What a Surprise! 8th December 2024

Yesterday, Saturday, the weather was apochryphal as Storm Darragh brought 80mph winds and lashing rain to Britain. I was tempted to go to my local Farmoor Reservoir in the hope the extreme weather might bring a storm blown seabird such as a Gannet or an 'in your dreams' Leach's Petrel to this most inland of reservoirs.

However Thames Water sensibly closed the reservoir to visitors so the matter was taken out of my hands.All day the wind and rain hammered at the house, the gusts getting ever stronger in the late afternoon and early evening.

General opinion on local social media suggested the reservoir would again be closed the following day, Sunday, as the wind was predicted to be still very strong although the rain might have ceased.

Nevertheless I resolved to try Farmoor first thing in the morning, reasoning that if it remained closed I could view the reservoir with a telescope from the Countryside Walk which encircles the reservoir outside the boundary fence.I still harboured hopes of a Gannet or Leach's Petrel and now, ever the optimist I added Grey Phalarope to my fanciful wishlist 

Well why not?

Deciding to set off early, well at 8am, I was pleased to find any floods in our part of Oxfordshire had not materialised and the fallen branches from yesterday had been cleared from the rural roads around our village. Being an early Sunday morning there was little traffic so I soon arrived at the reservoir to find the gates were open. So far so good. I drove through, parked the car and headed for the central causeway.The wind remained extremely strong and being from the northeast, cold as well and every so often an extra strong gust of wind threatened to bowl me over.Needless to say no one else was on the causeway..I had it all to myself.

And no wonder as the  wind continuously and relentlessly  battered me sideways as it swept unhindered across the open waters of the reservoir.

Sadly there was nothing to see from the causeway apart from a pair of Greater Black backed Gulls that treated the wind as if it was nothing, making great sweeps across the churning waters without once flapping their wings. At the far end of the causeway, in the lee of the wave wall where it was sheltered, Tufted Ducks and Coots had gathered to feed and get some respite from the wind. I also found the wintering Common Sandpiper here, wandering by the water's edge in the comparative calm, reluctant to fly, knowing it would be swept away on the wind. Common Sandpipers usually do not allow you anywhere near them but possibly due to the wind it allowed me to walk past without fleeing from my presence. This is the fourth year that a Common Sandpiper has wintered on the reservoir and although unlikely it could possibly be the same individual that has been present for all four years.

I decided to carry on walking around the smaller basin F1, to see if a phalarope might be feeding by the concrete shore, currently being lashed by white surf, but predictably there was nothing.

I completed the mile  circuit and on getting back to the cafe decided a coffee might be nice but was informed the cafe was closed due to a power cut.

What to do? 

Let's give the larger basin, F2 a go. 

You never know. That elusive phalarope might just be lurking out there.

Nothing ventured nothing gained or something like that. 

Birders are forever optmistic and having Farmoor Reservoir as your local patch elevates that requirement to a whole other level, believe me.

I immediately regretted my decision as the full force of a very strong wind hit me. Blind obstinacy made me carry on as the breaking waters hit the wall in a surge of white froth and spray. Of birds there was predictably no sign apart from two Pied Wagtails which were foolish enough to fly up from under the wave wall only to be instantly caught by the wind and, barely in control hurled downwind far behind me. It was like this until I got to the southwestern corner which provided partial shelter from the full force of the wind. 

Flotillas of Coots and Tufted Ducks had congregated on the calmer water here but on checking them there was no sign of a hoped for Scaup. See what I mean about being optimistic? The garrulous Greylag Geese were for once silenced, squatting asleep on the grass by the perimeter track with heads firmly reversed into their feathers as the wind whipped over the grass, their bodies grey mounds facing into the unforgiving wind. They did not even bother to remove their heads from their feathers as I walked by a few feet from them.

Further along, by the western wall of the basin I came to a small gathering of Mallards resting on the concrete that shelves down to the water. They too were asleep. Through watering eyes I nearly overlooked a small wader near to them,.right at the water's edge  My initial reaction was  it must be the Common Sandpiper that had moved from the end of the causeway.

But the rotund, crouching profile of the bird gave me pause for thought and checking in my bins I  could see an overall plump, greyish body but it was the bill that told me what it was. Medium long, with an orange base and slight kink at its tip. It could only be one thing - a Purple Sandpiper.

I could hardly believe it. 

At last a reward for the countless times I have circuited the reservoir only to find nothing exceptional. But this is  why I do it, an eternal optimism that every day may be the one when I find something out of the ordinary here.

Purple Sandpipers are usually confiding and this individual was no exception.Slowly, I walked towards it, the bird paused briefly to regard me and then, unconcerned, carried on feeding, picking at the concrete, probing holes and cracks for food.

I ventured closer until I was almost opposite and no more than ten feet away. There was no reaction.

