Ness Niceties And The Bohemian Arrival

In the last month or so I’ve managed a few visits to The Ness. From my own experience it tends to be quite decent at this time of year, even if conditions aren’t right for a strong passage of Little Auk or a Desert Wheatear. Considering that conditions were pretty bog standard, things went better than expected on each occasion.

My late October visit on 28th was the first time I had been in a good month or so, having missed out on the best mig action of the year there due to spending so long in Norfolk. It was only a brief stop off , fitting in a short seawatch off the Coo around what light remained that day. There had been a flurry of Little Auks the previous day, but from the surprisingly calm conditions it was this clear it wasn’t happening this time around. Nevertheless, we stuck around for half an hour in the hope that may be one or two would be moving. Things weren’t seeming hopeful after 15 minutes with not a hint of any auk passage whatsoever, and light starting to make things tricky. Ironically enough, I can recall saying ‘we’re flogging a dead horse here’  just seconds before I got onto something miniscule far out in front of one of the stationary boats. Whopping the scope up to maximum zoom revealed a tiny, tubby auk in veering flight. The familiar feeling of frustration metamorphosed into relief ; a Little Auk at last. We would have felt cheated not seeing at least one after what had happened the day before. The bird pounded north at a heck of rate; making views at best satisfactory and short lived. In the past I’d never been available enough to connect with some of the larger passages off there, so it had acquired the notorious patch bogey status. One was enough, finally settling my grudge with this sporadic species at the Ness. Before we left, a selection of waders were noted at Greyhope Bay, including at least 17 Purple Sandpipers.

My first November foray here was more thorough; a stop in in the morning before heading northwards on 3rd. I fancied that a few late migrants might be moving through after a night of light southerlies and rain, and was glad to be proved right in this respect. It was underwhelming quality wise, but numbers were higher than I’d expected, including at least 12 continental Robins from the allotments to Greyhope Bay, and a single Chiffchaff by the sycamore. Perhaps the highlight of the morning was 2 Siskins which stuck around briefly in the allotments before heading south; not by any means a regular patch species. Activity was very sparse otherwise, with 10 Ringed Plovers at Greyhope Bay the best of it, but I was able to to appreciate the bleak beauty of the Ness in the glorious, crisp morning sun.

The final breakwater along the North Bank (3/11/12)

For the next week or so birding opportunities were pretty sparse due to school work related pressures. A long weekend saw a little gap in my annoyingly tight schedule, and with freshening southerlies I dedicated the day (13th) to the Ness. Whilst the Desert Wheatear of my wildest imagination wasn’t there,  the session turned out to much better than I’d anticipated. Things seemed unerringly quiet up as far as Greyhope Bay, the best I could muster being 35 Turnstones on Skate’s Nose and a Red-throated Diver whilst I studied some locally colour ringed Shags.

The wind had picked up somewhat by the time I had got to the Coo to seawatch, making conditions rougher offshore. This proved to have its benefits. Gannets were moving in reasonably good numbers, with at 100+ N from 13:15-14:15. Tagging along with these were a few niceties, including a drake Long-tailed Duck in winter plumage and 11 Common Scoters north, whilst a pair of Goldeneye south were particularly interesting from a local perspective. 2 Great Northern Divers were of further interest heading north very close in, a species only personally recorded a couple of times beforehand at ‘The Ness’. This was eclipsed by a single Little Auk south, veering strongly as it struggled against the wind at close range and thus allowing for far better views than my first a few weeks previous. Yet even at close range, this rotund little fella was a dot surrounded by a tempestuous sea. Also noted were 4 Red-throated Divers north.

This had been the most interesting seawatch I’d had in a good while at the Ness, so I continued my circuit satisfied with how things had gone. The South Bank and the cover round the sewage works were typically quiet, as was the golf course as I headed back towards the northern edge of the headland. By the time I’d worked Greyhope Bay and the Battery again, light was starting to go. With no more than half an hour light left, I headed speedily back along the North Bank. As I neared the first breakwater an almighty squeal sounded as I flushed something from right under my feet on the path. This delicate bird headed quickly for the cover with legs dangling; long bill, gleaming undertail coverts and heavily barred flanks on display; a Water Rail. I climbed up onto the bank in an attempt to flush it again. A few muffled squeals were heard, but it proved to be typically recalcitrant despite being in dead cover, evading me entirely. This was a bit of a patch mega, with just 4 previous records I can find to date. To put this in context, this is probably as rare as Desert Wheatear at the site. A much appreciated climax to a rather more productive day than originally expected. As I headed towards the bus through Torry, a couple of Peregrines were performing aerial antics over Victoria Bridge.

