It was the last day of my early autumn holiday, which had seen me visit the Isles of Scilly, the Lincolnshire coast and my local site, Attenborough Nature Reserve.
I wanted to conclude my break productively, so my friend picked me up at 7am and we headed to the West Midlands or Birminghamshire, as I call it.
First stop was Alvecote Pools, a series of lakes set amid a quaint pastoral landscape, nestling among Miss Marple villages in the county of Warwickshire. My quarry was a Garganey, which had been there for a couple of days, but checking Mill Pool and another water, drew a blank. Lots of Shovelers though.
With my sights set on the next location, I gave up after what I thought was a decent crack at the duck and we continued south west to Sutton Coldfield, a leafy satellite town of the big city and much nicer than I had imagined. The destination was Sutton Park, an area of woodland and heathland of over 2000 acres. It was easy to forget that one was a stone's throw from the country's second largest conurbation.
I headed for the area of crab apple trees and scrub where a male Red-backed Shrike had been frequenting for about a week. When I arrived the bird was immediately on show and I walked slowly to get as close as I dare without flushing the bird and I got stunning views.
The bird had attracted a good number of photographers (no binoculars) and there was the expected pursuit of the bird with their superior equipment. I stayed put, which was a good move, as the bird alighted on a Silver Birch sapling at very close range and I got some nice photos.
Red-backed Shrike
I spent over an hour with the bird and it was a treat to see the species so well, particularly an adult male.
I fished around among the locals, for advice on any decent local birding sites. One guy advised of Middleton Lakes RSPB Reserve. This was 20 minutes drive away near Tamworth. We headed in that direction and found the site. Initially, we found the wrong car park, which was full of top of the range Mercedes and Audis, and din't look like the cars of the average birder. This is because we were in the car park of Aston Villa's training ground.
The RSPB car park was a further 50 metres down the track and we parked up among the Mini Coopers and Vauxhall Corsas.
Middleton Lakes is pretty well what it says on the tin. A load of lakes in the middle of farmland with patches of woodland. There were a lot of Chiffchaffs in the woods, Nuthatch on the feeders and a Treecreeper along the path to the car park.
Around the actual lakes was very little. Although there was some wader habitat, shorebirds there were none, unless you count Lapwing.
However, the day list was lifted by a Great White Egret, Little Egret and a Hobby hawking dragonflies.
Great White Egret
Hobby
Nuthatch
Back at the car park, I had some lunch and I considered going for a Wryneck in Leicestershire but it wasn't nailed on, so we called in at Attenborough Nature Reserve as we almost had to go past it on the way home. Being a sunny Sunday afternoon it was a mass of Joe Public enjoying the weather. However along Barton Lane was a Common Snipe. This was joined by a second bird and I managed a record shot before both birds walked out of sight. A 4th calendar year Herring Gull flew through and headed into Derbyshire. This was the second of the day after a juvenile flew over just as we had left my house.
With two full days left of my early autumn holiday, I wanted to make the most of it and got my friend to pick me up on the Saturday morning with the aim of seeing some waders in Lincolnshire and whatever else might be about.
First stop was Freiston Shore. I made my way to the hide and as it was bang on high tide there were heaps of Common Redshanks in the shallows of the lagoon right in front of the hide. I went through the flock and located just a single Spotted Redshank. However, it was the best views of the species on the day, so quality trumped quantity in this instance.
Spotted Redshank with Common Redshanks
Satisfied with these views, I headed for the sea wall. There was a lot of migration going on with Meadow Pipits streaming through as well as a steady passage of hirrundines - mainly Sand Martins and House Martins. I heard a Yellow Wagtail and by the 'beach hut' there was a male Northern Wheatear.
It was very birdy, but there was nothing in the bushes, just stuff moving through in the almost clear blue skies.
I checked the hide again, but all the Redshanks had flown off, although there were still a few at the back of the lagoon along with good numbers of Oystercatcher and Ringed Plover.
I had a coffee before we drove the 10 miles or so to Frampton Marsh.