Now came the realisation that I had left my camera in the car.So used to not having it for the last month it had slipped my mind to take it with me and it was a long walk/jog to get back to the car and retrieve it. Torn between remaining and admiring the sandpiper or going to get the camera to record this momentous event, I opted for the latter. There was no one else on the reservoir to disturb it and the bird itself seemed content and settled.. I would have to take a chance. It would be a good twenty minutes running and fast walking but it had to be done or there would be no photos, which would be unbearable.

I called Andy who I had met earlier near the cafe and now was somewhere else on the reservoir and relayed my find to him. I also put out the news on my local Oxon Bird Forum Whats App group for anyone local who might be interested.

I raced off to return to the car as fast as possible, cursing my foolishness in leaving the camera behind.It seemed to take an age but finally I was there. Jumping in the car I drove up and onto the perimeter track  to get back to where the sandpiper was. Anxiety that it might have flown off was foremost in my mind as I drove but I need not have worried. The Mallard had departed but the sandpiper remained in splendid isolation, feeding in that distinctive crouching style of their's,  still probing the holes and gaps in the concrete shelving and even wading into the shallow water at its edge. 

Purple Sandpipers spend the winter in Britain on piers and rocks by the sea so the churning waters and breaking waves on the concrete of the reservoir were undoubtedly familiar and of no real concern to it and probably made it feel at home. 

The prominently pale edges to the wing coverts indicated it to be a first winter bird.Where it had come from was anybody's guess and where it was bound for was again open to conjecture.Maybe it had been storm blown from the coast or more likely was making its way overland to a southern coastline when the storm arrived and forced it to put down onto the reservoir and wait for better weather 

So many maybe's and no real answers!

Farmoor's concrete certainly suited it as I have seen them spending the winter on concrete piers at the coast such as those at Newhaven in Sussex and Brixham in Devon.

This bird was the twenty second to be recorded at Farmoor Reservoir and the first to be seen here in the month of December. I also found the last to be recorded here before today when I discovered a juvenile on the causeway three years ago on 31st August 2021.My encounter with that one was equally unexpected and again came after a fruitless walk around the reservoir.

The first Purple Sandpiper recorded at Farmoor was as long ago as September 1976 and all, apart from one in May 2011, have been found during the months of August-November, the latter month being the most popular with seven records.

The Purple Sandpiper had gone by the following morning

An Interesting Two Days 5-6th December 2024

BBC's Countryfile decided to film a piece about Farmoor Reservoir for a future programme and set Thursday the 5th of December as the day when they would film, planning to  spend all day at the reservoir. I was flattered to be volunteered by Thames Water to talk about the birds, having written a booklet listing the birds that have, over the years, been recorded there -250 species at the last count including 12 national rarities

I was delighted to discover that the person interviewing me would be John Craven, he of John Craven's Newsround that I grew up with in the 1970's. I always imagined him to be a really nice man and was delighted to find out that he was.

Originally it was planned to do the first bit of filming in the Pinkhill Reserve Hide then transfer to the reservoir's causeway but there has been so much rainfall lately that the reserve and surrounding fields, which lie adjacent  to the River Thames, are inundated with water and the waterfowl have dispersed, resulting in nothing to be seen on the reserve, so it was decided to go directly to the causeway

Walking the causeway with John  we talked to camera about the birds on the reservoir. Unfortunately due to the time of year there was not a lot to see but the Countryfile crew seemed  to be reasonably happy to hear about the winter residents, such as Tufted Ducks, Great crested Grebes and Cormorants with a diversion into my birding exploits with regard to twitching. 

Of much interest to me was how the programme was put together with conversation pieces being filmed and then John providing a spoken link.The one great advantage of it not being live was if you messed up a take it could be done all over again.

At first a little nervous, once we got going everything was fine and I forgot about the cameras and sound man and just chatted with John as if nothing was more natural.

After lunch we concentrated on the gull roost and then with the weather, as predicted closing in and dusk imminent, my day of minor celebrity came to a conclusion.

The programme I have been told will be broadcast on the 5th of January 2025

The next day, Friday the weather had improved sufficiently for me to contemplate doing some proper birding. After what seemed an interminable time my camera has finally returned from being repaired so I was keen to try it out to re-assure myself that all was now well with it. 

My home in northwest Oxfordshire does not lie that far from the western edge of The Cotswolds which is in Gloucestershire.  Unlike my part of the Cotswolds it is wilder with less habitation and consists of open rolling countryside,all at some elevation. Nearby and lower lies the town of Cheltenham. In this area is a well known location consisting of large uncultivated fields of rough grass, not that far from a busy road and where Short eared Owls come every year in varying numbers. This year by all reports is a good one for the owls with up to ten being present.

