Heron Addict

Part One: Westerly Dipping

News that Britain's first Western Reef Heron had done a bunk, was a worrying development as Paz and me stopped for a coffee just east of Llandudno, last Saturday morning. I had finally caved-in and decided to head to North Wales to twitch this classy heron, from tropical West Africa, which had turned up the previous week. This would be a world tick for me, and Paz was keen to join forces, so we left York at a relatively relaxed 7am, to make our way over the Pennines, to Caernarfon, and the Foryd Estuary. 

 

Y Foryd

The bird had occasionally disappeared for a bit, so we weren't unduly worried, and pressed on regardless. On arrival, about 100 birders were lining the estuary path, mostly congregating at the spots where the heron had favoured during the past week. The tide was very high, so it wasn't really a surprise that the heron wasn't here; it was presumably roosting in a tree somewhere, waiting for the tide to go out. We enjoyed a potter round the saltmarsh on the fringes of the estuary, doing a spot of botanising to kill the time, while the tide turned and began to recede. Our excitement built a little, as first one and then several Little Egrets appeared out of nowhere, to feed along the newly-exposed creek edges. The dark one, however, failed to appear. We scanned, and scanned again, checking the creek edges, looking for the sinuous dark shape of our target, but to no avail.

As time wore on, it seemed we were going to dip. We headed round to the harbour in the shadow of the edifice that is Caernarfon Castle. A single Grey Heron haunted the shallows here, but nothing small and dark caught our attention. It was time for a sandwich and a little contemplation. We realised if it showed in its usual spot, birders would put the news out, so we decided to do the honourable thing and check out the wider area, including some spots where it had occasionally been seen. We drew a blank, but enjoyed some of the local birds, including some smart Sandwich Terns. I speculated that the bird may have decided to move on north, having been pushed off by the high spring tide. The next decent habitat would be the Conwy Estuary at Llandudno and I guessed it could turn up there perhaps. It was pure speculation of course...

With a sinking feeling developing, we were startled by the news that the bird had just been seen flying out of a marsh on the south side of estuary and back towards the mudflats! Maybe our luck was about to change! We shot back to the original location and were baffled that none of the gathered birders had seen it. After a bit of a conflab, we headed round the estuary to where it had been reported. A birder was standing on the floodbank and he told us that he had spoken to the guy who had claimed it, but the report sounded very dubious...We spent our last half an hour scouring this side of the estuary, but to no avail. There was no Reef Heron here. Disappointed, but having had a good laugh in lovely surroundings, we made our way back east.

 

Part Two: Have your cake and eat it

 

A couple of days after it's Friday night bunk, the Western Reef Heron turned up again...on the Conwy Estuary! Now, I don't get any points for guessing it might turn up there, but it had come a little closer to York and as the weekend approached, I began to feel a little twitchy again. Paz was free and keen, so we re-enacted our plan from last Saturday and left York at 7am. This time, negative news came through half an hour after we had left, so we turned off the M1 and headed to RSPB St Aidans. This was a bit gutting, but at least it had saved us a wasted journey and more frustrated dipping. 

Shortly, we were checking out the big digger thing by St Aidans car park, looking for the resident Little Owls. Before we'd had chance to find one of them, an update arrived: The Reef Heron was back at Conwy! Game on. 

Two hours later and we piled into the Conwy RSPB car park and almost got sucked into the Conwy Park Run. It was all a bit confusing being surrounded by sweaty runners, rather than happy birders and after what seemed like ages, we finally found somebody who knew what was going on. He gave us the devastating news that the heron had flown off north down the estuary and over the bridge about ten minutes ago. He'd been to the other side of the bridge and couldn't see it, so presumed it had gone round to Morfa Beach, where it had often been seen during the week when the tide was out. This bird was rapidly becoming our shared nemesis! 

The local birder patiently explained where we needed to go, to get to Morfa. Heading back to the car, another message arrived stating the bird was still in the estuary, but to the north, off the Marina. The local said we may as well walk down the estuary path, as that would be as quick as driving, so Paz and me u-turned and headed that way, with Notts birder, Phil Palmer. 