Flashing my membership card, I had a look at the area to the left of the visitor centre and there were good numbers of Black-tailed Godwit, with two birds particularly close in.
Black-tailed Godwits
I took a few photos and returned past the centre and along the path past the main lagoon. There were a few Spotted Redshanks and Ruff, but nothing especially close. The 360 hide was limited to 10 people and with nine already there, I entered with my conscience clear. There were a few Spoonbill and a smattering of waders but everything was silhouette, given the position of the sun.
I didn't linger long and passed the Reedbed hide, where the water was high. Turning the corner, I reached the east scrape, where the muddy edge comes close to the path. I noticed an elegant wader quite close to, which even with the naked eye I could identify as a Wood Sandpiper. Feeling pleased with myself, I watched the bird and got a nice photo. I turned to see county colleague, Tom Malarkey who gazumping my Wood Sandpiper, informed me that he had just found a Pectoral Sandpiper. Assuring me it was showing well, I got another couple of shots of the Wood Sand and made my way to where a small group of people were looking on to the scrape.
I lifted my bins but couldn't see a Pec. Asking the others, I was informed that the bird had just flown off. I walked round to the hide, in case it had flown to the north end of the scrape - but nothing. I returned to the car for my packed lunch, assuming that the Pectoral Sandpiper had gone and then walked along the main public path to check out the pools along there.
Wood Sandpiper
There were 12 Curlew Sandpipers, along with 2 Little Stints and a few Dunlin in one group on a 'closish' bit of mud, and I got a record shot of the three species. I pointed out the birds and I was surprised when two birdwatchers questioned the identification of the Curlew Sandpipers on the basis that their bills weren't curved enough. It seemed they were under the impression that the species sported a bill like their much larger and eponymous relative. I put them right and pointed out their white rumps as they flew but they didn't seem to get it.
Curlew Sandpiper, Little Stint and Dunlin
Turning back with the intention of checking out the 360 hide again with the light now in a better quarter, I asked a passing birder if there was anything about and he said that the Pectoral Sandpiper had gone back to its original spot.
Not wanting to miss a good bird and with a second bit of the cherry, I headed back to the east scrape where another group of birders were standing around. I asked if the Pectoral Sandpiper was around, but in a case of deja vu, they said it had just flown off. One guy thought he had it, on the far side of the lagoon, but all I could see was a Ruff. I walked round to the hide for a second time and still there were only Ruff, including a small reeve, which was probably the bird that guy had been looking at, but no Pec.
I walked back feeling frustrated, even after what was a decent day. Another guy informed me, confidently that he was watching the bird, but it was a Dunlin. Somehow I had walked around the reserve twice and managed to miss the Pectoral Sandpiper. It's still there at the time of writing.
It was the second year in succession that I had enrolled on the pelagic trips run by Robert Flood on the Sapphire, expertly skippered by Joe Pender. Having missed Wilson's Storm Petrel the previous year and having not seen one since 1999, I was keen to reconnect with one of these legendary sea birds.
I stayed overnight in Penzance, after spending a few hours on the Hayle. It was fairly quiet apart from a smattering of commoner waders and a couple of Northern Wheatears. I also took the opportunity to snap the nearly tame Turnstones in Penzance harbour and other easy pickings.
Juvenile Great Black-backed Gull
Ringed Plovers
Turnstone
On the Saturday, I took the mid morning Scillonian in a cold northerly wind and light rain. This precipitation cleared half way out and Scilly was bathed in sunshine. Hearing that the Citrine Wagtail was still on Tresco, I grabbed a sausage roll from Kavorna and joined the queue for the boat. I had a ticket left over from October, so put it to good use. Arriving at New Grimsby, I hot footed it to the Swarovski hide and immediately located the wagtail, which was on the near corner of mud but close to the reeds.
It called a few times, which was nice - somewhere between Yellow Wagtail and Red-throated Pipit to my ears. It walked closer and I had amazing views, and would have got some fine shots, but just as I focused, two Green Sandpipers flushed the bird, and it flew to the back of the mud. On the plus side, I got a half decent shot of a Green Sandpiper.
