Western Reef Heron – Foryd Bay, Gywnedd, 11^th June 2026

First, some context:

1. Driving woes

In August 2025, my closest friends from University, Gary, Chris, Steve and I went to Hull for a nostalgic visit to the city of our educating and growing up.

I drove Gary and I from Barrowford in Lancashire to Hull and back. On our return journey, we stopped off in Hebden Bridge for a pint, before continuing on to Barrowford.

On reaching Barrowford, I turned to car around on Church Street, where Gary lives, and parked up on the roadside near Gary’s. This is a quiet residential road on which lots of local residents and others park either side of the road, often (without blocking the pavements on either side for pedestrians, etc.) with two wheels on the kerb, as a reasonable amount of traffic uses the road (which becomes Wheatley Lane Road) when driving between Fence and Barrowford, etc., and vice versa.

At the time, Wheatley Lane Road was close off for roadworks some 2 or 300 m beyond Gary’s. I parked in a space just beyond which was a road sign advising motorists that the road ahead was closed. As I parked, I remarked to Gary that I hope no one would drive along and hit the sign and it hit my car later that night. Little did I know.

That evening, Gary and I continued what had been an indulgent few days by visiting our favourite Banker’s Draft pub; more pints of beer were I involved.

As a consequence, later that night, neither of us heard (what was apparently) a very loud crash outside, and although I’d later got up in the night and noticed blue lights flashing outside, and indeed looked out of my bedroom window, I failed to realise just what had happened.

The following morning, Gary was already out for his morning walk when I decided to put my bags, etc., in my car, for a prompt getaway back to South Queensferry. However, my car was no longer where I had left it, although there was some debris in the road. Confused, I ‘phoned Gary, and suggested I had a problem, as my car was missing. He immediately posted a message on his local Facebook group asking his neighbours if they knew anything. The equally immediate response was complete disbelief that we’d not heard anything!

Apparently, there was indeed an almighty crash, and various of Gary’s neighbours had rushed out to find that a black BMW had ploughed into the front roadside wing of my car and shunted it back onto the pavement and the rear of my car had then crashed into the nearby streetlight. The driver of the BMW was still in his car, shaken but otherwise unharmed, it would seem, and both police and ambulance were called, and quickly arrived. Then he was detained and both cars were taken away by a breakdown vehicle (presumably as they were blocking the road and pavement and maybe for evidential reasons).

Anyway, suffice to say, although I was subsequently provided with a courtesy car and was able to retrieve my possessions, I never saw my car again. I ultimately did very well from the uncontested insurance claim but then didn’t know what to do about arranging for a replacement car. Initially, I had courtesy cars, and either arranged for others to use their car rather than mine when I went to Lewis (Ken and Amanda Shaw) our hired from Bolt’s when I went to Unst (Chris Pendlebury and I) but eventually, I had to decide what to do about a replacement. For a while I managed perfectly well without a car and investigated hiring or joining a car club for those times – mainly twitches – when I really needed a car. Everything else was ‘manageable’, after all, I now enjoyed free bus travel throughout Scotland, and reduced rate train travel in the UK and beyond.

However, no longer being able to just jump in a car and leave within minutes concerned me.

When I was still deliberating, it emerged the youngest daughter Tessa had purchased a van and intended to convert it into a mobile living and working space, and as such planned selling her old car.

I can’t pretend that this immediately offered a solution, as I still intended doing without a car, but I slowly realised that purchasing Tessa’s old car from her was a good option for both of us. This I eventually did, knowing her Ford Ka was a very ‘compact’ number, and so ideal for parking on the High Street in South Queensferry, and that it only had 44,000 miles on the clock, but not quite realising its registration was from 2010 and as such, that it was a very old small car. Tessa was up front about it needing money spent on it when I purchased it, and I duly got it checked over and some small jobs sorted out. Soon afterwards the alternator failed, so I had that replaced, and it was subsequently fine.

However, subsequently, I remained reluctant to launch into long-distance twitches in a 16-year-old compact car with a small engine………. .

2. Listing woes

Unst 2025 delivered two new species, or so I thought. One of these, Western Subalpine Warbler, was a much needed pull back following the splitting of Subalpine Warbler. Following on from the Eastern Subalpine Warbler (also on Mainland Shetland) two years earlier, this unsightly glitch in my list was looking a lot more respectable.

However, ignominy of ignominies, irony of ironies, this tick was subsequently denied to me by the belated results of DNA analysis, which ‘proved’ that the bird which had been carefully examined in the hand and identified as a Western Subalpine Warbler, was, in fact(?) an Eastern Subalpine Warbler. FFS!!!!!!!

So, in the mid-2020s, lumping had denied me Green-winged Teal, Hooded Crow, Lesser Redpoll, Common Redpoll and Arctic Redpoll leaving me with just Redpoll, and splitting had deprived me of Subalpine Warbler and then decided I couldn’t have my ‘Western’ Subalpine Warbler after all!!!!!