Turning off the main road I took to a narrow lane for half a mile, thence to turn onto an even narrower lane that brought me to the fields in question. I should at this point mention that so popular has this place become with photographers it can sometimes get very busy, especially on weekends with people travelling considerable distances for the opportunity to photograph the owls. Birders and photographers cars parked on the narrow verge have caused some friction and not everyone locally is happy about the disturbance to this isolated part of the Gloucester countryside.

From my point of view the lanes are public roads with anyone having the right to use them and the owls are not troubled by the presence of cars and people. So long as everyone observes the rules which are not to encroach into the fields and not to block the lanes I cannot see why there should be any objections.

Today there were hardly any people present when I got there at 11.30am, maybe a dozen at most and I chose to forgo the most popular spots to observe the owls and consequently, for the most part I was on my own, standing by a crumbling drystone wall that marked the boundary between lane and field. 

A passing birder told me that he had seen numerous owls flying around since 9am which is unusual as they normally do not hunt so early. I could only speculate that yesterday's mainly inclement weather had prevented them from hunting successfully and hunger had persuaded them to rise early to hunt for their vole prey

Today marked a hiatus in weather systems, a period that was almost windless before the forecast Storm Darragh  arrived, bringing rain and wind of considerable violence, theatening gusts of 80mph, to batter Britain in the early hours of tomorrow,.There would be no hunting in such wind for the owls so they had better get on with it today in this brief but welcome window of weather respite and opportunity.

The days are short now as we approach the winter solstice, the longest night but three weeks hence and already at noon the light was dull and the air cold. The earlier sunshine had long since retreated behind a covering of cloud, the trees and hawthorn bushes, now in thrall to winter, are reduced to stark bones of bare branch and twig, long ago stripped of berries by the migrant thrushes of autumn. There was no bird song at this time of day apart from a thin trickle of notes conjoured up by a Robin but it soon fell silent. Anxiety has been an unwelcome companion all my life but despite the stillness and silence of this typical winter's day which can be unsettling I felt no such care today, in fact quite the reverse. 

I contemplated the tussocky field before me that rose by means of a gentle slope to a ridge with a freize of dark trees  behind.Looking to my right, in the distance a drystone wall ran at right angles from the wall I stood by, to partition the field I faced from another equally large field beyond.

Occasionally I caught a glimpse of an owl flying, alternating from side to side, above the dividing wall, first visible and then not so. Even at a distance their hunting  flight renders them utterly distinctive,  hesitant with slow beats of long, rounded wings that are marbled brown and buff, they fly like a giant, heavy headed, unstable moth, dipping and swerving, tilting from side to side as they pass low over the ground with the occasional dive into the rank grass after a vole, which nine times out of ten appears to be unsuccssful.

It was not long before an owl came reasonably close, passing halfway up the field in front of me.Here was my chance to check my camera and make any necessary adjustments.The lack of sunlight and consequent gloominess was not conducive to photography but this was alright as it tested my ability to practice the correct settings on my camera.

The owl disappeared but in the distance I could see another four owls, circling high in the grey sky having a dispute and calling with discordant, sharp, barking cries before separating and dropping back to earth.

A car came down the lane and the driver, presumably a birder asked me if any owls were here, informing me that the owls had been showing well half a mile up the lane but I was content by my wall, happy in my own company. In situations such as this and where to be left alone is a rare event it is only when I can endeavour to be free of company that I feel in harmony with the land and the overall experience becomes its most  enjoyable..

For the next hour and a half no more owls patrolled the field but it was no hardship, as alone I contemplated a landscape declining towards daylight's end, the air still as if holding its breath in anticipation of the approaching elemental turbulence. Pheasants became increasingly noisy, the cocks croaking challenges to one another from the long grass, a Raven 'cronked' from a tall tree in the distance as small flocks of twittering Goldfinches passed overhead. A pair of wintering stonechats followed each other across the field, perching on prominent dead stems, tiny dark images, that dived to earth in a sea of withered grass chasing after ants and spiders, then to re-emerge and once more achieve prominence on an elevated perch.The melancholy contact calls of a pair of Bullfinches, unseen in a nearby isolated hawthorn served to enhance the sense of abandonment here and winter's dormant emptiness. 

After a long wait another owl flew over the field, this time  to cross the lane and disappear into the distance behind me. I felt a chill wind commencing so at shortly after three pm I left. It would be dark in another hour. 

I had been fortunate to see this final Short eared Owl so close, if only for a minute.

There will be other days to see them this winter of that I am certain.

A Snowflake descends on Farmoor Reservoir 27th November 2024

c Thomas Miller

A dull mid morning at the fag end of November with nothing much to enthuse about had me heading for Farmoor Reservoir, my local go to birding destination.

But what's this?  Having just set off from home a light on my car's instrument display informed me that the pressure of one of my tyres was low which abruptly and unwelcomely changed my plan  

The rest of the morning was spent in Chipping Norton arranging to have a nail removed from the tyre. By the time the car was roadworthy it was approaching noon as I once more set a course for Farmoor.