Juvenile Citrine Wagtail
Green Sandpiper
I caught the last boat back to St. Mary's and checked in with Lisa at the Bylet. This is the guest house that I originally stayed at, back in 1985 and 1986 before settling on the Lyonnesse, where I have spent many happy hours over the years.
Hearing about a Curlew Sandpiper on Porthloo Beach, I walked via Porthmellon and found a small group of people watching the bird at some distance, as it fed among the seaweed. When the others had gone, I made my way very carefully along the slip way, until I was at a safe enough distance from the birds as not to disturb them, but close enough to give myself half a chance of a decent photo. For me, part of the enjoyment of bird photography is not getting the closest possible photo at all costs but the physical challenge of outwitting the bird by using whatever cover is available along with some old fashioned field craft.
I ended up getting the Curlew Sandpiper down to three metres, albeit in failing light. A Dunlin walked around my feet.
Curlew Sandpiper
Dunlin
With an early start the next morning, I grabbed some snacks from the Co-op when the queue had gone down and had an early night.
I was on the quay at 7.40am and met up with Alan Hannington. We reminisced over the hours of fun we had had compiling quizzes for a Facebook group during the peak of lock down, back in March and April. Facebook feels like a fridge freezer - in the sense of how did we ever manage without it in the 1970s? But it really proved its worth in the dark days of the early lock down.
Anyway, we set sail at 8am and with Alan on bread duty, we were soon attracting a nice group of gulls.
The first proper bird was a skua, which was quickly identified as an intermediate morph juvenile Long-tailed Skua, which made several passes of the boat. Watching birds on the boat was one thing, and you do get amazing views. However, taking photographs seems to require an extra level of hand-eye-feet co-ordination. I often thought I had got a stunning photo, only to find it was slightly out of focus, spoiled by camera shake or disappearing into the corner of the frame. Even so, the experience of seeing these birds at close quarters is thrilling and I love it. I could go on a pelagic every day!
The rest of the trip probably didn't live up to the initial expectations, although we did see a Great Shearwater, which was good in northerly winds, a nice group of European Storm Petrels and we got some amazingly close views of Fulmars.
Dropping down to Porthloo beach, I could see Martin Goodey focused on something on the seashore. Lifting my bins, I could see a Greenshank feeding on the tideline. I had now what could only be described as a challenge. Virtually any movement by me in that direction would flush the bird. Also, my position meant that any attempts at a photo were pointless as the bird was virtually in silhouette. I saw no alternative (apart from going back for more cake) but to lie on the beach and inch along the sand until I was at least level with the bird or even between it and MPG. This took five minutes of discomfort and I'm still finding sand in odd places now.
The result was a few nice shots, and a video.
Greenshank
Video of a Greenshank - Porthloo Beach
On the Monday, there was an evening pelagic going at 5pm from the quay, so I had the day to explore St. Mary's. I checked out Porthloo first thing, but the tide was out and all the birds were spread out, so I walked to Old Town via Rosehill and Lower Moors, adding Reed Warbler and Willow Warbler to the trip list. Walking around the coastal path, there was a smattering of Northern Wheatears between Giant's Castle and the airport, but my attempts to sneak up on a Wheatear were thwarted by a family who flushed the bird before I could get a photo.
I continued through Higher Moors and Holy Vale, by which time it was lunch and I paused at Longstones for refreshments. The Banoffee pie cake (to my mind more cake than pie - but I would have to defer to Mary Berry on that) looked tempting and as I tucked in, the unmistakable 'gyp gyp' of a Common Crossbill could be heard flying over. Cake and birds. That probably should have been the name of this Blog.
Banoffee Pie Cake
Walking back up to the main road, I had a plan to work Penninis before heading back to town for my rucksack and pick up rations from the supermarket. I went via the dump clump and had a pang of nostalgia over the Yellow-billed Cuckoo from October.
It was relatively quiet bird-wise but it's a lovely walk via the bottom of Old Town church yard. There seemed to be a lot of Linnets about along the coastal path, and I was well into three figures before I hit Peninnis head, where there seemed to be a Northern Wheatear on every rock. I had the headland to myself it seemed and with a bit of patience I managed to get a decent photo.