***

Also of local interest has been an arrival of Bohemian Waxwings in Aberdeen City this month. By Aberdonians standards, the arrival has been decent enough but by no means unprecedented.  On the first week of November they were daily at school (Aberdeen Grammar School) with 60 being the largest flock on 9th, whilst 40 flew over the house and 424 were had by others at Kincorth the following day. During the last couple of weeks numbers dwindled around school and the city centre, with 35 being the only group during that period on 16th, but just in the last couple of days these  aptly named nomadic punksters have made somewhat of a comeback around the school. After 40 over school on Monday (26th), my highest total of the year was scored yesterday (27th) with about 85 in the school area: 75 on the trees at the front entrance to the school and another 10 at Huntly Street. Though I’ve cumulatively probably had c.200 birds this month, a flock of 100+ together would round things off nicely for the winter. Deem that high standards at your own peril; after all it is the Waxwing Capital Of Britain!

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

A Severe Case Of Thrush

I’m not referring to the fungal infection of mankind nor the bacterial infection that horses get on the soles of their hooves. We’re talking Turdus. Late October 2012 saw arguably the largest fall of thrushes (and passerines in general) of recent years thus far along the east coast, likely even of the century. Thousands upon thousands of them. Utter infestation. On Tuesday 23rd October it provided me with what can only be described the most evocative and enrapturing birding experience of mine to date.

***

Ironically, it all kicked off in Norfolk the day after Dan and I had been bashing Burnham Overy and Holkham. Only when I got back from my day out in London did I realise the enormity of what I had missed out on along the coast: thousands of winter thrushes and hundreds of Robins and winter finches, with a seemingly very obliging Red-flanked Bluetail at Stiffkey as the creme of the crop. I very hastily organised transport for the following morning. After the hard graft three days out beforehand I needed satiation, so made the decision to start at Stiffkey for the Red-flanked Bluetail. Norfolk was shrouded in fog that day, so dense at points visibility was down to no more than 30ft; trees and whole landscapes entirely obscured. Adrenaline levels were at an all time high as I headed up to Sheringham on the train, anxious to immerse myself into the fall atmosphere. On that train journey alone I could see the great extent of the fall, with at least 150 winter thrushes seen on the train route before reaching the coast. Three species of thrush (Redwing, Fieldfare, Song Thrush) were in a single tree by the bus stop in Sheringham and erupting from most roadside thickets on the way to Stiffkey. As soon as I was able to get out there, I knew I’d be in for a truly breath-taking spectacle.

Getting off the bus, I followed a couple of birders down a path towards Stiffkey Campsite Wood. Needless to say progression to the campsite was slow, finding myself immediately immersed in the fall. Hundreds upon hundreds of thrushes, infesting every thicket, ever tree. Whole throngs of thrushes were ascending constantly from the stubble fields surrounding the grass lane; the air filled constantly with the chattering of Fieldfares and the metallic zips of Redwings. Estimated counts on this small stretch alone were 150 of the former and 400 of the latter, as well as some 40 Northern Blackbirds , outlandish looking with their entirely dark bills, 30 continental Song Thrushes and 10 continental Robins. This number of birds in such a small area was astonishing in its own right, but was nothing compared with what was to come. I was hoping for a few Ring Ouzel in amongst them, but it wasn’t to be at this point.

After what seemed like a while I made it to the campsite wood. Brambling was heard immediately, and I bypassed a few folk watching a Redstart. Moving west through the wood, it became clear this Bluetail hadn’t been seen in a while as the twitch seemed to be strewn across quite a large area. I joined the search and to my luck had a glimpse of a passerine with very fiery flanks dipping into a small thicket beside me more or less immediately. It popped its head up and fully confirmed itself as the gorgeous, stonking 1st winter male Red-flanked Bluetail. The twitch became a tightly knotted group once more. The ensuing 45 minutes were spent watching this extremely obliging fella as it did an endless circuit of a small area. It was like being in heaven; gracing the admiring crowd with crippling views down to 5-6ft at points. This is a species of timeless beauty, one of those birds that will personally always be the stuff of dreams regardless of how many I see in the future. This particular individual was a more well defined individual than my previous 2010 bird on Fair Isle, with both the white throat and the flanks being far more accentuated on this individual. The actual tail comparatively didn’t seem quite so fresh as the Fair Isle bird, perhaps because of the outstanding nature of the aformentioned two other features. Having seen this bird so well, all the disappointments of the previous days birding had well and truly vanished. This was already a lastingly memorable day. It was however, going to get even better.

