Siberian Thrush – near the quay, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, 5^th October 1992

First winter male Siberian Thrush. ..... and as such, not actually the one that is detailed in the main part of this account, but my second one, which was seen many, many years later on Unst ('cos I'm greedy 😅). 

My account in the article I wrote for the ‘My Best Days Birding in Scotland’ series in Birding Scotland replicated as part of the Eye-browed Thrush new species account ended with, “And as good as that twitch was it did not compare with the previous days eventful birding, my best days birding in Scotland,” which was a reference to the twitch we went on the next day for the Siberian Thrush on neighbouring North Ronaldsay.

As alluded to, during the evening after the Eye-browed Thrush twitch, plans were being finalised for a boat from Fair Isle to North Ronaldsay so that the twitchers amongst us could see the Siberian Thrush there.

A little bit of context here. North Ronaldsay was in the middle of a blinding spell of birds. Just a week or so before the Siberian Thrush turned up on Thursday the 1st of October, there had been a Yellow-browed Bunting between the 22nd and 23rd September and a Pallas’s Grasshopper Warbler between the 23rd and 25th September.

The occurrence of these two species on the neighbouring North Ronaldsay (and the coincidence of both of them on the 23rd?) had proved too much for some of those on Fair Isle (which, comparatively, was undergoing a quiet spell), and seemingly, charters had been arranged. These were in the form of flights .... early instances of cheque book twitching may have been involved...... .

Consequently, a week later, either the cheque book twitchers where no longer around, or they weren’t up for the financial hit of another charter, or certainly not another flight........ . Meanwhile, those birders at the Observatory with Shetland affinities were sticking to their ‘never twitch south’ mantra and weren’t interested in any potential twitch to North Ronaldsay, all of 30 miles away (and visible on a clear day).

Dave Suddaby, who at the time was working for the RSPB in Shetland and staying at the Obs, was clearly hacked off about all the moaning about, “Why aren’t we on North Ronaldsay?” and, “If only we could get to North Ronaldsay”. So, suddenly one evening whilst we were grumping in the Common Room he asked us in a rather challenging way, “Do you want me to arrange a boat?”

We did. Obviously.

So it was that we went on a boat trip on Sunday the 4th October. And what a boat trip! As mentioned, the article referenced ended with, “And as good as that twitch was it did not compare with the previous days eventful birding, my best days birding in Scotland”.

However, this is poetic licence. This twitch was truly epic and very dramatic and ..... plain mad.

At 06:00 on the morning of the 4th October we were assembled on the jetty at North Haven. There were some 22 of us. All eagerly awaiting the boat that had been chartered from Lerwick for us by Dave Suddaby to take us from Fair Isle to North Ronaldsay, and back.... .

But where was it? It was still dark, and there was no sign of the boat. However, it did eventually arrive, appearing very suddenly as it was sailing with no navigation lights at all, despite the dark. It was ever so skilfully guided to a halt alongside the jetty; no back-thrust was used so it just rammed into the jetty, nearly killing one of our number in the process. Worse (if that were possible?), at the time the North Haven was being upgraded. The jetty was being improved and modernised using huge pre-cast concrete blocks, and a new breakwater was being constructed using huge rough-hewn stone blocks. Some of the still to be used concrete blocks were stored under water, and equally, the new breakwater was only partially constructed, and as such the boat passed over the top of these hazards. The crew of the Good Shepherd knew all about them, and so avoided them in their routine activities. The crew of our boat clearly didn’t but fortunately did...... .

Anyway, without trepidation(?) we boarded at the start of what proved to be a 4.5 hour crossing between Fair Isle and North Ronaldsay, or on average 6 or 7 miles an hour, or jogging speed maybe... .

Fortunately, it was flat calm, which provided for a relatively uneventful crossing at least until we got to Orkney waters....... .

