtel goodbye. At c.09:10 I hailed a taxi to take me from Hammersmith Broadway to Gillette Corner on Great West Road, the A4 through Brentford. Lovely! The taxi driver and I found the Europcar offices with reasonable ease, and some 40 minutes before the arranged time of 10:00 I arrived at the Europcar offices to collect my Renault Clio.

This all went reasonably well, with the result that well before 10:00 I was on my way to Lincolnshire from West London.

The only drawback was that Europcar were unable to provide any sort of road map and so I navigated all the way there, using my geographers / birders intuition and a tiny road map in my diary.

I made good time and arrived some 3.5(?) hours after leaving West London. Unfortunately, as I made my way off the Lincolnshire Wolds towards the coast the pager announced that the Lesser Sand Plover had been lost.

This increased my velocity to new levels, despite me noticing the increased number of speed cameras abounding in rural Eastern England since I last drove there.

I arrived at the Rimac carpark, with its memories of a similar dash to see Alpine Accentor, and in less time than usual assembled my gear, as I had none. What I did have consisted of my bins, mobile ‘phone, pager and a pen and paper. Otherwise, I was totally ill-equipped, particularly given the imminent yomp across coastal Lincolnshire’s salt-marshes and mudflats.

As I walked out from the car-park towards the mudflats I asked an elderly couple coming the other way whether ‘it’ had been relocated. The answer was in the negative, and he explained that birders were fanning out across the flats looking for it.

As I got further out, I could see what he meant, because away in the distance to the south I could see 20 – 30 birders spread across the beach like tiny matchstick figures.

I made my way towards them, not particularly quickly, but as I did so it became apparent that the scattered wanderings were slowly beginning to coalesce at one point. That was enough for me, and so the pace of my walking increased. After 20 – 25 minutes I was with the crowd and able to pick the target out, just, with my binoculars. The assembled gallery was now c.30 strong and ranged in a loose curve around the wader flock at c.50 – 60 m range.

Considerations of light and wind direction came into it, but despite this I had plumped for a position centrally within the gallery, looking south and with a very strong cross-wind.

However, these were relatively minor considerations given that by chance I had positioned myself to a birder who was very generous with his ‘scope. I had been looking at the bird with my binoculars, finding it relatively easy to pick out, owing to its stance and relatively pale plumage, when he tapped me on my arm, and invited me to use his ‘scope.

He had obviously realised my predicament and as such exercised his Yorkshire generosity by offering me the frequent use of his ‘scope. And what a ‘scope it was! It was Kowa TSN fluorite ‘scope, which gave stunning clarity despite the difficult viewing conditions. It was so windy that soon after this arrangement commenced two adjacent ‘scopes and tripods blew over and fell into the estuarine sediments!

The bird was reasonably close, but due to the proximity of the ranged birders and the windy conditions, the accompanying Ringed Plovers and Dunlins were somewhat flighty. I was relatively easily able to follow the sand plovers’ movements with my bins, but embarrassingly it was sometimes a struggle identifying its’ companion species in terms of giving directions once the bird had moved. A prominent ‘breast-on’ Ringed Plover thus became a Lapwing as all the waders looked dark in the light conditions and size / scale was not immediately apparent.

Anyway, my directions to the sand plover in terms of it being ‘next to the Lapwing’ caused mutterings from to young lads next to me. Shortly afterwards, when I explained to my ‘scope companion that I was working on a Project in Azerbaijan, Georgia and Turkey, and as yet hadn’t seen the Caspian, let alone birds in that region such as Lesser Sand Plover, the murmurings started again, I assume because they made the assumption I was getting confused with Caspian Plover. The old birding aggression welled up, but fortunately I quelled it and concentrated on the bird.