Red-flanked Bluetail, Stiffkey Campsite Wood (23/10/12). These two superb photos courtesy of John Miller.

my comparatively abysmal digi-binned attempt when it was at very close quarters

Spellbound already, I pondered on the enormity of what had just happened on the bus to Salthouse. Such pondering meant time flied by and I was wandering up the road to the beach at Salthouse in no time at all. A Snipe and 2 Ruff were noted on one of the roadside pools, whilst a female Marsh Harrier was ambling around. Once at the car park I headed slowly east towards Kelling along the path, new territory to me. This walk would normally take 20 minutes or so, but ended up taking about an hour due to the insane amount of activity going on. At least 150 Redwings, 60 Fieldfares and 20 Song Thrushes were noted along this mile long stretch, exploding out of tiny pieces of cover and heading straight inland. The areas of covers and fenceposts along this stretch were brimming with other birds, primarily continental Robins which were in massive evidence, at least 30 noted, many perched upon the barbed wire. At least 10 Goldcrests were dotted around, whilst a single male Brambling and a late Northern Wheatear were noteworthy. I clocked this Wheatear more or less at the same time as a super looking 1st winter Snow Bunting, which proceeded to show its adorable self at close quarters.  I took lunch as these birds went around their business and Robins, Redwings and other winter thrushes coming in off the sea landed exhausted on the shingle. After a while I picked something large on the horizon. Interested, I watched it come closer with ghostly, floppy wingbeats: a Short-eared Owl. This majestic beast veered eastwards as it was midway towards the shore, so instead of it flying right overhead I watched it drift low over the shingle about 70ft away, before disappearing over the bank of the dunes. Watching this happen brought back nostalgic memories of the previous October after seeing a few come in off Titchwell, so I continued towards Kelling enthused and exhilarated.

1st winter male Snow Bunting, Salthouse (23/10/12).  Another top class digi-binned piece of photography.

I eventually stumbled my way through the fog into Kelling, pitching up about a quarter of a mile’s walk from the water meadows. A path straight ahead of me seemed to be leading to Muckleburgh Hill, so I opted to take this path. This proved to be a very worthwhile move, as I stumbled across a huge flock of winter thrushes and Starlings on the airfield. Once the airfield was fully in view I was presented with a sheen of thrushes and Starlings strewn right across it; probably the biggest numbers of passerine I had ever seen together, in one field. I took the opportunity to revel in this lastingly memorable experience, spending at least 20 minutes stuck by choice to that single vantage point. The field was predominantly made up of Redwings and Fieldfares, with good numbers of Blackbird and comparatively very few Song Thrushes; estimate totals in this field alone were: 600+ Starlings, 400+ Redwing, 200+ Fieldfare, 150+ Blackbirds and 40+ Song Thrushes! As if they had formed a clique, a group of 7 Ring Ouzels (4 males and 3 females) were gorging on a nearby bush and chucking away at each other, their lovely silvery wing coverts blessing my scope’s eyepiece. These were my first of the year and easily the largest group I’ve ever seen together on the coast. They weren’t the last in this general area, with at least three other males at Muckleburgh Hill. Asides from ‘the obvious’ in the context of the day,  also on said hill were a sizeable group of at least 20 Goldcrests, a Chiffchaff, 15 Lesser Redpoll, a 1st winter male Reed Bunting and a flyover Snipe. On the way back down towards the water meadows I flushed a cracking smoky 1st winter Black Redstart. This beauty of a bird proceeded to show well on a pillbox for a good minute or so, before dipping right over the end of the airfield, becoming lost amongst the throng of thrushes.

looking towards Kelling Water Meadows from Muckleburgh Hill (23/10/12)

the Black Redstart pillbox, looking back towards Muckleburgh Hill (23/10/12)

I finally met the first birder of the afternoon as I got to the water meadows. A patcher, I told him about the Black Redstart and other things I’d had, and as it was a patch tick he went off to see if could search it out. I met up with him an hour or so later and he confirmed it was still around the pillbox. Once down at the Water Meadows, I proceeded to check thoroughly the different quags and the entirety of the thickets along Meadow Lane. Activity was so insane that I found myself spending what time remained entirely in this area.  Thrush numbers were absolutely astounding, tons upon tons exploding out of every little bit of thicket along a lane that I had imagined would be amazing and brimming with birds on a fall. To see this thought becoming realised on just my second visit was just ineffable. In the entire area (including surrounding fields), I estimated another 600 Redwings, 300 Blackbirds, 100 Fieldfares and 10 Song Thrushes on top of the numbers noted at Muckleburgh and the airfield. I can safely I’d never been in such a bird filled situation ever before.