It turned out that our chartered vessel was the ‘Storm Petrel Special’ which usually crossed from Sandwick to Mousa so that tourists could visit the Mousa Broch (or maybe it was the Noss boat?). It was crewed by two veteran class Shetlanders, who were evidently the ‘hands’ on the boat (who in hindsight were involved in some cash in hand ‘foreigner’). It quickly emerged that they had never left mainland Shetland, and as such had no experience of Fair Isle waters, let alone Orkney ones. It also emerged that they were navigating our course to North Ronaldsay using a road atlas (which had clearly worked in terms of them getting from Lerwick or Sandwick to Fair Isle, but...... ).

Just over three years previously there was the Marchioness disaster in London when a pleasure boat sank after a collision. 51 people had drowned. Five and a half years earlier, the roll-on roll-off car ferry Herald of Free Enterprise had capsized after sailing with its bow doors open..... . 191 people had died. Subsequently, regulations about safety (inventories of passenger numbers, quotas of numbers of passengers, adequate life-jackets for all passengers, etc.) were all massively strengthened. Except, it seemed on our vessel; none of this was apparent. No wonder the navigation lights were off!

Anyway, we somehow sighted land and headed for it. Fortunately, it was Orkney..... . So it was that we directed them to North Ronaldsay..... .As the bird was near the quay on the south-west promontory of the island those in the know suggested a course to the west of the island for deeper water. This advice was duly ignored, and therefore we nearly grounded in the shallows and ploughed through some fishing gear. Once our trusty salty seamen had freed the fishing gear from propeller, we finally limped on towards the quay on North Ronaldsay. We were delivered there just 4.5 hours after we had departed.

At the quay the warden, Kevin Woodridge and his assistants were waiting for us. Once we had disembarked, we were escorted all of 200 or 300 m along the road to the bird. This was on the bank between the road and the beach where it was feeding in the open in the warm sunshine, and if not, scuttling underneath an abandoned pallet on the bank.

Good views were obtained from the road and from the beach. It was a stunning bird in an ‘odd’ (not typically illustrated) plumage. It was clearly a first winter bird, and a first winter female at that. It was slightly smaller than a Blackbird and superficially similar to a first-winter female one.

And then we got back on the boat... . Oh, and on the return journey we were accompanied by Franco Mareovic who seized the opportunity to get from North Ronaldsay to Fair Isle for free. Thankfully, even so, the return journey was uneventful, though we had good views of Risso’s Dolphins and also Sooty Shearwaters.

A truly epic trip then.

Twitching. I can handle it…… .

Occasionally, still to this day, I have that revelatory moment when chatting to another random birder somewhere (generally in Shetland) and we’re explaining to each other why we don’t need Siberian Thrush because we saw one on North Ronaldsay when we were on Fair Isle and we say, “You weren’t on that boat were you?”. We then have a fantastic reminisce about this truly mad escapade.

Precisely this happened in October 2016 we were birding somewhere in the north of Unst when news broke of a Siberian Thrush at Uyeasound. Incredibly, Ken Shaw managed to get the van up to 94 miles an hour (or 49 miles an hour as we later told Amanda) as we hurtled south.

Once we parked up in Uyeasound we were nearly equally fast (over the first 50 m or so) as we dashed for the bird. Eventually, after a long nervous wait, we each got very good views of it after it suddenly decided to flee its refuge in the back garden of one of a row of houses and fly off to the rear of a nearby modern fishing boat shed, nearly taking out Jonny Holliday en route (as a Yorkshireman he failed to take what would have been a very good slip catch).

Having found a White’s Thrush on Unst the previous year, and having seen another there the next day, Ken and I were truly the Zoothera kings of Unst (mainly because others weren’t able to see our White’s Thrush, or refused to twitch other people’s birds, but all the same....).

Siberian Thrush twitch, near the quay, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, October 1992

Siberian Thrush twitch, near the quay, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, October 1992

Pete Ewer attempting to maintain excitement levels after the Siberian Thrush twitch, at sea, October 1992

Siberian Thrush twitchers, on our frankly remarkable successful return to North Haven, Fair Isle, Shetland, October 1992

Siberian Thrush, near the quay, North Ronaldsay, Orkney, October 1992 (photograph credited to Pete Ewer).