Northern Wheatear
I made my way along King Edward's Road and more Linnets were gathering in the hedgerow, and a few were flying down to the puddles that had formed in the potholes there. Walking tentatively forward I got to within a decent distance and then sat down on the grass verge, and waited for some birds to come down to drink. However, I had not factored in the gentleman who decided to stop in the middle of the track and strike up a conversation, thereby preventing my Linnets from slaking their thirst. I was minded to tell him to go away, but he was of an age to whom I tend show a bit more respect, so waited for him to finish his talk and move on.
Now undisturbed the birds began to come and go, mostly in one and twos, and I was quite pleased with the eye level photos I got of drinking Linnets. Lovely birds even in their autumn streakiness.
Linnets
With the pelagic just two hours away, I dropped in on friends and was supplied with some scrumptious Banana Loaf, and then went to the Co-op to get some supplies. While in the queue, Whatsapp beeped - reporting a couple of Black Kites over Salakee or some other far flung part of the island. Wondering how to react, I stood fast and got as far as third from the front when they came up as over the golf course. The cogs whirled and I realised I might be able to get them from the quay. In fact I didn't have to go that far and scanned the golf course from the little gap in the buildings adjacent to The Atlantic.
A few seconds of adrenaline and I picked them up, soaring over the Club House. Okay, quite distant but definitely Black Kites! They were only ever going to be a record shot without a television camera or something. @recordshotmyars would be proud of the photo.
Black Kites
I rejoined the queue, got some bits for the sea trip and met other birders down at the quay.
The winds were now southerly, which bode well for the evening pelagic. Indeed we were not far off from St. Mary's when the first good bird - a Black Tern was seen, although it didn't hang around.
This was shortly followed by a Great Shearwater - great views but no photos.
After another 20 minutes, we ploughed into a nice feed, with a hundred or more Manx Sheawaters and at least three Sooty Shearwaters, although in my enjoyment of the moment, I never managed any decent photos of the Sootys.
We steamed further out and 'dropped anchor' and chucked some chum over the side. This produced a steady trickle of European Storm Petrels feeding in the slick. However, it was just after sunset when it all kicked off - firstly with a really close Great Shearwater and then a Wilson's Storm Petrel. Bob picked it up in the slick and I was able to pick it out by following his description of the bird's behaviour, which is entirely different to the Stormies. Where as the Alamooties are all over the place - dancing over the water, the Wilson's seem to bounce up and down on the spot.
The bird was way too far out to even consider a photo, so I just enjoyed watching it. However as the clock approached 8.25 and with light seriously failing the bird flew round the bow and made a very close pass to port side and I just pointed the camera and hoped for the best. In the circumstances, I think it's a passable record shot. An hour earlier and it would have been a belter!
Great Shearwater
Wilson's Storm Petrel
My final day and I had two options - follow up a Spotted Sandpiper at Porth Hellick or go for a Temminck's Stint on the Tresco Great Pool. I opted for the latter as it was a Scilly tick. I had seen a summer plumaged Spotted Sandpiper on Tresco way back in 1985 and watched it through Bryan Bland's Questar.
I caught the first boat out on a beautifully sunny day. As we headed towards Carn Near, I scanned the horizon and picked up a large raptor way over the starboard side being mobbed by a Herring Gull to the north east of the island. Looking at bird's jizz, its behaviour and the movement of its tail and the pale shoulder bars, it was undoubtedly a Black Kite and presumably one of the birds from the previous day. I put the news out and headed straight for the Swarovski hide with the aim of being the first birder on the Stint. I arrived at the hide and as luck would have it - it was as far away as it could be but identifiable as a Temminck's Stint, especially with the assistance of an older gentleman's Swarovski binoscope. I watched the bird for an hour but it never came close enough for a decent photo while I was there. The stint also had two Curlew Sandpipers and two Dunlin for company.