The views through the ‘borrowed’ ‘scope got better and better, and as the bird moved around us, so the light got better and the sand plover got closer. By now we were working in tandem, my companion would use his ‘scope for a few minutes whilst I used my bins and attempted to sketch the bird, and then I would have a look at it through his ‘scope for a minute or so. After some 15 – 20 minutes of this, someone nearby called the ‘scope owner by name, and after a delayed reaction caused by lack of memory power and the photo-reactive glasses he was wearing I realised I knew him. It was Kris from Yorkshire who I had last met when I gave him a lift on North Uist when Graham and I had twitched the Long-tailed Shrike! He was mightily impressed that we should met up again like this and so the craich was even better, culminating in me being given a sausage butty shortly before they left! We exchanged contact details and then said our goodbyes and they departed, apparently because my ‘scope sharing mate wanted to go back to Potteric Carr where he was warden to gloat to one of his colleagues about seeing the Lesser Sand Plover!

Anyway, back to the bird and birding.

I readjusted my position, and once again fortuitously struck lucky by inadvertently standing next to another birder willing to share his very good ‘scope with me. This time he was from my side of the Pennines, but equally keen to share the experience. He had his tripod set as low as possible and despite having to kneel down in the silty-sands of the beach to view, this and the fact that the bird was closer than ever meant that the views were very good.

More birders had drifted away by now, and perhaps for this reason the waders (and the sand plover in particular) were as close as they had been throughout my stay. I took full advantage of another generous Northern birder and used his ‘scope to get my best views. During this time the bird moved to within 20 m of the nearest small group of birders / photographers / digiscopers.

I decided that that was the place to be and moved from my position to theirs, helped by the fact that an absolutely massive bloke was doing the same and shielded me totally from view. Once there, I obviously got the best binocular views I had.

As a rain shower appeared to be heading our way, fast, I decided to quit whilst I was ahead, and so walked back to the Rimac car-park a very happy birder. I was thrilled to have re-discovered ‘spontaneous’ twitching and so enjoyed the walk through interesting coastal habitats all the more recounting the day’s events as I went.

The bird was obviously very reminiscent of the two previous Greater Sand Plovers I had seen, certainly in terms of structure, shape and plumage. However, it also had certain, subtle but definite characteristics which made it stand out as a ‘Lesser’.

Firstly, my binocular views. The bird was obviously bigger and bulkier than the accompanying Ringed Plovers and could be easily picked out by a combination of this appearance and its paler plumage. Obviously, my binocular views were best for picking out jizz-related characteristics. Besides the size and structure, I noted that the bird appeared front-heavy, and as a consequence appeared to, ‘totter forwards a few paces before stopping and pecking at the sand’. This pattern of movement was constant, apart from when it occasionally flew a few tens of metres. It was apparent that there was some truth in the adage about three or four paces compared to the Greater Sand Plovers eight or nine or so. In flight it again was an obvious plover, with a broadish white wing-bar showing in flight as it wheeled around from one place to the next. Also apparent with binoculars was the predominance of white plumage at the stubby looking rear-end of what was a dumpy looking bird. The legs were long and apparently black, and even at this range the bill looked like a far more delicate affair than that of the preceding Greater Sand Plovers. With such views it was difficult to make out any of the subtleties of its plumage, beyond the white underparts, separated by an orangey breast band and a darker face mask around the eye and apparently between the eye and bill. The upperparts were a light grey-brown.

With the borrowed ‘scopes (and particularly the second one when the bird was closer) at least some of the subtleties of the plumage and the Lesser v. Greater Sand Plover i.d. criteria could be discerned. The orange breast band was clearly defined at its interface with the white throat patch but merged into the white belly. Equally, the throat patch had a clearly defined edge where it reached the facial pattern. This comprised an ‘eye-shadow’ effect mask, an off white supercilium and an otherwise light dull grey-brown cheek patch and cap. There was some darker feathering around and, in particular, in front of the eye but the ‘mask’ was a deceptively variable feature. The upperparts were all grey brown and relatively uniform, although there was an apparent darker line caused by the structure of the folded wing, approximating to the edge of the scapulars and inner wing coverts. The upperparts feathers appeared old and evenly worn. The folded flight feathers appeared slightly darker, in particular, the leading edge of the visible primaries. Similarly, the darker tip to the tail was often visible against the pure white undertail coverts / outer tail feathers. The legs, bill and eye were all black. The legs were long-looking in comparison to Ringed Plover, and the upper tarsus was apparent, as was a bulge at the leg-joint. However, the birds front-heavy pot-bellied appearance made it appear to have not particularly long legs. The bill was Ringed Plover like, rather than Grey Plover like as with Greater Sand Plover.