Siberian Thrush, Uyeasound, Unst, Shetland, October 2016 (photograph credited to John Nadin).

 

Glaucous-winged Gull – Dorman’s Pool, Tees-side, Cleveland, 7^th January 2009

Great news, much needed after the awful experience of north-east London the night before (Burnley had succumbed to a 4.1 defeat against Tottenham Hotspur in the first leg of the semi-final of the League Cup). The bird had been around for since New Year’s Eve, and it offered the chance of a tick (it was a second for the UK) so early in 2009. So it was in my thoughts, very much in my thoughts, in terms of my journey back north after my trip to South-east England in the New Year on Monday the 7th January.

And don’t you just love it when a plan comes together? I left the frozen wastes of St. Albans at c.09:30, and I had a good journey up the M1/A1(M). As luck would have it, news confirming the bird was still there arrived in a timely manner just as I got close to the A18 junction, such that I was able to turn off and continue to Tees-side with no break in my journey. This situation continued with the exception that I desperately needed screen-wash, so much so that I drove past the assembled birders looking at Cowpen Bewley tip and Saltholme Pools in a failed bid to find a garage to fill up at. This merely delayed and frustrated me, as, in effect, I completed a circuit through Tees-side hell on earth, before returning to Saltholme Pools.

Here there were still some 50 odd birders (harsh.... 😁) assembled on either side of the road forlornly / occasionally scanning the gulls roosting on the pools or flying overhead, between the pools and two distant tips.

I was not optimistic. The whole scene was a grey, cold vision of hell, or indeed, hell frozen over. A Short-eared Owl offered a brief interlude, but otherwise there was little positive to report. I was concerned that I was too much after the event, and that the light would go before there was any positive news. There were loads of gulls everywhere, but it was a way too large an area to cover. I struck up a conversation with someone who had seen it earlier, but nothing he said gave me any real comfort.

Anyway, just when I least expected it, there was a flurry of activity across the frozen wastes near Dorman’s Pool. Hopes were raised, and then confirmed by a ‘phone call received by someone nearby. There was then a typically manic Le Mans start as the assembled throng dis-assembled and raced around to Long Drag. This involved driving along a muddy track and parking anywhere, before climbing up onto a slag-heap bank to overlook the frozen Dorman’s Pool. Various birders were already up there and on the bird, and as I looked for a spec., one of them (who turned out to be Jason McManus) offered me a look in his ‘scope. Having got on it I was then able to enjoy prolonged good views as it stood on the ice, preened and drank. These views were illuminated by informed comments between Jason and I and others as we took in its finer details. The bird was very much as described / illustrated.

It was generally the same size, shape and appearance as Herring Gull in the same plumage, but was stockier / heavier and its pot-bellied / drop-tailed stance contributed to this. Its head was largish, and the dark-coloured eye gave a strange appearance, its bill had washed-out colour, its legs were bright pink. The mantle and upper-wings one shade greyer than Herring Gull, with a huge crescent (the secondaries) and large spot (tertials) and ‘faded’ grey primary tips with neat, regular mirrors, and complicated dark brown streaking on the head, neck and upper breast.

I haven’t seen any of the subsequent records (why would you?) but I was reminded of my reaction to ‘Herring Gulls’ or ‘Western Gulls’ with pale primary tips when I lived and worked in California…. 😊.

Glaucous-winged Gull, Dorman’s Pool, Tees-side, Cleveland, January 2009 (photograph credited to Willie McBay).

 Hudsonian Godwit – Eden Estuary, Guardbridge, Fife, 11^th November 2020

Over the course of the weekend 7th / 8th November ‘my’ joiners, Dylan and James, were finally able to create and assemble my much-anticipated bookcase on the entire end wall of my living room at 62 High Street.

This had been delayed as a result of Dylan coming into contact with someone with COVID-19 resulting in him having to self-isolate for 14 days. Thus, the critical first stage of transforming 62 High Street was postponed for a week. However, they more than made up for lost time, and completed all but the over-door component of the bookcase on the Saturday and Sunday.