Wanting to make the most of my last day, I struck out into the island with the hope of finding a Pied Flycatcher, on hearing that there was a mini fall of birds on St. Mary's. I wasn't disappointed, and had one bird by the sewage plant and then later, a relatively approachable bird by the David Hunt hide. I also had a Sedge Warbler here.
Pied Flycatcher
Leaving Tresco just as it seemed to be getting good, I was back at St. Mary's just in time to grab a Pasty from Kavorna and queue for the Scillonian. I spent the whole journey on deck - of course and was rewarded with a Cory's Shearwater with 100 Manxies and a single Great Shearwater.
I'll be back for a few days mid October hoping for the biggie.
Putting the previous weekend behind me, I was all pumped up for a day in East Yorkshire, with the morning at Spurn and the afternoon at Hornsea Mere where a large gathering of Little Gulls were gathering.
On the way north, good numbers of Common Swift were crossing the M62 and I had a single Red Kite on the way. Road closures in Hull meant a detour through the city, which added quite a bit of time to the journey but it couldn't be helped.
We stopped first at Kilnsea Wetlands, where there were three Curlew Sandpipers and a Little Stint along with good numbers of commoner waders.
Common Snipe
Curlew Sandpiper
At Spurn I immediately heard and saw a Whimbrel flying along the Humber. I headed for the sea-watching hide where a few people were set up. There were three more Whimbrels through, otherwise it was quiet. Giving up the half-hearted sea watch I approached the viewing screen on to the humber as an Osprey was moving through. It was initially close-ish but by the time I had watched the bird and got my camera fired up it gained height and headed away as a Peregrine began to pursue the larger raptor.
A nice moment.
Osprey and Peregrine
I returned to car for lunch and then headed around the canal scrape and along to the triangle where a Red-backed Shrike had been reported. I was shown the bush it had been in, but it didn't show while I was there and I settled on a male Whinchat as consolation.
We headed north in the early afternoon and arrived at Hornsea Mere at around 2pm. A guy with a scope said he had been there and hadn't seen any Little Gulls. 'What - not one?' Was my response. With up to 600 birds in the area, it would be bad luck to not see one!
Undeterred, I casually wandered over to the jetties opposite the cafe and three Little Gulls were loafing at the end, in company of an odd-looking Tern, which I decided was a 1st summer Common Tern.
Common Tern
Little Gulls
I got some nice photos of the birds before heading to the sea front, where the birds are also meant to congregate, but there was nothing doing. On returning to the mere, around 100 Little Gulls were swooping over the water. Thunder and crackles of lightning and a leaden sky put paid to any more birding and I headed for the shelter of the car before the heavens opened.
I had now cancelled three holidays owing to Covid-19 and my poorly mother. With the money saved on not going to Shetland, Scarborough and North Wales, I was keen to get in some nice day trips.
I was half-tempted to go for a Gull-billed Tern in Suffolk, but it seemed a long way and would be quite expensive even with my taxi friend giving me generous mate's rates. I thought Norfolk looked promising after a fall at Spurn, thinking stuff would filter down.
First stop was Titchwell, where after the obligatory track and trace, Ruff were right next to the hide. Otherwise there were a few Dunlin, Ringed Plover, Common Snipe but not the hoped for Little Stint and Curlew Sandpiper.
Ruff
Walking to the beach, it was fairly birdless, but all the action was on the foreshore with both Black-tailed Godwit and Bar-tailed Godwit and Sandwich Tern fishing close in and I took a photo of one carrying a Smelt in its bill.
Black-tailed Godwit
Bar-tailed Godwit
Godwits
Sandwich Tern
With nothing to keep me at Titchwell, we moved on to North Point Pools near Wells-next-the-Sea, where there was a very distant Wood Sandpiper, a Greenshank and three Spoonbills. News that three Long-tailed Skuas had gone past Cley, sounded promising, so we parked at Coastguards in the brisk north-easterly winds. I'm not sure if I should have stuck it out but after an hour nothing but Sandwich Terns were all I had to show for my efforts.
A glance at Birdguides showed that an Icterine Warbler had been seen in the 'Dell' at Wells Woods.