In flight the wing-bar was obvious, and was broad and parallel on the inner wing, whilst it tapered to a point on the outer wing. As such, it was far more obvious on the inner wing. No indication of feet overlapping the tail could be discerned from the flight views obtained. The tail pattern was not recorded.

Overall, it was a far more ‘delicate’ bird than the more robust looking Greater Sand Plovers I have seen. It was reminiscent of one of the Nearctic plover species (Piping Plover?) in terms of size, structure and appearance. A cracking bird!  

Lesser Sand Plover, Rimac, Lincolnshire, May 2002 (all photographs credited to Graham Catley).

American Herring Gull – Garrygall, Barra, Outer Hebrides, 17^th April 2016

Calum Scott and I had been ‘planning’ a night out for a catch-up over some beers forever, and it had just never happened. I had texted him on Tuesday the 5th April 2016, soon after returning from my trip to North Uist for the Gyr Falcon, to chase him up about the same, and also to enquire whether he had any plans to go to see the American Herring Gull and White-billed Diver on Barra.

For what were to become understandable reasons (he and his Dad had been struggling with his Mum’s ill-health) Calum didn’t respond to my text, or at least not until Thursday the 14th April, when he texted me asking whether I, ‘fancied that beer tonight’.

As I was driving back from a couple of days away, involving meetings in both Inverness and at SNH Battleby, near Perth, I failed to respond.

Also, as, due to my travels I was tired, I intended having my tea and then ‘phoning Calum to decline his kind offer, but propose we do so on another occasion. However, just as I was sitting down to my tea Calum ‘phoned me. I explained my situation and he agreed that he wouldn’t be too keen to go out under similar circumstances. However, he then suggested he was making plans to go to Barra, and, in effect, I invited myself along. Calum explained the complications with the CalMac ferries and also indicated he had made arrangements with friends to stay with them on the island, so he indicated that he would have to check out that they were okay with an extra guest.

So, all of a sudden, it looked quite likely I was off on another Hebridean twitch! Calum and I liaised over the next day or so, and we both monitored the CalMac website about sailing times. Finally it was resolved that we would catch the Saturday sailing at around 13:00, enabling a sensible departure from Edinburgh for Oban. Also, Calum informed me that he had successfully negotiated with Bruce and Kathy Taylor for an extra guest...... .

Game on! Calum picked me up at just after 09:00 on Saturday the 16th April, and we then had an uneventful journey to Oban, where we parked up, walked to the ferry terminal, purchased our ferry tickets and then lunched on the front in Oban having visited the ‘seafood shack’ near the ferry terminal.

We also walked to the Tesco's store and service station and purchased a large amount of bottled beer and wine (plus a 5 litre fuel plastic storage can for Bruce) and then returned to the ferry terminal, before we took turns to go back to Calum’s car and bring our rucksacks back. Finally, we had both assembled everything we were taking with us to Barra, and so we then moved into the waiting lounge area before we finally boarded to Clansman.

The crossing from Oban to Castlebay, like the journey from Edinburgh to Oban, was large uneventful; whilst on deck Calum and I managed a White-tailed Eagle in the Sound of Mull and a Great Skua and Manx Shearwaters in The Minch, plus a couple of bottles each of very good beer from Colonsay, and whilst not on deck we managed a meal each in the restaurant.... . But all in all, it was ‘uneventful’... . ‘twas though, enjoyable, especially chatting to Calum and watching Barra appear in the distance and then come ever close..... .