As a result, on Monday the 9th November I was busy all day with some serious cleaning and tidying in the aftermath, and then with progressively unpacking the boxes in which my books, etc., had been stored for weeks, and slowly putting them on the shelves. It was a full day.

At around 20:30 that evening there was some very interesting ‘breaking news’. For example, at 20:39 a message on RBA stated “Fife HUDSONIAN GODWIT on 3rd November Eden Estuary [identified from photograph]”…… . However, the first I knew was when I read a message regarding the same which had been posted by Fred Fearn on our Birding Banter WhatsApp group.

Wow!!! Wow!!! And double Wow!!!

There was some confusion about the date of the sighting (or, more accurately, when the photographs from which it was (re-)identified were taken), which seemed to be the 3rd November. Whichever, as several days had elapsed, I tried not to get too excited, and indeed, I didn’t plan jumping in the car before dawn the following morning.

I did though join in with the response on the group, simply saying, “Flipping heck!”.

I knew that the following morning, that of Tuesday the 10th November, certain Fife-based members of our WhatsApp group would undoubtedly be there.

Indeed, they were, and predictably, positive news came through at 10:35 that morning, suggesting that the godwit had been seen from the Eden Estuary Centre at 10:25, before it flew east with c.25 Black-tailed Godwits.

I engaged in a WhatsApp dialogue with John Nadin, asking him, “What can you tell me John?” He confirmed he had seen it (“It’s on”) along with six others, including Ken Shaw. However, he also confirmed that the flock had flown away, high….. .

I cracked, and ‘phoned John. He had left the scene and was driving home, but proceeded to give me a typically garbled account about events.

He confirmed what perhaps I had already decided, that being at the scene early the following morning was my best plan of action.

Very soon after we ended our conversation the bombardment of images and footage taken by John commenced. This was helpful though, as again it confirmed what John had indicated, identification of the bird amongst Black-tailed Godwits (unless in flight) and, especially when distant in indifferent light, was anything but easy; it was a subtle bird.

Early that afternoon, the bird was relocated further out on the estuary. A couple of messages on RBA confirmed this, and John was also good enough to send me a couple of maps with way-markers indicating where the bird had been seen, presumably taken from the Fife WhatsApp group. He reiterated though, that he still thought my best option was the following morning at the Eden Estuary Centre. He also randomly indicated that Mervyn Griffin’s Cory’s Shearwater had been accepted and then re-commenced the onslaught of images and footage, at 13:40, 13:59, 14:26, 16:23 and 22:43, the last being followed by a message saying, “Good luck if you head over tomorrow Brian”.

Meanwhile, I had another dialogue with David Steel, as I was aware he was coming off the Isle of May for the winter during the week, and as such I had tentatively put two and two together envisaging that maybe we could team up, or at least meet up…. . We chatted, and we also exchanged a series of WhatsApp messages, including several from the Fife WhatsApp group providing more details about where and when the bird had been relocated, and how to get there.

Finally, that night Ken contacted me by WhatsApp, asking, “Hiya, all OK? You coming over for the Godwit at some stage?” I confirmed I was and Ken reiterated that, “Limited space there. Earlier is better. If raining, go to left hand side of the hide”, and, when I suggested I knew it was subtle unless in flight Ken responded, “Yip that is right. Good luck”.

Given all that had been going on, that night I slept relatively well, have prepared my gear for early the following morning.

Early on the morning Wednesday the 11th November I managed to get up at 07:00 without using an alarm. Having done do, I quickly prepared and walked to the car, conveniently parked close by in the middle of Queensferry. As such I had departed by 07:30, and, after an uneventful drive I arrived in Guardbridge and located the small car-park for the Eden Estuary Centre adjacent to the access road works that were ongoing for the Edenside Paper-mill. It was still sometime before 08:30. As I had been warned, parking was very limited. All five or six spaces were occupied, and there were two unoccupied disabled parking places. I re-collected that there were cars abandoned in lay-bys and on the muddy verge alongside the main road, but rather ‘naughtily’ opted to park within the car-park, just not in a marked bay. I quickly (or as quickly as my age allowed) put on my wellies and leggings in anticipation of a long wait in dreich conditions…… .