Not only were there immense numbers of thrushes, but it was also chock a block with Robins and to my excitement Bramblings. Covering the entire area (Muckleburgh Hill etc.) at least 200 Robins were noted, numbers which just would seem completely surreal on any other day but tangible on such an extraordinary day as this. The Bramblings were located as I headed up the western quags (locating a second Chiffchaff on the way). As I reached the top of the quaags a field appeared into view which positively erupted with finches as I approached. I discovered that this wasn’t due to my approach, but due to the re-appearance of the Short-eared Owl I’d had coming in off at Salthouse earlier, gliding across the field and wreaking absolute havoc before scanning the area from the comfort of its briefly adopted perch with a cat-like intensity. After it dipped away I focused on the finches which were once again feeding in a tight group intently in the field. After some very meticulous counting, to my great excitement I noted at least 150 Bramblings, 60 Chaffinches, 20 Goldfinches and 6 Siskins. After everything that had happened prior, this seemed just ridiculous!

This was a birding paradise, and I was dreading the darkness. I steaked out the last half an hour of light close to the water meadows, reveling in the thrushes (including more Rouzels) and the Robins. The water meadow itself held a Little Egret, 10 Teal and of most interest 3 Swallows south through, amongst the latest I’ve ever seen. A birding couple appeared late on, and shared the invigorating beauty of this experience with me. As darkness descended I made way to the bus stop at Kelling village. As I waited a Tawny Owl called from afar.

Meadow Lane at Kelling, thickets infested with thrushes (23/10/12)

It really was one of those days when the birding of your wildest dreams has just come true. Though I have had a few better days from a rarity perspective, this was the first day that these wild hopes had been realised, and beyond proportion. That day I can safely say that I saw a higher density of birds during a fall and non-stop than I had ever done before (and probably ever will for years yet) and plenty of decent birds for good measure ; Rouzels, Bramblings, Black Redstart, SEO etc. To have this more or less all to myself, Add that to fantastic views of a Red-flanked Bluetail and you have pretty much the best day’s birding I’ve ever had. The overall mig totals from your’s truly on a 5hrs 30 min stint from Salthouse to Kelling are below. When you consider that these totals were not as high as those seen elsewhere on the coast in those few days such as at Holme and Wells, that says something about just how inimitable this period of birding was…

Black Redstart (x1 1w), Ring Ouzel (x15+),  Short-eared Owl (x1 in off then at Kelling), Brambling  (x150), Redwing (x1000+), Blackbird (x600+), Fieldfare (x300+), Song Thrush (x50), Robin  (x200+), Starling (x600+), Goldcrest  (40+), Snow Bunting (x1 1w male), Chiffchaff (x2), Wheatear (x1), Swallow (x3), Chaffinch (x60), Goldfinch (x20), Siskin (x6+), Lesser Redpoll (x15), Reed Bunting (x1), Snipe (x2)

Thanks for reading,

Joseph

Three Days

Having had my brief visit to Durham, I spent 15th-25th in Norfolk. As usual this meant plenty of birding, with 4 days out on various parts of the coast interspersed with religous patching of Costessey House Private Estate. 3 out of the 4 days can only really be described as hard graft, in what were probably the quietest conditions I’ve ever experienced in Norfolk. Rewards were thin and bird numbers negligible, so some eking out was on the cards. This was successful enough to retain at least some motivation before I emerged out the other side on the fourth day (which will have a blog post to itself). Each day also proved valuable in increasing my understanding of the coast as I found myself covering places that hitherto I hadn’t visited.