After a fairly short walk, we crossed under the A55 bridge and the seaward end of the estuary was revealed. No small dark herons were apparent, but checking Google maps showed that the Marina we sought, was just round a small headland. We pressed on and soon rounded the point and there was the Marina. Time to scan! If the bird wasn't here, we'd have had a long walk for nothing and who knows where it might have gone. My first scan with the bins drew a blank....stress levels began to rise as I set my scope up and started to scan. Out of the blue, Phil suddenly shouted, 'it's here, it's flying past!' We jumped round, lifted our bins, and there was the dark slate form of this mega rarity, casually winging upriver, bright yellow feet trailing behind. It looped round and dropped in with a pristine Little Egret and began feeding in a channel out in the middle of the estuary. Flippin' 'eck, we'd done it! Paz and me high-fived, beaming like buffoons, thanking Phil for his sharp eyes; we would have so easily missed it flying past as we squinted through our scopes. This was twitching at it's finest, a stunningly scenic setting for a British first, with an anxiety-inducing chase, almost ending in failure twice. 

 

 

We drank-in the elegant, svelte form of this small dark heron. It was perhaps slighter than the nearby Little Egret, but pretty similar in stature. The ground colour was dark slaty-grey, with a bluish hue. Two long dark plumes arose from the back of the bird's head waved about independently, like a couple of aerials, and further plumes were on the lower breast and on the uppertail, indicative of a touch of breeding plumage. The white throat gleamed in contrast; it really was a smart bird! The egret and heron fed in the shallow water for a few minutes, before suddenly taking flight and heading upriver again, back towards the reserve and where we had parked. Stoked with our good fortune, we retraced our steps and soon found the bird, showing well with a bunch of egrets and a Grey Heron, fishing in the river shallows.

 

We spent the next 40 minutes watching this bird, catching several small fish and interacting with the Little Egrets. It was time to celebrate with coffee and cake, courtesy of the RSPB Conwy Cafe, the second highlight of the day.

 Beaming Paz

Feeling refreshed, we had a potter round the reserve, in the rising heat of the late morning. The reserve is suffering from a major Crassula infestation, which was pretty sad to see, with the invasive plant carpeting all the lagoons in a thick green layer. There really isn't a lot that can be done about this and I am sure the RSPB staff are really dismayed by its presence. The Deep Lagoon was where the Reef Heron has been spending high tide, but that was not for four hours or so, but it was nice to see the spot, nevertheless. 

To our surprise, as we made our way back to the car park, four birders shot passed us, clearly in a hurry. Had the Heron dropped in early? Only one way to find out, so we turned round and followed them back to the hide. Sure enough, our little African friend was sitting on the bund, preening in the midday sunshine, just out from the hide. So much for only appearing at high tide! We enjoyed seconds of this wonderful bird in a different setting before deciding it was time to make way for arriving birders. 

 

In high spirits we made our way back to York listening to dub and enjoying the sunshine high over the Pennines. Soon back in York, we enjoyed tea and cake in the garden, courtesy of Conwy RSPB. Class! 

Pretty Fly...

I popped in to Ellerburn Bank, a little YWT reserve that my team look after. The Fly Orchids and Greater Butterfly Orchids are having a great season, and the first Common Spotted and Bee Orchids are just coming out. It was nice to see Dropwort and Wild Mignonette in the grassland too.

 

Tiger, Tiger

A potter round Wykeham Forest revealed Tree Pipits, Spotted Flycatchers a male Redstart, and a couple of Goshawks, one of which, a female, stooped from very high, like a missile down into the valley to attack a group of Woodpigeons passing through the valley. I didn't see if she was successful.

As the hot sun warmed the sandy path, several Green Tiger Beetles started to hunt. Lightning fast, they sped around the sandy terrain chasing down small insects. If I approached too close they would suddenly fly off a few metres before resuming business. Smart insects.