From the car-park it was a very short walk to the Centre. This proved to be little more than an open-sided shelter overlooking the point at which the River Eden reached the estuary beyond.

The shelter was occupied by some twelve or so birders, most of whom I knew…. . It almost felt as though I was greeted fondly and excitedly; I was very flattered. For now, though, this didn’t matter, because it was immediately explained to me that my timing was perfect; the bird had literally just been located by Kris Gibb. Better still, as Kris was busy putting the news out, I was encouraged to use his ‘scope to make sure I saw it straight away, as this was already trained on the bird.

This I did. Obviously. The bird was feeding in the shallow water in the incoming tideline, in loose association with a very few Redshank, with a long straggling line of Pink-footed Geese resting in the shallows beyond.

As such, I banged it in immediately on arrival!

I gratefully relinquished my place at Kris’ ‘scope, and then had the task of finding my one space, and then locating the bird in my ‘scope. To do so, I went around the outside of the shelter to a position which afforded clear, but wet, viewing.

I quickly set up my ‘scope and very quickly located the bird, primed as I had been by using Kris’. All I had to do was locate the straggle of Pink-footed Geese the advancing tide-line and scan along them until I found the godwit. This I did, and having done so, I remained on it, taking in what I could at the range involved (and in the dull ‘ambience’).

Conversely, the atmosphere was euphoric, and as I suggested, I felt very much part of this. The banter – about me just arriving as it was finally found – was very good fun, as I finally enjoyed the company of Dennis Morrison, Andy Stirrat, Billy McLennan,et  al., including a couple apparently from down south who, seemingly, given her response to me; she seemed to know me…. .

In this atmosphere, we all watched it in a relaxed manner for the next 23 minutes before (after a couple of false starts) it eventually flew off with four Black-tailed Godwit, with other small groups loosely associated with them.

Kris, who excelled throughout, was again putting the news out, and asked that we stayed on it as it disappeared further and higher and further away out into the estuary beyond, as others were still en route and any gen was good gen.

This we did, and it was interesting hearing people commentating as to where the bird was within the flock…… . Andy stayed on it forever with his ‘scope, but by now I had decided to quit whilst I was (very definitely) ahead; I packed up my ‘scope and prepared to leave, but as I did so Kris located a Spotted Redshank (which I saw with my bins) and Andy mentioned that Kris had earlier located on a very distant White-tailed Eagle on a post at the mouth of the estuary (which I saw with my bins – the post that is).

So, well within 45 minutes of arriving I was leaving, saying goodbye to everyone to whom I had already chatted, and also Stuart Rivers (but not Martin Scott) both of whom were on the other side of the gallery from where I had eventually stationed myself.

Having removed my (unnecessary?) wellies and leggings and loaded everything up into the car, I departed, and after another uneventful drive, I was home before 09:30, after a very successful (and vaguely illegal given the COVID-19 restrictions?) three-hour raid on deepest Fife.

The bird? Well, subtle is right.

When at rest it was a typical godwit, perhaps intermediate between Bar-tailed and Black-tailed in size and appearance, but although smaller than the latter, somehow stockier, at least to my eye. It also seemed to have a slightly stouter, long slightly upturned bill, and maybe shorter legs? As such, it was somewhat reminiscent of a dowitcher in ‘jizz’. At the ranges involved plumage details were not really discernible. However, it did appear duller and greyer than ‘regular’ godwits. The prominent supercilium in front of the eye was evident though on occasions.

In flight, I was able to see the ‘Zoothera thrush’ underwing, and also the darker upper-wing, with a narrow, restricted white wing-bar.

A very educational bird.

And my 499th species in Britain.