Approaching the Toll Bridge at Eynsham, which crosses the Thames and is near to Farmoor I had a change of heart and eschewing the reservoir made for nearby Dix Pit which lies to the south of the reservoir and, as the Cormorant flies, is very close. I reasoned that I had spent most of yesterday at Farmoor and a bit of variety would be in order. The reservoir had been almost devoid of birds of interest yesterday, with the over wintering Common Sandpiper plus a flyover Raven the only things of any note and I could see no reason why it would be any different today. It would be the usual Coots, Tufted Ducks, Mallards, Great crested and Little Grebes with,the odd gull thrown into the mix. Hardly inspiring.

Dix Pit is a former gravel pit that is now a lake. It lies adjacent to a former landfill which was famed for its gulls but the landfill has long since been closed and landscaped although the lake still attracts good numbers of ducks, due no doubt to the fact that unlike Farmoor Reservoir its waters remain undisturbed by yachts or windsurfers.

Parking the car in a decidedly wet and muddy layby I made my way to the footpath that winds uncertainly around the circumference of the lake.The recent heavy rain has resulted in the path either being partially underwater or reduced to liquid mud and consequently treacherous to walk on. Definitely requiring wellington boots.

Dix is depressing at the best of times in winter and a late November afternoon under grey skies threatening rain and with a chill wind blowing was hardly going to persuade me otherwise, in fact precisely the opposite but at least I was birding and you never know I might find something of interest 

And I did!

Scanning the far shore I could see a line of egrets sheltering in a corner of the lake.Stood on a muddy spit against the dark bare willows that surround the lake their white plumage rendered them unmissable. Using the trees and bushes as cover I moved closer to check them in my bins and counted a total of nineteen of which six were Great White Egrets, a very good count, the remaining thirteen being Little Egrets.

Gingerly I continued my progress around the lake, one slip in the mud would be disaster. Some Redwings flew in alarm from a line of hawthorns as I splashed my way onwards. I was half way round when my Oxon Birds WhatsApp pinged an alert and consulting it I discovered that a Snow Bunting had been found by Dai at around 2pm on the reservoir causeway 

If only I had stuck to my original plan of going to the reservoir I would not now be reduced to a state of anxiety and frustration in equal measure. My main worries were: could I get there before the light went or the bird flew off. I rang Dai who told me the bunting was very confiding and in his opinion was going nowhere.My car was about as far away as possible from where I was currently standing by the lake. There was no choice but to carry on around the lake and get back to the car as fast as possible.I comforted myself with the fact that I was already in close proximity to the reservoir and not having to make a forty minute journey from home.Nevertheless my anxiety levels began to arise.

Power walking in wellington boots on very wet waterlogged ground and through flooded areas is not easy and I had to be careful not to slip on the slick grass as sheep in the wet field I was traversing scattered in alarm.It seemed to take forever but eventually I was back at the car, divesting myself of the cumbersome wellingtons to put on walking boots and then drove the few miles to the reservoir. A matter of minutes away but the journey seemed to take a lifetime

Frustration grew as I trailed behind two huge trucks  which eventually turned off towards the A40. Fortunately the Toll Bridge was by now unmanned but the light was beginning to dull as a watery sun commenced sinking below the trees.Temporary traffic lights at some roadworks then put in a bid to further delay me but finally I was free to drive the quarter mile to the reservoir gates and turning into the car park got myself together and set forth for the reservoir causeway.

I was for once travelling light as my camera is away being repaired so it was bins only for this trip.

There is an unwritten law that any 'good bird' arriving at Farmoor will invariably choose to be at the far end of the causeway and so it proved with this  latest  star bird to grace the reservoir's concrete bowl.Thomas passed me at a run, commenting in passing that the bunting was at the far end of the causeway. They always are I replied as he disappeared into the gloom.

I followed at a fast walk praying that the bunting would remain where it was. I met Ben coming the other way who reassured me it was still present, feeding at the side of the causeway. Ten minutes later I joined half a dozen of Oxonbirding's finest who had managed to make it in time and were now standing on the concrete shelving of F2 below the retaining wall, looking over the wall across to the bunting which was picking seeds from plants contriving to eke out an existence in the cracks between the tarmac and the retaining wall of F1.

From l -r Adam,Roger,Thomas,Paul and a n other

I sat on the wall by Jason as he video'd the bunting which was. as they so often are, remarkably tame and showed little alarm at our presence.Viewed from a few metres it was a real beauty as.its plumage was fairly bright, a pleasing mixture of buff, brown, grey, black and white as it shuffled on short black legs and feet, close to the wall, its corn yellow bill constantly nibbling seeds.

c Thomas Miller

Snow Buntings can present infinite variations in plumage and consequently can be difficult to age and sex and it has so far been suggested that this bird is a first year female or possibly a male. whilst others have seen adult characteristics in its plumage. 

c Thomas Miller

Snow Buntings are long distance migrants from the Arctic that come to us for the winter, and  comprise two races:  nivalis which originate from FennoScandia, northwest Russia, northern Scotland and Greenland or insulae which originate from Iceland. Migrants of both races visit Britain, with  nivalis predominant and a few still breed in The Cairngorms in Scotland. Snow Buntings are usually found wintering on the east coast of Britain rather than inland so probably this bird was crossing the country on its way to the coast and decided to make a brief stop at the reservoir to rest and refuel.