Wells-next-the-Sea was rammed with tourists and the car park by the pool was nearly full. However we found a spot and I headed into the woods. It had been a while since I had visited the site and I quickly realised that I wasn't sure where 'The Dell' was. Norfolk Birds describes it as 'A shallow depression at the back of the coastal dune and pine belt which is full of Silver birch scrub and trees.' I was later informed that it is an open grassy area with trees on three sides. I'm still not entirely sure.
In any case, I spent over an hour traipsing through the wood, seeing virtually nothing, when I discovered the tit flock that the Icterine Warbler had been consorting with, a stone's throw from the car park. Apart from a family party of Lesser Whitethroats, a Common Whitethroat and a Blackcap, there were some briefly interesting juvenile Willow Warblers, but no 'Icky' and I didn't even see one of the 13 Pied Flycatchers that had been there earlier - presumably having moved through.
I can't say it was a bad day, but I felt a bit deflated on the way home, and thought that I should have done better.
My Mother had now been hospitalized for three weeks and with no clear date of her discharge I took the opportunity to take a weekend away in pursuit of Roseate Terns in Northumberland. Covid-19 meant that my annual visit to Northumberland in June was not possible. However, news that Roseate Terns were turning up in the south of county opened up possibilities that could salvage my tern fix in 2020. I had work in the morning, but finished early in order to fetch some urgent supplies for my Mum and set off in the mid afternoon on a train to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I had to change in Newark-on-Trent, the train from Nottingham stopping at Newark Castle, which is in the middle of the town. Oddly, the mainline station Newark Northgate is a 20 minute walk on the other side of the town. It's a short ride in a taxi, but it was sunny and with the cricket on my head phones, it was a pleasant stroll through the back streets of the Nottinghamshire market town to my connecting train. LNER had made 'the difficult decision' to suspend catering on their trains, which meant no complimentary refreshments in first class. Hey ho. I arrived in Newcastle in the late afternoon and as the train approached the station, I ordered a taxi to take me to Newbiggin-by-the-Sea, a small seaside resort near Blyth. I was dropped off by the coast and I set out to explore the beach between Chapel Point and Beacon Point, a rocky stretch off coast with a muddy foreshore. There was an attendant gang of gulls, including several Mediterranean Gulls of various ages.
2nd summer Mediterranean Gull
1st summer Mediterranean Gull
Further along the beach an adult Arctic Tern hovers right in front of me and gives an amazing display of aerial skills. Okay, not quite the touching distance views of Inner Farne, but closer than just about anywhere else.
Arctic Tern
I jumped from stone to stone towards Beacon Point where a few terns were already gathering, although generally too far off for a photo, however three commoner species were there, plus a few Roseate Terns. I would probably have got good views with a scope but I hadn't bothered packing my full equipment for this weekend. Somewhat closer than the other birds was an adult Common Tern, which was watching over a juvenile that was roosting nearby.
Common Terns
A few more terns were arriving from the north and were collecting on the rocks, as the tide was rising. After another 30 minutes the most distant rocks were being covered by the tide and pushed birds to another set of rocks in the middle distance, but still not really close enough for some useful images. However, with the bins it was now possible to pick out Roseate Terns, which aren't all as obvious as you would expect. The very long tail tail streamers were now largely worn off, so that most birds had tails no longer than Common Terns. At range, the altogether paler plumage of Roseate Tern stands out as a useful id feature, although as they moved closer, this was less reliable. The bill colour was the most variable feature. There seemed to be four main forms - An ostensibly all black bill; a black bill with the slightest hint of red around the gape; a bill that was about half red/half black and a bill that was two thirds red with an extensive black tip. The final feature, which clinched Roseate Tern was the rather vivid orange rather than red legs, which were very obvious in the field when compared to Common Tern.
There were certainly classic Roseate Terns, which stood out from the crowd, but not all birds were instantly identifiable without recourse to noting the suite of features, although after a while I could pick them out without too much difficulty.
The juveniles were very obvious, being more like miniature dusky Sandwich Terns, rather than resembling Common or Arctic.