To be minus five ticks when you are in the 510-520 range is a hell of a lot, and this was VERY dispiriting, to put it mildly. Then, to really force home the ignominy of still not having Western Subalpine Warbler on my list (easily my ‘softest’ target) in May 2026 Tessa finally was able to briefly be a Volunteer Warden for Steely on the Isle of May, arriving on the Monday after me and ‘my’ group had left on the Saturday and then seeing Dipper, a bird I haven’t seen on the Isle of May, on the 26th May, and Western Subalpine Warbler, a bird I haven’t seen full-stop, on the 28th May. Clearly, I now only have one daughter, and am actively spending the inheritance of my former daughter!

At various times subsequent to autumn 2025, two ticks were relatively readily available for me in faraway coastal eastern Norfolk and Suffolk, Black-winged Kite and Zitting Cisticola respectively. I was interested in going (and combining the trip with catching up with Mike Thompson in conveniently – for once – situated Southwold). At least, I was interested in going when Steely and I discussed it, and he suggested if I got to him in his wintering quarters in Yorkshire, he would drive from there. I was less than interested in going when this failed to materialise, and I was faced with driving my little car all that way. It just didn’t seem particularly viable, it didn’t enthuse.

Admittedly, part of this was me just getting older.

Could I really be bothered?

However, move on a good few weeks and months.

Late on the morning of Saturday the 6th June news broke of a Western Reef Heron in North Wales. Just when I came to realise this momentous news I cannot remember, but, as suggested, for a few days I equivocated, until the combined promptings of an unlikely few, including Chris Hirst (who sent me a WhatsApp message with a link to a Guardian newspaper article about the bird), Andy Williams (who forwarded a post by a friend of ours about seeing the bird, and asking whether I had been offered a lift) and Alison Downs (who pointed out I would regret it if I didn’t go) slowly changed my thinking.

Also instrumental was a WhatsApp message from Gary Hitchen in response to the dialogue I had had with Chris Hirst, suggesting I was welcome to stayover at his place in Barrowford.

As a result, I finally resolved to go for it on Thursday the 11th June. My alarm coincided with positive news, which is always a good combination. As such, I was off by 09.00 (the traffic earlier would not have been helpful). It was a very long drive, but I eventually arrived at the right place using the RBA App very successfully, some seven hours later. A few scattered people were evident around either side of a small group of buildings on the eastern side or the estuary, just immediately south of the point at which a tributary entered it.

I opted to continue just beyond, where a slightly larger group, were, I hoped, watching it. I asked if it was viewable, and was advised it was, so I reversed to a grassy area alongside the road, and parked.

I then assembled my gear and walked a very short distance to a suitable viewing position at the point which the grassy area sloped down to the saltmarsh proper. Here I opted to sit down on the bank as this was a better option for using my new Swarovski AT Balance 18-45 x 65 ‘scope, given my balance issue. With some helpful directions I was quickly able to locate it feeding distantly on the far side of the tributary channel (although not as distantly as I had thought once I zoomed up, having assumed I already had…… !!!!!). I then watched it on and off and chatted for an hour or so, during which time it moved up channel and then crossed the channel, so it was closer, before it firstly moved away again, and then flew further up the channel (and so out of sight behind the nearby buildings.

The setting was an impressive natural estuary at low- or mid-tide. As it was mid-summer, the supporting cast was limited to a few scruffy Mallards and Herring Gulls, and, helpfully, a Little Egret.

There was just a handful of people present at any one time, and, as the bird was showing well (and had been doing so for days) it was all very relaxed.

I particularly enjoyed chatting with the mother of a keen young birder, Aled. She, Iola Williams, was keen to chat to me as an approachable, knowledgeable male, and very clearly, she was an impeccable judge. I was very happy to help as best as I could, as I admired the dedication of both Aled and his mum. And the conversation helped make everything suitably Welsh.

When it moved out of sight, I was faced with the challenge of getting up. Driving for seven hours and then sitting on damp, sloping ground for another 45 minutes wasn’t a good combination, and I had become very immobile and inflexible, and so it was a real struggle, even aided by a convenient piece of driftwood and by Iola and her friend.

Anyway, eventually I managed to return to an upright state, and, having retrieved a walking pole from the car I too moved around the group of buildings to attempt to see the bird again.

However, I failed to do so, mainly as I wanted to make sure I remained upright, and / or, if I sat down again, I could more easily return to an upright position.

In the end, I decided I should cut my losses and go to find a filling station (the fuel warning light was already on) and then drive to Barrowford in time for the first game of the World Cup, Mexico v. South Africa.

As such, I bade my farewells to Iola and Aled and departed the scene, very happy.

It was a truly stunning bird, much, much more exciting and interesting looking than the scruffy individuals seen in Isreal decades beyond.

It was a small, almost all dark, heron, the same size and shape as a Little Egret, although possibly looking larger because of the dark plumage.

Its bill was mainly dark, and very long looking and its legs were dark olive-green, although the feet were bright yellow like Little or Snowy Egret.

Its plumage was all dark black(blue) apart from a white gular patch. There were two long wavy aigrettes emanating from rear of nape and on others on the back.

As ever, I may have agonised about going, but seeing the bird was well worth all the agonising. And driving. And I now knew that such twitches were still viable.

Western Reef Heron, Foryd Bay, Gwynedd, June 2026 (photograph credited to J. Martin Jones).