Once the Clansman had moored, we loaded ourselves up, and disembarked, to be greeted by Bruce on the harbour-side. We loaded up the car, and then journeyed around the west side of the island and north to Eoligarry. The strategy was to check out places such as Allasdale for the American Herring Gull on the way north, and then to try for the White-billed Diver off Eoligarry ferry.

As it happened, we were unsuccessful in both cases, so we returned south to Breivig and the home of Bruce and Kathy, where we were welcomed in by Kathy and then settled in for a very convivial evening of chatting, drinking beer and wine and eating nibbles.

The following morning, having breakfasted, we journeyed south to Garrygall and (unsuccessfully) looked for the gull there, before we again continued around the west side of the island, stopping off at various places including Allasdale, where we visited the Glaucous Gull and then north to Eoligarry. Here this time, we successfully located the White-billed Diver, a Scottish tick for me. We then returned south and checked out Aird Mhor (for old times’ sake!) and then returned to Garrygall.

This time we were successful, as various Herring Gulls were hanging around the crofts there, and were accompanied by the American Herring Gull.

We watched it over the course of the next couple of hours (either side of our scheduled visit to the Co-op in Castlebay) as it effortless hung in the wind over the road and crofts, and occasionally landed on the rocky outcrops in the nearby fields.

Despite my now increasing problems with streaming eyes (I had ‘itchy’ eyes before I set off with Calum and it would appear, with hindsight, that the previous owner of Bruce and Kathy’s place had kept cats and I had what in effect, was an allergic reaction to the cat hair that probably remained) meaning I was struggling with the bright light, it rapidly became easy to pick out amongst the other gulls when in flight (though less so when on the ground).

In flight it was obviously structurally – in terms of size and shape – identical to the rest of the Herring Gulls present. However, even in the relatively bright light through streaming eyes, it was invariably ‘obvious’ as the darkest bird and was, as suggested, ‘easy’ to pick out.

In flight, as can be seen from my attempted flight shot, it had very dark (and almost uniformly so) under-wings, and a dark under-tail, together with ‘dusky’ dark under-parts, contrasting with a paler head. It also had an all dark bill. As a result, I even (stretching a point) invoked Heerman’s Gull...... .

When on the ground (and it did occasionally land and provide the chance of ‘scope views) its appearance was strangely changeable. At times it similarly appeared very dark, but equally, at other times was occasionally passed off as a 1st winter Herring Gull; its appearance was obviously variable depending on the way it was affected by light and shade, its stance, etc.. But more generally, it was a brute, sometimes appearing particularly large-headed and heavily-billed.

It had a pale head (with a faint darker ‘mask’) and a darker shawl or necklace. Its bill was all dark with perhaps a hint of a paler base. The eye was dark too. The under-parts were dusky dark and ‘smudgy’. There was dark barring on the lower belly and under-tail. The tail was all dark. The primaries were also all dark, as were the bunched tertials. The wing coverts were spangled dirty off- white with darker brown centres, and two bands comprising feathers of different ages / shades / states of coverts were apparent.

A stonking bird – very informative and instructive, and not at all a dodgy Herring Gull half-a-tick....... .

 Hume’s Warbler – Denburn Wood, Crail, Fife, 7^th November 2000

A sketch of the Hume's Warbler attempting and failing to capture just how incredibly wet and dark it was when it gave itself up.

My loan pager came good again on the 7th November 2000, just a few days after the epic Long-tailed Shrike twitch. It informed me of the presence of a Hume’s (Yellow-browed) Warbler at Denburn Wood, Crail around about the same time that my ex-, Gillian, arrived back from work and the child-minders with the girls.