A few Giant Birch Sawflies were buzzing about and landing on the birch regen along the path. One posed long enough for a pic. 

 A Yellowhammer sang as I departed Broxa.

 

 

 

 

Coastal Wader Realignment

 With cold northwesterly winds and heavy, thundery downpours, it was no surprise that coastal waders passing overland on migration were getting dumped on wetlands around the county. With little wader habitat visible in the LDV, I have been visiting the flood at Church Ings and the flash on Acaster Airfield as regularly as possible in recent weeks, and besides the ever-present Little Ringed Plovers, and the Greenshank and Wood Sandpiper mentioned in a previous post, things have been pretty low key. Tonight, I went out hoping to find a Sanderling, that very coastal wader which seems tied to breaking waves on sandy beaches. There had been a couple elsewhere in the county, mainly at the well-watched big wetland sites, so it was with surprise and delight in equal measure to put my bins straight on one as I arrived at the airfield flash. It was hanging out with one of the local LRPs, and feeding happily along the water's edge. This is my 17th species of wader on this tiny flash, which is remarkable, but indicates what is moving up and down the River Ouse corridor near York. These birds would really benefit from a safe refuge along the valley here. I left the Sanderling busily feeding and wandered home.

 

My first rather obscured view of the Sanderling

 Slightly better!

 

Red-foot Dash

On the 8th May, Chris Gomersall found a first-summer male Red-footed Falcon at North Duffield Carrs. There had been several found in the country beforehand so it seemed on the cards, but so often we miss out on the action, so this was great news. Withour transport, I was resigned to not being able to get there, but James Byatt offered me a lift, and we were soon down at the platform looking expectantly north up the river. To our delight the Redfoot was immediately in view, perched on a roadside willow. A smart bird as always, with a surprising amount of ginger plumage on the nape and breast, with white on the face. 

Most of the first-summer males have been more advanced than this bird, looking very much like an adult male, save the chequered underwings, so this was interesting. The bird was associating with a Hobby, and the two were making repeated sorties along the river channel to catch emerging mayflies. These little falcons are always a joy to watch and it is only my second in the York area after the long-staying first-summer female back in 2020. 

 

 9th May - Saturday

Went back to Duff at lunchtime following 'no news' on the Red-foot. I felt the morning had been chilly so perhaps it would reappear when the weather warmed and insects began to emerge. My hunch was correct, and I picked up the bird not long after arriving at the hide. It was feeding actively over the river again, associating with two Hobbies. 

 

East Coast YOC

On Sunday, I led the York Birding trip to the East Coast. Eight of us had a lovely morning in brisk northeasterly winds at Spurn, followed by a gentle, sunny walk at North Cave Wetlands in the afternoon. 

The fresh winds had all but stopped migration, with very few passerines around, besides a handsome male Greenland Wheatear at Sammy's Point, and over ten Whimbrels scattered across the wider site. The large flock of Brent Geese that dropped in to Beacon Ponds as we arrived, held the wintering Black Brant which took a bit of picking out, as the flock bobbed in the rough water mostly facing away from us. Waders along the rising tide included a single Knot among large numbers of northbound Bar-tailed Godwits and Oystercatchers. Several Yellow Wagtails in the paddocks by Sammy's Point car park held a pale, grey-headed female, which looked good for a Blue-headed. 

 

 

 

Early afternoon, we began our journey west, calling in at the busy North Cave Wetlands for a change of scenery and birdlife. The skies were filled with hirundines, interspersed with scything Swifts. We soon picked out five pairs of Mediterranean Gulls among the throngs of Black-headeds, Common Terns and Avocets on the islands. Four noisy Whimbrels circled, whistling excitedly, before dropping on to a spit to rest and bathe and giving great views. 