There is little more to be said other than I watched it in the company of my fellow Oxonbirders for thirty or so minutes and as the light slowly faded. its unexpected presence certainly brightened my day. 

By common consent as dusk arrived we left the bunting still actively feeding and made a leisurely walk back along the causeway to the cafe for a cup of tea and chat before heading for our respective homes.

There was no sign of the Snow Bunting the following morning

Snowflake is a colloquial name for the Snow Bunting

My grateful thanks to Thomas Miller for allowing me to illustrate this blog with his fine images and likewise to Jason Coppock for the use of his excellent video of the Snow Bunting

   

Rebooted Eagle 2nd November 2014

c Rich Bonsor

On Thursday the 31st of October a dark morph Booted Eagle was reported as having been seen over the village of Nettlebed in Oxfordshire and the next day it was seen over Remenham Hill some four miles south and just over the county border in neighbouring Berkshire.

The very few sightings of Booted Eagles in Britain have an unhappy history with the BOURC (British Ornithologists Union Records Committee) which decides which species are included on the British List and BBRC (British Birds Rarities Committee) which verifies the identification.To date none have been accepted as involving genuine vagrants.

The most contentious of these rejected records concerns an individual that was present in Ireland from March to August 1999 then moved across Britain to Orkney where it remained from October 1999 to February 2000. 

The reasons given by the BBRC for its rejection were as follows

Its abraded plumage suggested previous captivity

Its arrival in Ireland  was considered too early for a migrant from Africa

Its extended stay - the species winters in Africa and breeds in southern Europe

The long sea crossings involved in its moving from Ireland to Orkney

All these points are arguable, the last being nonsensical and many birders to this day feel it should have been accepted as a genuine vagrant to Britain and disagree with the joint verdict of the BOURC and BBRC.

Another record  of a dark morph bird that was seen and photographed at Cape Cornwall, St Just, on the 20th May this year (2024), on a day when over 500 Red Kites were seen migrating through Cornwall, might be a potential first for Britain. We will have to await the verdict from the BOURC and BBRC.

Booted Eagles are the smallest eagle to be found in Europe and northern populations are migratory spending the winter in sub Saharan Africa and migrating north to breed in Europe where it is widespread in Iberia and the European part of Russia with more scattered, smaller populations in France, eastern Europe and the Balkans. The European population is estimated by Birdlife International to be between 4000-9000 pairs with an estimated 2000-4000 of those in Spain. Their main prey is small and medium sized birds such as Starlings, Woodpigeons and Magpies although they will also prey on small mammals and lizards.

Anyway let us return to Friday when Mark (P) sent me a text

You not going searching for this eagle?

No. Going to wait and see how it goes. I replied

The Chilterns with its deep valleys and high escarpments is difficult terrain to adequately search and I held the view that  the eagle was obviously moving about so would be incredibly hard to pin down.It would owe more to luck than judgement on my part if I were to encounter it. 

Due to the interest in this latest sighting Sam Viles of Birdguides helpfully instigated a special Booted Eagle WhatsApp Group for anyone to join and liase with possible sightings, directions and questions.

I went to bed that night tired and aching from helping clear willow scrub from Shrike Meadow, one of my local Farmoor Reservoir's small reserves, and forgot all about the Booted Eagle

However my subconscious didn't

Next morning I awoke early and sent a post to my pals on our twitching WhatsApp Group

So do I spend the day sat on a hillside in The Chilterns not seeing a Booted Eagle? I enquired

Andy responded that he and Rich were going for it. Graham said he might depending on further news

I knew I was just postponing the inevitable

I looked out of the bedroom window at a grey and gloomy November morning. A lie in would be so nice but I knew the twitching genie was out of the proverbial bottle once more.Remenham was only an hour's drive from my home and the familiar amalgam of anxiety and excitement had taken its customary grip.

I was up, dressed and out of the door by 7.00am and headed south across Oxfordshire.

I had a vague plan to meet Andy and Rich somewhere near Remenham.It seemed logical as this was where the eagle had last been seen yesterday so why not start my search there? The Oxfordshire countryside did its utmost to postpone the onset of the winter blues and put some joy into this greyest of days, the trees glowing with  continuous colour, forming corridors of yellow, ochre, rust and gold  through which I drove on rural roads, the verges transformed temporarily into a fiery mosaic of already fallen leaves  

I passed through an awakening Henley, crossing the Thames here that marks the county boundary between Oxfordshire and Berkshire to follow a steep and rising road to Remenham Hill.The road eventually levelled out at an obvious summit, although I could see no birders cars despite the fact there was a convenient and large layby that would allow one to park and look across a considerable area of The Chilterns. It was an ideal vantage point with a wide grass verge on which to stand and scan beside a busy and potentially dangerous road

Why was no one here?