I carefully negotiated permission to leave her alone with the girls again and having ‘phoned Graham Clark just in case, I departed at about 14:00. The day was truly evil, continual pouring rain and howling winds making driving ‘exciting’, to say the least. The roads were flooded in places and obstructed by branches, etc., in others. A combination of this, and the more usual tractors and learner drivers, meant that it took a good while to get to Crail and I was convinced that I would dip out as a result, as it was getting very dark by the time I reached the East Neuk reaches of Fife.

But I was buoyed up by my recent successes and consoled myself with the maxim, “If you don’t buy a ticket, you can’t win the raffle,” (or perhaps that should be the lottery).

Finally, at 15:20 I arrived at the gates of the church, and quickly gathered up my binoculars, coat, etc.. The light was very poor, and the weather was still wild, so I was not overly confident. I rushed through the graveyard and into the Denburn Wood valley and was relieved to see a small group of birders on one of the paths within the wood. Surely, they weren’t on it?

I quickly made my way to them and was ushered over as indeed they were on it. Almost instantly on arrival I was put onto the bird as it erratically worked through some low cover beyond the trees in the valley floor. Viewing conditions were dire as the light was so poor, but at least I was able to get on the bird and be reasonable sure that it was a yellow-browed warbler spp.. Almost as soon as I had seen the bird moved on, and despite my attempts to relocate it further up the valley where I guessed it might be moving to, I failed.

I thought I would be thwarted by the continuing deterioration in conditions, as my views had not been good enough to allow my conscience to count it. However, after a brief interlude during which the bird was ‘lost’, it was relocated and this time gave me vital (if brief) good views as it moved through low cover on the other side of the valley. It was below us as we stood on one of the paths and in relatively sparse cover that included a brash pile and two spindly alders. These views were indeed vital because the bird was not seen again that day.

Particularly when in the brash pile and the two spindly alders I was able to get views good enough to make something of a knee-jerk comparison to Yellow-browed Warbler. Compared to Yellow-browed Warbler it was apparently anaemic – basically like the difference between Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff. I was not able to examine the details of the plumage, etc., in any great detail, but I did see that the wing coverts, tertials, etc., were ‘less contrasty’ and that the legs and bills were darker than those of Yellow-browed Warbler.

I was extremely lucky to see this bird, and another tick, so soon after the Long-tailed Shrike twitch, and I also saw Angus Murray, Alan Lauder, etc., before leaving

The bird was still there the following day but was replaced by a Yellow-browed Warbler soon afterwards, leading to some mild confusion!    

I've not been able to locate any images of the Denburn Wood, Crail, Hume's Warbler from November 2000, so, for no reason other than it being a superb image, here's one of a bird at Doi Pha Hom Pok National Park - Ban Luang Resort on Doi Angkhang, Chiang Mai, Thailand taken on the  28th January 2017 (photograph credited to Natthaphat Chotjuckditku).

Further apologies, other tasks, scruffy notebook sketches of Slender-billed Curlew and must try harder in 2026

Shockingly, not since uploading my Blackpoll Warbler account on the 22nd October 2025 have I posted a 'new species account'.

I did, on the 4th December 2025, try to make some excuses for this inexcusable failure.

I suggested moving my social media allegiances from Twitter / X to Bluesky, becoming distracted by my attempts to collate a 'World List' and becoming a tad disillusioned by having ticks taken off me, and in particular, my continuing 'subalpine warblers' nightmare, had all conspired against me being as diligent as I once was in terms of regularly compiling, illustrating and posting my nonsense.

However, I'm pleased to report, I have now collated a vey good basis for a World List.

This has involved involved creating a huge EXCEL (which I abhor!) file. 