 

A Tawny Owl was roosting in a barn, whilst a Cuckoo gave itself up on a distant tree. Little Ringed Plovers and a Common Sandpiper fed along the shingly shores of the islands and an unexpected Raven cronked overhead. Plenty of butterflies were seen in sunny, sheltered corners today, including Wall, Orange-tip, Painted Ladies and Red Admirals.

 

 

Wood Sand Wonder

The continued easterly wind has brought chilly weather but also an influx of Scandinavian migrants driftd into the UK on their way north. Heading the throng was a couple of days of impressive Black Tern passage, which managed to avoid me completely, in fact, the York area only had two records, one at Castle Howard (annoyingly a few hours after I'd checked the site for that species) and two at Allerthorpe GP. The lack of water in the valley perhaps was the issue, with long vegetation and weeks of no rain meaning there was little to attract passing birds. More evident, however, were Wood Sandpipers. Always a scarce bird in York, we have enjoyed a bumper crop, with at least five in the Wheldrake area at the start of the month, commuting between Bank Island and the Ings, plus a number of birds elsewhere. On 1st May, three graced Wheldrake Ings along with a sooty-black Spotted Redshank in the grass out from Tower Hide. Best of all, was my first at Acaster Airfield Flash on the 3rd, which has held water despite the drought. It is a decent walk to the flash and most times I get there and it holds a solitary Shelduck or Yellow Wagtail, so this was great, as was the Greenshank the same day. 

 Greenshank at Acaster Airfield

 Wood Sandpiper at Acaster Airfield

 

A late Wheatear at the airield.

A Ringed Plover on a random wet corner of an arable field north of York was my first of the year and added to my growing York yearlist. 

 

Brown Hare, Acaster Airfield. Good numbers of these lagomorphs are present at the Airfield.

Crane again

It has been a good spring for Cranes locally, with this individual hanging around in the LDV a little while and occasionally dropping in to feed and roost at Wheldrake Ings.

 

April Weeks

Three weeks have gone by, three tricky weeks for the Leadley gang, but the outlook is bright now, like the weather. In amongst family stuff, I've got some birding in, and the local action has been exciting, with new migrants appearing daily, along with a scattering of scarcities. It has been an early spring, migrant-wise, with some southerly airflows and plumes of warm air originating in North Africa, providing a northbound escalator for homeward-bound birds. My earliest ever Sedge Warbler chittered from a reedy Wheldrake ditch on 7th April, the same day as the Swallows returned to Tower Hide. My first Swallow was a few days earlier, on the 3rd, the same day as the silvery cascade of a Willow Warbler trickled forth from a riverside willow. 

Up in the Dales, a male Redstart singing at Park Gill on the 10th, was my second earliest ever, and I enjoyed my first Wheatears of the spring the same day. A Whitethroat at East Cottingwith on the 11th and a Reed and Garden Warblers on the 16th were all my earliest records. Spring is undoubtedly arriving earlier! Besides the regular migrants, a few scarce birds have added a bit of spice, with waders featuring: a Grey Plover at North Duffield Carrs on the 4th was intriguingly the same date as the one I saw on the refuge at Wheldrake Ings last year, with an individual there on 1st April in 2024. These birds are creatures of habit, so this could well be the same bird, passing through the valley in early April each year. Seven Greenshanks on the Refuge at Wheldrake was a cracking spring count on the 5th, preceding a pair of Avocets which appeared at Duff on the 7th; I watched them fly high south at 10.33am, presumably heading for the Humber.  

 

Dodgy, distant wader photos: Grey Plover (4th April), Greenshanks (5th April), Avocets (7th April), all LDV.

Big numbers of hirundines gathered at Wheldrake mid-month, as poor weather forced them to seek food low over the water. Up to 2000 Sand Martins, along with c40 Swallows and a dozen House Martins provided a fantastic spectacle, although my efforts to extract a Red-rumped Swallow or a Crag Martin failed.  

 Sand Martins, Wheldrake.

Today (19th), with a brisk northwesterly wind, I headed first to Castle Howard, where two Common Sandpipers were my first of the year. A Great Egret stalked the reedbed and 40 Tufted Ducks loafed on the water. Both Reed and Cetti's Warblers sang from the reedbed at the west end. 