All very successful. …….. I even harboured thoughts of going back for seconds if it over-wintered / if COVID-19 restrictions allowed / if the weather enabled. None of which occurred… .

Hudsonian Godwit, Eden Estuary, Guardbridge, Fife, November 2020, indicating very well just how I saw it for much of the time (photograph credited to Martin Scott).

Hudsonian Godwit, Eden Estuary, Guardbridge, Fife, November 2020, (photographs credited to John Anderson).

 Dusky Thrush – Beeley, Derbyshire, 9^th December 2016

Stonking white-ish supercilium, warmish grey-brown upperparts, very strongly black flecked white underparts (more than shown?), strongish dark bill.

Metaphorically, the ink on my account of the Killdeer twitch was not even dry when it emerged there was a Dusky Thrush in Derbyshire, and better yet, north-east Derbyshire. I had returned from Lerwick to Aberdeen overnight on Saturday the 3rd December / Sunday the 4th December and from Aberdeen to Edinburgh on Sunday the 4th December.

At 15:35 that day Rachel Jones posted her first photograph of the Dusky Thrush on the UK Bird Identification Facebook page. Whilst it very quickly was established that the photographs involved had been taken in Derbyshire and then in north-east Derbyshire, it was only later, at 20:40, that it emerged via Birdforum, that the location was Beeley..... the very same Beeley that I went through every-time I visited my Dad in nearby Wingerworth, Chesterfield.

Anyway, after a lot of the typical social media guff on Birdforum that night, the good news was that there were positive messages on Rare Bird Alert the following morning, and these continued for the rest of the week...... .

So, my next problem was when could I get there?

Once I arrived back from Shetland / Aberdeen I had a very welcome day and a half at home on the Sunday and Monday before I departed to London for a quarterly Chartered Institute of Ecology and Environmental Management Membership Admissions Committee meeting during what was planned to be literally a flying visit on Tuesday the 6th December.

However, due to fog-related delays I eventually aborted the outbound flight and returned home (despite having checked-in, cleared security, walked to the gate and even boarded the plane....).

Frustratingly, this meant I could have gone to Derbyshire at the beginning of the week...... .

Subsequently the problem was that I was going to Keith in north-east Scotland to return to work on the Blackhillock to Keith 275 kV Cables Project before I could contemplate a trip to Derbyshire. Further, I was already scheduled to be going to Lancashire on Saturday the 10th December for a football game in Burnley and a From the Jam performance in Clitheroe.

Additionally, there was no way I could contemplate twitching a Dusky Thrush in Beeley without factoring in visiting my ailing Dad in Chesterfield....... .

A game-plan emerged which involved making my visit north a midweek one and then driving back to Edinburgh on the night of Thursday the 8th December, enabling me to be in position to go for it early the following morning, hopefully then connecting with it before having the best part of a day at Dad’s before going to Burnley as planned on the Saturday.... .

This all came to pass.

I planned on getting up at 04:30 but as I was awake earlier, I got up and sent off some good while before the alarm. The journey was uneventful; I stopped for a nap at Tebay Services and was delayed by the rush hour congestion on the M61 and M60 so I didn’t arrive until gone 10:.00 or so (well into the last session of the India v. England test in Mumbai which was on Test match Special and helped pass the journey....).

Arrive I did in what was a very busy Beeley. Having quickly assessed the congested situation I opted to park on one of the roads in a space a departing birder was just vacating.

I had largely already assembled my gear in a brief ‘pit-stop’ near the Sparrowpit (appropriately!) so I was quickly ready.

But where to go........?? Two main focal points of activity were evident; one further along the road where birders were loosely congregated and one in the playing field area behind nearby buildings.

I opted for the latter, which was the nearer option.

This proved to be a good choice as the object of my quest proved to be distantly (and difficultly) visible on the ground in a small field on the hillside to the north of the village. Once I had garnered the necessary information from the garbled and limited directions available (and located the right telegraph pole and area of the right field relative to that) I got (somewhat obscured) distant views of it.

