I've been pretty chilled about hitting 50 not out, certainly not as down about arriving at 30 and 40 for some reason; maybe every big birthday is now something to celebrate; a time to really appreciate family, friends and good health. And birding - lots of birding! Ever since I've worked, I've taken the day off work to go birding on my birthday, and this year, I'd planned a three day self-indulgent epic, involving the east coast, whale-watching and knee deep rarities. Well, hopefully!
York birder, Mark Fewster, gave me an early 50th birthday present when he told me that hitting 50 meant I was now in 'Snipers Alley' where I would be dodging death's bullets every day, until I scraped it to 60. There is some truth in the stats here, but it was something I wasn't too pleased to hear two days before my big day!
As the 3rd October approached, the birding gods (DIM Wallace et al) were clearly smiling down, and a fall of 'good' birds on the east coast during the preceding day set things up really nicely; this looked more promising than some birthdays I have had, which have been marred by light southwesterlies and sunny skies!
The day of the big 5-0 dawned and I enjoyed a quick hug with the family before heading off east to Holmes Gut, Flamborough. The weather was a bit nicer than I'd hoped - there wasn't going to be much of an arrival today - but whilst waiting for birding mate Andy Gibson, a Red-breasted Flycatcher flew on to a fence at the back of the pub garden - a great start!
Andy arrived and we enjoyed views of the flycatcher which had moved to the willows along the small stream. Other than this, the Gut was rather quiet, with only a few Goldcrests and a couple of overflying Redwings, Skylarks and Meadow Pipits on offer.
News of yesterday's Olive-backed Pipit at Thornwick Camp lightened our step and we made our way slowly round the clifftop, checking carefully for migrants. We hadn't added a lot to the list by the time we reached the plantation behind the activity barn where the OBP had been hanging out since yesterday afternoon. A small crowd had gathered along the footpath but they reported no sign, so we went round the side to try our luck. Within minutes, Andy saw the bird hop up briefly to the foot of a bush before creeping back into the grass. I missed it, but watched intently assuming it would reappear. We told a couple of nearby birders and they joined the vigil by the fence. Moments later a small bird dropped out of the sky and landed in a nearby Alder. We all looked over to the tree before Andy exclaimed 'It's a Rustic Bunting!' The two other birders stated the same, but I just couldn't see it. I couldn't understand how I couldn't. Arriving birders flushed the bird and I then realised that it had been behind the telegraph pole, and out of view! Flying close overhead, the rusty-red chest and flank markings stood out clearly in the morning sunshine; the bunting flew over to the back of the plantatioon and dropped into some small Hawthorns, unfortunately landing out of sight. After an anxious minute during which time most of the other birders who had been searching for the OBP arrived, the bunting was again accidentally flushed and it flew back over our heads, before briefly alighting atop a bush allowing all present a very brief perched view, before it flew again, off and over Thornwick top hide. Blooming heck! While I couldn't claim this as a find, it was an exhilarating moment to see this bird drop in right in front of us.
After this excitement, we gave the OBP a bit longer, but then decided to go and do a bit of birding elsewhere. This proved profitable, with Redstart, Blackcaps, Chiffchaff and Goldcrest. Arriving back at the plantation a little later, we were pleased to hear the OBP had reappeared and shortly, we got great views of this streaky skulker, creeping about in the grass and leaf litter, quietly pumping its tail as it went. It really was an immaculate bird, and having struggled to catch up with this species in Yorkshire, this was a real treat on my birthday.
Having filled our boots, we continued our quest, adding a Yellow-browed Warbler by the lake, but little else. Post-lunch, we opted for the Outer Head where we felt a late arrival could produce a few new birds. Within moments of heading down Old Fall hedge, the unexpected white form of a Great Grey Shrike came into focus perched nonchalantly and ghost-like atop the Hawthorn. It was distant, so we waited a while to see if the approaching birder might inadvertently flush the bird towards us. And then the second bizarre bunting incident happened. A small bird flew up out of the stubble between us and the shrike, landed briefly on the hedge and then flew straight towards us 'ticking'. The small bunting passed close overhead, revealing a small chestnut head and blackish streaks on a white belly - a Little Bunting! Andy and me could hardly believe it. The bird carried on up the hedge and appeared to go over the road and out of sight. I remembered there had been a Little Bunting here recently, but I couldn't remember it being reported for a while, so it was a fab surprise.
Getting ourselves together, we ambled down to the plantation. A couple of Yellow-browed Warblers and a brace of Pied Flycatchers mingled with Blackcaps and Chiffchaffs, giving us plenty to enjoy, though nothing rarer stirred - although we could hardly complain after the day we'd had! The farmer decided to harvest the beans in the field surrounding the plantation, shattering the afternoon's tranquility, so we quickened our pace round to the lighthouse. The rest of the loop was quiet, with the highlight being an ice cream, courtesy of Andy.
I still had a bit of birding time available before I was due back in York, so we went back to Holmes Gut. The Red-breasted Flycatcher had found a buddy, and the two birds were zipping in and out of the trees, and showing beautifully. After enjoying this energetic pair, we joined a small group of birders who had refound an Icterine Warbler that had been present for a few days. It took a while to get a good view of the Icky, but after taking a bath in the stream it then sat up in a willow, drying off in the warm afternoon sunshine and giving us all great views. I even managed some reasonabl pics.
Nearby, an Acrocephalus warbler was never anything but a Reed Warbler but I took a couple of pics just to be sure. It was time to call it a day, and we wandered back to our transport, the calls of the Red-breasted Flycatchers rattling in our ears. It had been an exceptional day, really incredible birds and non-stop laughs with Andy, at the east coast's best birding spot. Bring on tomorrow!
Me and Andy, North Landing, 3rd October 2024.
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