A message from Andy on  Sam's WhatsApp Group informed one and all that he and Rich were at nearby Aston, some two miles back towards Henley and with a good elevated view over a wide valley and its surrounding escarpments.I forsook Remenham and drove back north to join them

We stood here for half an hour and were joined by a few other birders responding to Andy's post.Of course there was no sign of any eagle but the Red Kites, that are prolific around here, were well into their routine of laconic cruising and loud whistling above the parkland and large gardens that were spread out below us. Every distant kite looked like a potential eagle -well of course they did but obviously they were not. A couple of Ravens flew across the valley, their black shiny bodies disappearing against a backdrop of dark conifers and only their regular croaking signifying their continued presence. Rose ringed Parakeets, never knowingly discrete, ripped the still air with their harsh excited shrieks as they flew high over our heads

Rich and Andy decided they wanted to get something to eat and refuel their car so left for Henley a mile or two down the road. I hung on with another two birders, all of us in agreement that it was probably going to be a long and more than likely unsuccesful day.I stared into a misty, mizzling distance, the ridges and trees blurring with the decreasing visibility.Tired from yesterday's exertions I was slipping into that morose half awake half asleep state of mind that comes as a consequence of getting up too early and the initial excitement and expectation fading rapidly as I stared at an eagle free sky.

Then everything changed

We learned via Sam's WhatsApp group that the eagle had been seen, the news bringing an instantaneous somersault of emotions and mild panic 

We were in with a chance

It was 0930 or thereabouts

And where was it?

Why of course it was at Remenham Hill!

I cursed myself for my lack of faith in my instincts.Why had I not followed my convictions and stayed there? Too late for recriminations now. The only thing to do was get back to Remenham as fast as humanly possible.Our cars were parked haphazardly  on a very narrow steep lane at Aston in front of various farm gates.First we had to reverse the cars in order to retrace our way back up the lane to the main road.It seemed to take an age to turn the cars and negotiate the long winding lane, praying that no car was coming the other way, for passing places were few and far between. 

As I drove I wondered what would the parking be like at Remenham now.Would the layby be full of birders cars? The answer was not quite, there was one space left and in I went.

My bins were already round my neck and there was no time for a scope.The priority was to see the eagle and I would view it more easily just with my bins. But where was it? Had it gone already?  The hedge on the opposite side of the road looked bulky and impenetrable but I could see several heads just about poking above it on the other side, looking at a group of low flying kites. How on earth did they get there?

The answer came as I watched a birder run across the road and in blind panic literally dive into a hole in the bottom of the hedge

It was the only way through. On hands and knees I followed, squirming through to find myself confronted by a line of legs and bodies constrained in a narrow gap between the hedge and a barbed wire fence guarding the field in front.Somehow I managed to stand upright in a crush of bodies and between two heads could just about see out to the field and some trees at the far side.

There was no time to gather myself before there came a shout. 

There it is!

It's with the kites 

It's low down flying between the two trees on the far side of the field.

It's the lowest bird someone else helpfully added. 

With bins raised I could see little as heads and bodies obscured any meaningful view. A gash of sky appeared between some heads and I saw several kites. I looked at the lowest bird. Was that it? 

No time to decide  as someone in front told me

It's gone behind the largest tree.

It was gone from view. Damn, so near and yet so far. Maybe I had seen it, probably not. Who was I kidding. I had seen several kites milling around and the lowest bird was presumably the eagle but how could I be sure with such a brief and restricted view.

This was hopeless.I decamped from the scrum and wriggled back through the hedge, crossed the busy road and joined half a dozen birders looking out and across to the trees from that side.They had seen the kite but they told me it had moved to the right and further down behind Rosehill Wood, a small area of mature trees, where it possibly had roosted overnight. Some crows were going mad in the treetops, flicking wings, craning necks and cawing anxiously.They could obviously see the eagle but we could not

We raced down the verge to get level with the wood thinking the kite might move further beyond. Andy was well ahead of me while I was about fifty metres beyond a large oak tree by the road and under which other birders were standing waiting and hoping for the eagle to re-appear.

The view from under the oak where I was shortly to see  the Booted Eagle flying above the trees in the middle distance.The edge of Rosehill Wood is on the right of  the picture

I was halted by a shout from the birders still under the oak tree

It's here !!!!!