***

On 17th October I spent the day walking the length of Wells Woods/Holkham Pines and to the eastern edge of Burnham Overy Dunes, a good three or four miles. Whilst conditions weren’t favourable for passerine migs, I expected that several hours in the woods would at least produce a Yellow-browed Warbler, so with this prospect in mind I headed up to the coast with a certain spring in my step. My plan was to work the woods from east to west, so I got off at Wells and made the surprisingly long trudge up to the woods on the path adjacent to Wells Quay. The tide was reasonably low at the quay, so I took the oppportunity to have a scan. It was the most productive period of birding all day, producing a healthy total of 15 Grey Plover, a group of 150+ Golden Plover distantly towards East Hills, 4 Bar-tailed Godwits, 70 Brent Geese and 2 Little Egrets. Skylarks and Meadow Pipits were vis-migging, with small numbers heading west. Omens seemed quite good at this point, so I was hopeful as I entered Wells Woods. I headed straight for the Dell, with the hope that the Yellow-browed I had envisaged would kindly reveal itself amongst the Goldcrests.

Lots of Goldcrests, but no YBW. This situation was pretty much mirrored throughout the whole of the pines, all the way to the start of Burnham Overy Dunes.  Goldcrests, and only Goldcrests, with a conservative estimate of 70 spread throughout the pines. This became clear before I’d got as far as Holkham, so I was hoping some activity on the freshmarsh would provide some recompense. A good spell at Washington Hide can only be described as fruitless. I had never seen so few birds on the freshmarsh before. There was no Pinkfeets, very few winter ducks save a group of 60 Wigeon, nor anything else. Aside from the Wigeon group it was more or less empty, so I quickly resorted to scanning the sky. 2 Buzzards unfortunately did not have white tails with contrasting broad dark subterminal bands. A Sparrowhawk accompanied them. The aforementioned 4 species was it in terms of entertainment. I completed my trek to end of the pines, and took lunch at the eastern edge of Burnham Overy Dunes, new territory to me. I could see the famous Gun Hill in the distance, alluring. Rationality and demoralization kicked in however, so I decided to meander back towards Holkham. It had been a lovely day weather wise and felt rewarding physically to have walked the length of the wood, but the prevailing feeling as I headed home was of disappointment.

the west end of Holkham Pines and Holkham Freshmarsh, as viewed from the start of Burnham Overy Dunes (17/10/12)

Looking back to Wells Woods from Holkham (17/10/12)

The following weekend (20th-21st) was spent entirely birding. On the Saturday I was based further east, starting at Cley where I hoped to liven the spirits by catching up with a White-rumped Sandpiper that had been around for a couple of days. This bird had been mobile between Pat’s Pool and the North Scrape, so I made sure that both these areas were checked. I arrived in the hope that it would be present or would at least have been seen that day, but was soon given news that there had been no sign all day. Nevertheless, I gave both Pat’s and the North Scrape a good look. I checked Pat’s from Bishop Hide, where there was quite a bit of wader activity with 50 flighty Golden Plover, 2 Ruff and 6 Snipe, the latter keeping well camouflaged towards the reeds. They became freaked when 2 Marsh Harriers flew through, but soon settled down again. The North Scrape was teeming with Wigeon (at least 200), but very few waders were interspersed with them, the best being a Knot and another Ruff.

I managed to stop myself from feeling demoralized as we headed to Kelling, with a vague hope that I might get news that the White-rumped Sand was back and head back to Cley from the aforementioned site. This was the first time I had visited Kelling, and Iwas keen to check out the water meadows and other habitat here. The water meadows were a good 10 minutes from the village, requiring us to walk down a lane encompassed by a wall of thickets and blackberries, which looked great but hard to work for passerines in the right conditions. The whole area was pretty quiet, the water meadows holding just 30 Greylag Geese and 2 Teal. The fields towards the beach held a good congregation of geese, including 2 Barnacle Geese amongst 150 Canada Geese. That was our lot, but I see the site was full of potential. I would be back again a few days later…

walking down the lane towards the water meadows at Kelling (20/10/12)

Kelling Water Meadows (20/10/12)

With no more news on the White-rumped Sand, we continued as planned eastwards, making the lengthy journey away from the north coast Waxham on the east coast. If anywhere, I felt that this site would provide the opportunity of something decent from a self-find perspective. Walking along the dunes here and checking the scrub around the church did hold a few migrants of interest, but of the sort that were migrating regardless of weather conditions. This included 30 Redwings, 10 continental Song Thrushes, a single Fieldfare and 10 Goldcrests. Somewhat inspired, we saw out the remains of the day at Horsey Gap, staying until dusk. Despite plenty of bush bashing the best I could produce was a few more Goldcrests, but an overhead movement of 50+ Meadow Pipits provided some interest.