Two Roseate Terns with a Sandwich Tern
Left to right: Juvenile Roseate Tern, 1st summer Roseate Tern and a Common Tern
Three different bill colour variants on Roseate Tern
Adult Roseate Tern
By 6.30pm the birds had come as close as they were going to and I walked back along the coastal path into Newbiggin abd caught a taxi to St.Mary's Island where Roseate Terns had also been reported and because this was a stone's throw from my accommodation it seemed to be a good plan. Well, it would have been except, it was now almost high tide and all the rocks were completely under water. It wasn't birdless though and there were dozens of Sandwich Terns fishing off the sea wall and a few Kittiwakes flew past. However, it was 8pm and I was hungry, having skipped lunch and the proprietor of the guest house came to pick me up.
St. Mary's Lighthouse
Kittiwake - with a full crop
The Saturday morning, contrary to the weather forecast was dry and bright. I set off for St. Mary's Island, having gained permission to visit, as it was still officially closed owing to Covid-19. The causeway had just about become exposed and I made my way across, walking slowly, so as not to disturb the terns that were assembled on the rocks. This strategy was undermined by a seal volunteer warden who strode along in her hi-vis jacket putting the birds to flight. This at least allowed me to get a few photos, including Sandwich Tern and a juvenile Arctic Tern.
Juvenile Arctic Tern
Sandwich Tern
I walked up the steps past the lighthouse and scanned the rocks for birds. Apart from a Mistle Thrush, which looked rather out of place - a migrant? there wasn't much to see. However, this changed as several flocks of European Golden Plovers flew in from the north and flew around the island, some coming very close.
The birds were beginning to settle down on the rocks to the south of the causeway and on my way back, I paused to get a nice image of the birds.
European Golden Plover
I plodded around St. Mary's Island, which actually includes part of the mainland rather than just the island per se. It was rather quiet, although I did see a several Curlews, one of which was relatively confiding and a couple of very fresh juvenile Northern Wheatears, presumably recently down from the hills.
Curlew
Juvenile Northern Wheatears
I continued to Seaton Sluice and rather than the forecast heavy showers, I was bathed in sunshine and had to apply some sun block. A Meadow Pipit that had been singing by the coast path alighted on a fence and allowed very close approach. Very photogenic birds are pipits. I took the path along the Seaton Burn, in the hope of seeing a Dipper but it was very quiet and I had only Nuthatch, Coal Tit and a family of Bullfinches to show for my three miles walk. By the time I arrived at Holywell, where the hide was locked that looks over the pond I was thirsty and peckish, even after my huge full English - but that was some five hours earlier.
I entered the Milbourne Arms and ordered a Swedish Blond. No, it wasn't some dubious sideline to make-up for loss of takings during the lock down but the name of a local brew.
Meadow Pipit
Quenching my thirst
I planned to do the terns again, so booked a taxi to pick me up from outside the pub.
I arrived at Newbiggin-by-the-Sea at about 4pm and couldn't resist an ice cream from the vendor that was parked in the car park at Church Point. I took a slightly different route to Beacon Point and came across a bunch of gulls on the beach, including a couple of very attractive looking juvenile Mediterranean Gulls and I rattled off a few nice shots.
Juvenile Mediterranean Gull
There were generally fewer birds around the rocks than on the previous evening and when eventually more birds did arrive, the high tide wasn't so high as on Friday and the birds weren't pushed on to the nearer rocks. However, it was swings and roundabouts, as there were now 22 Roseate Terns present, compared with the eight seen the previous day. The favoured sloping rock held a minimum of six birds along with a few Common Terns.
Roseate and Common Terns
I only had half a day on the Sunday, but it was quite profitable, with another visit to St. Mary's Island. There were fewer birds on the rocks and being a sunny morning, crowds soon assembled on the rocks, scaring everything off the causeway. However, farther inland I had a quipping Common Quail, a reeling Grasshopper Warbler and a Blue-headed/Channel Wagtail type bird among seven or eight flavissima. Among the common stuff, a Reed Bunting was particularly obliging for the camera.