I shouted to Andy and we hurtled back to join the birders under the oak. Everyone of them glued to cameras,scopes or bins and looking across the road

It's the lowest bird just above the trees, flying around with the kites Sam told me

A panic seized me at first as I could not get on it. I realised I was looking too far to the right.I had selected the wrong tree.I moved my view left and there it was.

Bingo!

At last!

You on it now? Sam enquired

Abso - bloody - lutely! 

Cheers

c Rich Bonsor

It was buzzard sized, compact and looked superficially similar but with squarer wings and a longer tail, flying back and fore over the trees, gently circling. It looked chunkier than the larger, slimmer kites and appeared dark all over except for a distinct pale band of wing coverts on the upperside of each of its wings and pale uppertail coverts. When it flew towards us the celebrated 'landing lights'. a pale patch on the leading edge of each wing where it joins the body were just about visible. It was on view for around ten to fifteen minutes before dropping below the ridge, only to appear briefly further left before moving away northwards and becoming lost to view in my bins.

I ran to the car to get my scope and moved much further down the road, finding a small gap in the hedge to myself and scanned the sky to the north, the direction it had flown. I  picked up a pair of large birds  at great distance high in the sky having a tussle. I could see a corvid vigorously mobbing  another larger bird.Corvids do not bother with kites around here as they are so familiar with them.It had to be the eagle and the scope views confirmed its profile and shape.Constantly harassed by the corvid it moved ever further north and west. By now it had to be right over Henley which is in Oxfordshire.

Should I claim it for my Oxfordshire list?

Later I learnt other observers had seen it moving over the northern outskirts of Henley in the mid morning and it then moved further into Oxfordshire being seen late morning between  Lower and Middle Assendon. After that it was not seen for the rest of the day despite people searching all over The Chilterns.

I was surprised how relatively few birders took a chance to come and see the eagle first thing today. I estimate no more than fifty of us saw it. Of course once the news came out of it being sighted at Remenham many more birders arrived but they were too late. Quite a number of birders came to Rosehill Wood in the late afternoon anticipating it would return to roost there but there was no sign of it.

Surely this bird has every chance of being accepted and if so could possibly become the first accepted record of a genuine vagrant Booted Eagle in Britain, assuming the dark morph bird in Cornwall is rejected. Could they be the same bird? There is also a slim chance that there will be a change of opinion about the 1999 record from the BBRC, in light of this year's sightings in Cornwall, Oxfordshire and Berkshire.. 

I went back to Remenham the next day, Sunday, to meet Adrian who was driving from Essex and found many more people had made the effort to come and try to see  the eagle after the excitement of the day before.Matters became increasingly chaotic and slightly hair raising alongside the busy road as many more people than yesterday broached the hedge and upwards of seventy cars parked on the wide grass verge by the road.I stood under the familiar oak tree with some of my Oxonbirder chums but there was no sign of the eagle nor were there nearly as many kites as yesterday.

A Peregrine perched in the tree the eagle had flown over yesterday and a Sparrowhawk flew high over the road. Fieldfares and Redwings began to appear in the open sky above the autumnal trees but did not stop.

Someone later claimed a brief view of the eagle from the oak tree vantage point but no one else saw it and the general concensus suggested a misidentification of a dark Common Buzzard although the observer remained convinced he had seen the eagle.

I gave up at noon and headed for home.The eagle was not reported all day. 

I wonder where it is now?

Is it still in The Chilterns or has it moved on to be discovered somewhere else in Britain?

Maybe it has headed south to Africa although it was last seen going northwest.

This bird constitutes species 538 that I have seen in Great Britain

With my grateful thanks to Rich Bonsor who has kindly allowed me to use his images of the Booted Eagle for my blog as my camera is currently being repaired

Turtle Doves on Shetland 14th October 2024

Our last day on Shetland arrived, having had three weeks of full on birding.In a way I was glad as both Mark and myself were feeling the pace. You could say we had birded ourselves to a standstill but not quite, for today we went in search of a Turtle Dove in a garden at Sandwick, images of which had been posted on Facebook the night before.

This was not my first Turtle Dove on Shetland as I had gone to see another on the 27th of September at the rather wonderfully named village of Toogs, not that far from Scalloway.Mark had stayed at home but I joined a few other birders to shelter by a wall and watch the dove flying to feed in a garden of one of the houses.It was pretty wary and you could not approach it closely but we all saw it well enough.

Today was a miserable day of low cloud, rain showers and strong wind but we made the pilgrimage to Sandwick and found the house and garden which lay right by the road, just down from the SPAR shop which we had visited a number of times when opportunity allowed, me to purchase the occasional four pack of Tunnocks Caramel Bars and Mark his favourite chocolate coated Brazils. 

We joined a small huddle of birders standing forlornly on the pavement by the garden wall and it was obvious that the Turtle Dove was not co-operating. The images posted yesterday had indicated it was feeding on the lawn that lay on the other side of the wall but today there was not even one of Shetland's ubiquitous Starlings to be seen. 