The day ended with one of the most evocative nature experiences I’ve had to date. In complete awe, we watched an extensive, incandescent sunset descend over the fens. Whole strands of cerise illluminated the skyscape and mist started to form along the fields, tightly but thickly hugging the ground in that archetypal autumnal way. As the sunset became ever stronger, the melancholy yell of a Crane echoed in the distance, reverberating across the broadland expanse. It sounded five times. I lit up inside. This was the first time I had heard this Norfolk speciality, and to hear it during a breathtaking sunset felt intensely special. It stopped. As I reflected on what was happening, a group of Fallow Deer emerged out the mist, including a fine stag, and ran out into the middle of the field to feed. Eventually, the deer were obscured by darkness and the cerise rays died out.  After a hard graft day, this was the best possible remedy I could have hoped for. An experience that will remain dear (so to speak) for a long time. Hopefully the pictures and your imagination below will give you an idea of just how astonishing this was.

sunset over Horsey Gap, with Horsey Mill in the distance (20/10/12)

Fallow Deer Stag, Horsey Gap (20/10/12)

Fallow Deer group, Horsey Gap (20/10/12)

***

On the Sunday I met up with Daniel Watson to bash the very same area of coast I’d worked earlier that week, Holkham Pines, with the added addition of working Burnham Overy Dunes. With light easterlies picking up that morning, we hoped that we might be in with the chance of finding something decent from the east. We started at Burnham Overy Dunes, taking in the cover all around here, including Gun Hill. This was the first time I had worked this top site, and considering that easterlies had only just strengthened it was quite enjoyable and gave pretty good first impressions. At least 25 continental Robins, 10 Goldcrests and 50 Song Thrushes were noted, mostly in the scrub at Gun Hill. At the aforementioned I had a very brief female Blackcap, whilst Dan flushed 9 Grey Partridges – a personal Norfolk first.  An Olive-backed Pipit had been reported with 100 Meadow Pipits, but this nor any large numbers of Mipits were obvious. On Burnham Overy saltmarsh 5 Grey Plover, 4 Little Egret, a young male Marsh Harrier and 100 Redshank were noted. This mini fall was the omen of something bigger and much better to come over the following few days…

looking east from Gun Hill, Burnham Overy Dunes (20/10/12)

the saltmarsh at Burnham Overy

Unfortunately, Holkham’s curse of deadness remained, the pines holding the same batch of Goldcrests in lesser numbers and a Chiffchaff, and the freshmarsh holding very little in the way of anything once again. We found our efforts being largely directed towards sorting out a Buzzard based conundrum in which several people had become convinced they were watching a Rough-legged Buzzard. The bird that most were confused about was blatantly a Common Buzzard, but we soon picked up another bird in flight over Lady Ann’s Drive which had been the source of confusion on news services. Also a Common Buzzard, this bird had a very diffuse dark sub-terminal band at best – not broad enough for Rough-legged Buzzard nor diagnostically contrasting with a white tail – complete with a darkish head and a dark underwing lacking a visible carpal patch. A third very pale Buzzard was also picked up at distance. As much as we’d have liked one of these Buzzards to have been a Rough-legged, it wasn’t to be. Whilst good fun, this conundrum was all we really had to work with at Holkham.

Dan was staying at Brancaster, so we finished off by scanning the saltmarsh from here for raptors. On the way we were astonished to flush a male Merlin from the rooftop of a house, a stunning bird seeming almighty out of place in the suburban environment. At the saltmarsh we watched several species going to roost, including a female Marsh Harrier, 70 Curlew, 9 Black-tailed Godwits, 100 Golden Plover and over 1000 Starling, the latter a migrant group and a delight to watch as they headed westwards en masse. I left Dan here; the day had been a good laugh and it was good to see him again. Despite a decent enough start it had been another hard graft day.

***

Eking stuff out more or less perfectly describes the three days accounted above. I was in Norfolk in October, and frankly I was hoping for better passerine wise. My desire for decent passerines needed to be attended to. It was, to the point that I’d forgotten the frustration of times past…

Thanks for reading,

Joseph
PS: I am now part of a collaborative blog by young birders called 2nd Calendar Year Birders – see more posts from me and other young lads on here if interested.