 

I headed next to Thornton, where seven Wheatears were bouncing around in a ploughed field, whilst Corn Buntings jangled from the wires overhead. A sunbathing Tawny Owl caught my eye on an old broken Alder, whilst watching a Snipe singing from a fencepost.

Two Whimbrels were feeding in the usual grassy pastures near Storwood as I passed on the way to East Cottingwith. These guys are regular as clockwork, pausing on their way to Iceland, to fatten up on local worms, before the last leg of their migration. With the breeze picking up, I thought it would be worth a while at the Refuge in case a Kittiwake or Arctic Tern dropped in to rest on the floodwater. Neither did, but two Cuckoos showed brilliantly in the trees next to the canal, and best of all, a female Osprey appeared out of nowhere, hovering right overhead as she scanned the water for food. She drifted off south, mobbed by a Red Kite. Amazing! Thirty Black-tailed Godwits, four Pintails and a pair of Grey Partridges were also present. Down at Duff, thirty more Blackwits were present along with five tardy Whooper Swans.  

 

 

 

Cuckoos, and Osprey, 19th April. 

Wintry Feel

Been some difficult stuff going on at home, so it was therapeutic to get out for a few hours on Saturday morning and then for an hour yesterday, just to clear my head. With westerlies, there have been a lot of Common Scoters heading overland, cutting across to the North Sea on their way back north for the summer. As is often the case, there have been a sprinkling of birds on local waterbodies, pausing for a rest. On Saturday, I hoped I might find one at Castle Howard Lake. I thought I'd drawn a blank until I noticed the pale cheek and spiky tail of a female snoozing among the frisky Tufted Ducks. The wind was strong and so the choppy water made the lake look like the sea, so I suspect she felt quite at home. 

 

Not much else going on here though a brave Sand Martin battled into the wind, and a Crossbill flew over 'chipping' emphatically. I spent the next little while at Wheldrake Ings, which yielded little in the way of summer migrants, with a female Scaup on the Pool pleasant but decidely wintry! 

 Yesterday, I didn't have much time so headed down to North Duffield. The two female Common Scoters found yesterday were still present, and I was pleased to see the wintering Spotted Redshank feeding along the bank. It is developing some sooty breast feathers now; I wonder how long it will linger before heading back to Scandinavia? 31 Whooper Swans were grazing the winter wheat, having presumably dropped in for a break on their way north. An immature female Peregrine was harrassing the ducks and at one point landed on the bank pretty close to the hide. Still no Garganey for me, but they are beginning to turn up now, so hopefully soon.

 

 

 

Peregrine, Whooper Swans, Spotted Redshank and Common Scoters, North Duffield Carrs

Craning

Friday (20th March) was my last Yorkshire Coast Nature Goshawk tour of the season. The day had started with thick fog, which really hampered proceedings, but we had a good morning, with Willow Tit, Crossbills and best of all, a showy Hawfinch, which alighted on the top of a tall tree right in front of the group. The fog lifted at lunchtime and three Goshawks suddenly appeared. An adult pair quickly saw off a young female, and once gone, they circled round and dropped back into cover. The afternoon was cold and overcast and we failed to find any more Goshawks. 

...

Sunday 22nd March 

 Despite the forecast, there was no fog to hamper my morning's birding, a change from the last couple of days. I headed down to North Duffield under bright skies, with a hope to see some early spring migrants, a Garganey or Crane perhaps. Duff was packed with birds; 150+ Black-tailed Godwits lined the bund in front of Garganey Hide, and nearby, the wintering Spotted Redshank was preening on the edge of the flood. It is a while since I have seen this bird, so it was nice to catch up with it again. Seven lingering White-fronted Geese were grazing the field behind the hide, but shortly flew onto the flood and mooched about in with the godwits. Three Ruff and a Dunlin were noted, and a couple of Marsh Harriers came along the river. Amongst the hordes of ducks, I failed to pick out a Garganey, or yesterday's Scaup.