A large and rather dense conifer tree was at the bottom of the garden and as we stood hunched against the wind it became apparent that,  in its densest midst, it was sheltering a couple of Collared Doves, which had revealed themselves as they shifted their perch.Closer scrutiny revealed others in there too, parts of their bodies visible through the thick green of the conifer.This engendered some hope. Could the Turtle Dove be amongst them?

Various false alarms came and went as the barely visible parts of the Collared Doves sheltering in the conifer suggested they might be the target bird but all proved groundless although some were convinced they had already seen the Turtle Dove hiding in the tree.

Mark grew impatient and went to the SPAR shop for you know what.I hung on by the wall chatting to some of my fellow birders.

Five minutes elapsed when, for no reason I could fathom, the Collared Doves, many more than suspected erupted from the conifer in alarm and flew at speed over and away from the garden.I thought I saw a smaller dove with them but could not be sure.

Another five minutes elapsed and the Turtle Dove was found on the top of a large drystone wall on the other side of the garden.How it got there unseen no one quite knew but such questions  were for another time as everyone looked at the dove, remarkably well camouflaged on top of the haphazard stones that comprised the wall and quite content to remain in its exposed position. It stayed there for a long time,its head sunk into its shoulders and looking rather miserable, as so it should. for it really needed to be on its way to warmer southern climes by now.

I called Mark on my mobile to tell him the dove was now visible and he left the shop and walked back to join me.The dove meanwhile stirred itself and then dropped off the wall down into the garden picking at bits and pieces in the grass and coming closer and closer until it hopped from the grass onto a small retaining wall that bordered a concrete path running down the centre of the lawn.

I could see the dove was a juvenile, as one or two brighter coloured second generation adult feathers were coming through on its median wing coverts.How it got here and why is anyone's guess but it was perfectly healthy and I could only hope it decides to resume its migration south as it certainly has a long way to go to get back on course

I have not seen a Turtle Dove in Britain for over three years and the irony of seeing a second Turtle Dove on Shetland in the space of two weeks was not lost on me.We used to have them breeding on my local RSPB Otmoor reserve in Oxfordshire but they disappeared three years ago.I never thought for one moment I would see my next one, let alone two, on Shetland. Well who would?

THE END

Birds seen on our Shetland Trip

Red throated Diver; Black throated Diver; Great Northern Diver; Slavonian Grebe; Northern Fulmar; Northern Gannet; Cormorant; European Shag; Cattle Egret; Grey Heron; Mute Swan; Whooper Swan; Pink footed Goose; Greylag Goose; Eurasian Wigeon; Eurasian Teal; Mallard; Northern Shoveler; Common Pochard; Tufted Duck; Common Eider, Long tailed Duck; White winged Scoter; Common Goldeneye; Red breasted Merganser; Goosander; Eurasian Sparrowhawk; Common Kestrel; Merlin; Peregrine; Red Grouse; Common Pheasant; Water Rail; Corn Crake x 2; Eurasian Oystercatcher; Ringed Plover; European Golden Plover; Northern Lapwing; Knot; Sanderling; Purple Sandpiper; Common Snipe; Bar-tailed Godwit; Eurasian Curlew; Common Redshank; Turnstone; Arctic Skua; Great Skua; Black headed Gull; Common Gull; Lesser Black-backed Gull; Herring Gull; Great Black-backed Gull; Kittiwake; Sandwich Tern; Guillemot; Razorbill; Black Guillemot; Rock Dove; Wood Pigeon; Collared Dove; Turtle Dove x 2; European Nightjar; Skylark; Barn Swallow; Olive backed Pipit; Pechora Pipit; Meadow Pipit; Rock Pipit; Grey Wagtail; White/Pied Wagtail; Wren; Robin; Bluethroat; Whinchat; Northern Wheatear; Ring Ouzel; Blackbird; Redwing; Pallas's Grasshopper Warbler x 2; Lanceolated Warbler x 2; Paddyfield Warbler; Barred Warbler x 9 ; Lesser Whitethroat; Garden Warbler; Blackcap; Greenish Warbler; Arctic Warbler; Eastern Crowned Warbler (First for Shetland and Scotland); Pallas's Leaf Warbler x 2; Yellow browed Warbler x 23 ;Wood Warbler; Common Chiffchaff; Siberian Chiffchaff; Willow Warbler; Goldcrest; Spotted Flycatcher; Red-breasted Flycatcher; Pied Flycatcher; Golden Oriole; Red-backed Shrike; 'Steppe' Grey Shrike; Jackdaw; Rook; Hooded Crow; Common Raven; Common Starling; Rosy Starling; House Sparrow; Chaffinch; Siskin; Linnet; Twite; Lesser Redpoll; Common Redpoll; Common Rosefinch; Lapland Bunting: Snow Bunting; Little Bunting.

Mammals

Otter

Grey Seal

Common Seal