More specifically, it has involved inputting each species I've seen species by species (in correct systematic order as per the most recent International Ornithological Committee (IoC) checklist (http://www.worldbirdnames.org/) ) row by row, and building out from this, column by column, out from my UK list, to my Western Palaearctic list (evidencing some of my early birding trips), and then to each continent (or, more precisely, country therein) subsequently visited (North America, South America, Asia (actually only the Kuala Lumpur area of Malaysia beyond Middle Eastern countries including Turkey, Israel, Jordan and Egypt), Australasia and Antarctica, (I've not been to (sub-Sahara) Africa.

Clearly, it's not just as simple as adding trip list totals together, due to huge overlap in the range of birds - the Bar-tailed Godwits I saw in New Zealand are immaterial given I first saw them in the UK for example, despite being a bird species I saw just about as far away from the Ribble Estuary, where I saw my first, as it is possible to get.

And, given that I've birded for many decades, some species I saw years ago have been miraculously (and confusingly!) transformed into other species as a result of splitting or, at the very least, renaming.

So it's involved a LOT of trawling through old notebooks, trip lists and trip reports, creating of lists on Bubo and researching using online resources like eBird, etc., to create what I now have. However, at least now I have done the donkey work I'll never have to do it again, and the list will only improve as I work on it, and hopefully, increase as I go on more trips.

So it's been an interesting process, in many, many ways. For instance, I came across my sketch of Slender-billed Curlew in my Morocco notebook from December 1991/January 1992, and, by a quirky set of circumstances, I have ended up trading this page from my notebook (as an 'important historical record') with the fantastically talented Hungarian wildlife artist, Szabolcs Kokay, for an original work by him, as he is so fascinated with this now sadly extinct species. Not a bad deal, at least as far as I'm concerned!

It's too early to divulge anything as sordid as my World List total, but suffice to say, the exercise has done a lot to reinvigorate my interest in the same, and even made me speculate about a reasonable World List target to aim for over the next few years.

So, although I now intending continuing to improve this good draft World List (by re-visiting old notebooks, writing trip reports and creating trip lists and country lists on Bubo, and double-checking the good draft in doing so), planning and going on more big trips to increase my World List, and, in the New Year, returning to a task which I'm fascinated by (an investigation of the historical growth of both the official British and Scottish lists, and a comparison with my equivalents) I WILL get back up to speed with my blogposts in the near future.

Honest.

Seasons greetings.

Apologies, Subalpine Warbler hell, and other gripes

So. It's been a while.

I'll admit to having lost momentum, being too busy, doing too many other things (some bird-related, like attempting, retrospectively, to collate my world list) to have compiled, illustrated and posted any new 'new species accounts' for way too long.

Meanwhile, my move from Twitter / X to BlueSky (fundamentally a very good thing) has reduced 'traffic' as people are no longer necessarily aware of my postings.

I will get back up to speed, honestly. There's plenty more accounts yet to be posted.

But, I have to admit, the current taxonomic upheavals haven't helped.

How can birds which can be differentiated in the field be 'lumped' (the redpoll group) whereas others, that can't be differentiated in the field remain 'split' (the subalpine warbler group)?

As a case in point, I was very glad to take in the Levenwick 'Western Subalpine Warbler' on my visit to Shetland last autumn.

This conveniently backfilled another void in my list which had been created by the splitting of subalpine warblers, given my poor record with them. The bird had been caught and ringed, and scrutinised in the field by all-comers, and proclaimed to be a Western.

So I was suitably pleased not just to take it in, but, also, on my return home, to write it up, and arrange to post my account here (as what was my last but one account).

However, it has since emerged that the bird was (presumably on the basis of genetic material) re-identified as an Eastern Subalpine Warbler. 

D'oh!!!!!

What chance do we stand?????

So I've taken down the posting about it. And I STILL need Western Subalpine Warbler!

Collins Guide plate of Subalpine Warblers subscript: unless it's a spring male, just don't even go there.

So yes, I'm all a bit disillusioned; my listing was once a relatively simple exercise, by now it is mired in science way beyond me. Just keeping up with taxonomic changes is a full-time task on its own!

However, I will be back!