 

Shortly, Ollie called to give me the head's up that seven Cranes were circling the Aughton poplars. Thanking him, I started to scan north and picked up the giant shapes high in the sky and heading towards Duff. Class! They started to descend, dropping dangly legs, and then circling round in front of the trees and down onto Aughton Ings. I decided to head round there to see if I could see them on the deck. A few minutes later, as I was driving down the lane to Aughton, the Cranes suddenly appeared overhead. I threw the car onto the verge and grabbed my scope. The birds were only 100m above me, looking like they might land again, but they began to gain height, heading first south and then high to the northeast, before turning back into the valley and following the river north. The calls of migrating Cranes rang out as they went. Simply majestic and exactly what I was hoping for! 

 

I followed them up the valley to East Cottingwith, but they had gone. 305 Black-tailed Godwits were roosting on the Wheldrake Ings refuge and as I left, the North Duff godwit flock powered in, with a whoosh of wings as they dropped as one, on to the refuge. A quick look at East Cottingwith Pond yielded six White-fronts happily grazing, with 50 Wigeon and a few Tufted Ducks on the water. Down at Ellerton, a real commotion in the pine copse to the south attracted my attention. 20 Carrion Crows were screaming from the tops of the deciduous trees; they were seriously unhappy about something. Suddenly, 20 or so Woodpigeons exploded from the copse in a panic and the nearby Wigeon erupted off the ings. A brown shape circled round and before I had chance to focus had dived back into the pine copse. More pigeons shot out and the crows went bananas. I couldn't be certain with the briefest of looks, but this felt like a Gos. I waited for half an hour but nothing appeared. The crows lost interest after a while and moved on, and I did likewise, and headed home. 

Hawking

It is Goshawk season, and when the sun shines, the birds are very active, re-establishing territories and booting out last year's young. As well as the aerial displays, the females have a tendency to sit conspicuously at this time of year, scanning the skies for intruding birds and can be located from a distance, like a vertical white streak in the trees. Last week, a real unit of a second calendar-year female was causing chaos in one of the regular territories I check, with the territory-holding adult sparring with her and chasing her rapidly across the valley. There was much stiff-winged display sometimes at impressive altitude. Yesterday, the young bird was flying about unchallenged and sitting prominently in the conifers. This was interesting; had she displaced the territory-holding female? Females compete for prime breeding territories and skilled males, so this is possible; they sometimes even kill each other. A young male, potentially this bird's sibling, was cruising around too, giving great views, even eyeing us as he circled overhead in an azure sky. Soon, the breeding females will go down on their nests and activity will reduce, with birds being more difficult to see until the young fledge later in the summer. For now, the activity is intense and exciting and great to watch. 

 

 

Top: Second calendar-year female Goshawk. Below, three shots of the same second calendar-year male who circled overhead looking down at us with suspicion. The streaked breast, mottled upperparts, indistinct head patterns and heavily barred and uniform secondaries help age these birds.

 

 

 

Egrets, I've had a few...

Finding scarce or rare birds relies on many things, but one of the key things is not to assume anything, keep an open mind and check things out. Yesterday, I made a mistake, and missed a good local 'find'. With the day off after a fabulous weekend leading Goshawk Tours for Yorkshire Coast Nature, I headed out locally, to the Lower Derwent Valley. I was met with misty, low cloud; not ideal, but it felt like there could be a few birds grounded along the ings. I decided to do a clockwise loop, as is my tradition if I have the time available, and travelled over to Elvington, where I crossed the falling river, through Sutton-on-Derwent to Hagg Bridge. I planned to stop here for a scan, but as the traffic lights changed to green I made a snap decision to continue without stopping. Looking momentarily to my right, I noticed a small, bright white blob in the flooded grassland. A gull perhaps, or possibly a Little Egret, although it looked small, so probably 'just' a gull. A few minutes later, I pulled up at East Cottingwith and walked round the footpath, checking through the finch flocks carefully for an errant Twite or Little Bunting. I switched my attention to the refuge across the Canal, where a few Goldeneyes dived amid a gathering of Tufted Ducks. About 50 Black-tailed Godwits flew in and landed out of sight on the near bank. Then, a message from Adam Firth: a Cattle Egret on the ings at Hagg Bridge. Drat! That was the white blob! Why hadn't I stopped to check? Cursing at my poor form, I stomped back to the car and drove the mile or so back to the bridge. Adam had gone, but sure enough, the Cattle Egret was stalking around catching frogs in the flood. Great to see, but very frustrating that I'd messed up. 