Hurrah. However, the light was shocking and even zoomed up to 60x (or perhaps as my ‘scope was zoomed up to 60x!) the clarity was poor.

I could see enough though.

It was at this point that Jonny Holliday appeared and, after a chat, he returned to where he and Darren Woodhead were viewing from, and I joined them there. They were nearer to the Dukes Barns Outdoor Activity Centre and we each took advantage of the bacon butties which were brought out. This location was even further away but we then noticed that birders were assembling in the lower parts of the same field the bird was in. We made our way there, each carrying some of Darren’s painting gear.

Unfortunately, by the time we arrived there the bird had moved into the nearby hedge and although there were various sightings which resulted in me moving around, I didn’t see it there at all.

That is, until it was suddenly spotted at the very top of a large oak tree and as such was just about visible there through the crown of a similarly large oak tree closer to where Darren and I were. I struggled to get both my ‘scope and Darren on it before it flew off. It was fairly obvious that it was returning to favoured location in the village which Darren and I surmised was the orchard so we followed, or at least did so once he had assembled all of his gear, and we had joined the queue to squeeze through the stone stile.

Therefore, by the time had walked back onto the road in the village, and joined the assembled crowd in the same place I had seen them on my arrival, most good places were already taken.

It appeared that birders were looking over a tall dry-stone wall into the old orchard beyond but again there was a strange reluctance to give any coherent directions.

Anyway, given this, Darren and I opted to position ourselves in what to us was the obvious place, adjacent to a convenient gap in the wall created by what was evidently a recent collapse.

Darren assembled his painting gear amongst the dry-stone wall debris, and I place his ‘scope there and set up mine nearby.

It then became apparent that the bird was just a few metres away in the orchard. But as the wall was about two metres high, and as the ground level of the orchard was above than the road surface and adjacent verge, and as it also undulated, viewing was difficult.

People in front of me had specs which provided views over the wall, and fortuitously (and as anticipated!) one gave up his place and I took it. This involved standing on two of the fallen stones from the wall, but crucially I could now see over the wall, and better, I could get my elbows on it.

Brilliant.

For the next 20(?) minutes the bird performed really well, or at least it did for those of us with ‘front row seats’.

It fed on the ground in and around the base of an apple tree and around a cut section of apple tree trunk. Although it was often in a hollow and out of view even for the likes of me, it generally showed well, and was within 20 or 25 m! This was just as well, as the light was still appalling.

However, I made the most of my prime spot (well, generally so, although I got a big fail with Darren’s camera which he had handed to me!).

It unobtrusively fed on fallen apples, etc., on the floor of the orchard alongside Blackbirds, Fieldfares and so on.

It occasionally perched up on the cut section of apple tree trunk, and eventually flew up into one of the apple trees where it briefly remained, before finally flying off.

It was surprisingly big (just smaller than a Blackbird) and quite robust, with a strong head pattern. The upper-parts were predominately a greyish mid-brown with paler fringes to the remiges (with a hint of rufous brown in the tertials) whilst the under-parts were a cold white varyingly flecked with dark tips to the feathers, coalescing into blackish patches, in particular on the malar patch and sub-moustachial stripe, and, interestingly more on one side of the breast than the other. It had a stonking supercilium contrasting with the dark crown and eye-stripe and ear coverts. It had a partial eye-ring under the eye and a large white area on the throat. It had a strongish bill which was predominantly dark, though it had a paler base and cutting edge to the lower mandible.

Once it flew off Darren and I decided to cut our losses and he finished off his paintings, and we packed up our gear and returned to our cars. We chatted to various other birders (I was in the company of a minor celeb after all!) and contributed to the collection bucket outside the Dukes Barn. Here we also chatted to one of the staff members there, who was interested in Darren’s paintings for the centre, and who we showed the collapsed section of wall...... . All in all a wonderful twitch, in very many ways, the crowds of born again birders excepted... .

Dusky Thrush, Beeley, Derbyshire, December 2016 (photograph credited to Andy Butler).