 

Back to the route and kicking myself repeatedly, I dropped in to Ellerton Church. It was still misty making viewing difficult. The floodwater had dropped markedly since I was last here, exposing tongues of muddy grassland attracting throngs of Teal, Wigeon and Pintail. Some waders caught my eye moving among the ducks; first one, then three Ruff. A slightly larger wader surprised me when it lifted its head to reveal a long upturned bill. A Bar-tailed Godwit? Surely not. This rare coastal wader usually passes through in April, so an early March record would be unusual. 

 

The murky visibility was not helping, but the hunched, short-legged stature looked good as did the hint of streaking on the upperparts and long primary projection. I needed the bird to fly to confirm my suspicion, and thankfully, it soon flushed, revealing the plain, unmarked wings, white back and rump and classic barred tail, completely different from the more regular Black-tailed Godwits that frequent the ings. I put the news out and grinned, having restored a little self-respect. A Great Egret flew past, which reminded me of my earlier cock-up. 

 On to Aughton and a big flock of Pochards were cavorting out on the ings. A quick count yielded 240 birds, although I am sure there were more hidden behind the coppice and willows. Two first-winter drake Scaup were present too, one of which was advanced, almost adult-like, with the other still in drab brown plumage, with only some grey mantle feathers coming through.  

 Next up, North Duffield Ings which was thwarted by a large wagon parked right across the pull-in, so I headed down to the Carrs instead. Here I bumped into Alan Whitehead and we chatted for a bit and enjoyed the birding. The two Scaup flew in with a bunch of Pochards from Aughton and a large flock of geese got up from behind the trees. The majority were Pink-feet and they headed off north, whereas at least 80 White-fronted Geese circled round and dropped back in to the fields. 

It was time to head back, walk the hound and do a few jobs. There is nothing like the draw of birding to get things done quickly, so with jobs ticked off, I shot down to Thorganby (quiet except for a Peregrine) and then to Wheldrake Ings, which was absolutely heaving with birds! Thousands of Wigeon and Teal packed the shallow floods, interspersed with elegant Pintail and shovelling Shovelers. Marsh Harriers caused mayhem as usual. I bumped into Andy Massey who told me the Cattle Egret was now next to Swantail Hide and sure enough, when I arrived there a little later, I found it resting next to a Little Egret and adjacent to four Great Egrets! This was nuts; any of these birds would have been almost fanciful when I birded here as a kid, so to see all three together was a clear sign of how things are changing. Cool to see, but worrying at the same time, as climate change is driving these birds north and making our climate more habitable for them. 

A huge flock of Black-tailed Godwits flew in and swirled about wickering loudly, and looking incredible in the late afternoon sun. A careful count revealed at least 860 birds, an impressive number. Three Dunlin and forty Golden Plovers were mixed in with the godwits. I found out later that there were 400 Blackwits to the north of the valley, so there is 1260 in the LDV currently - wow! What a place this is. 

 

Still no Sand Martins for me, but several Chiffchaffs singing today, my first 'chipping' Snipe, lots of singing Curlews and excited Oystercatchers. Spring is coming! I drove back stoked with the day I'd had on my doorstep, filled with quality birds in a wonderful landscape. I learnt a lesson today too, one that I won't forget in a hurry. Good birding, folks!