Suffolk for Rare Migrants

Of the blog title, only one part is accurate. Suffolk. The cunning plan, with a nice easterly breeze, was to hit Landguard early morning and drown in wave after wave of downed migrants. Ringers from within the Obs would desperately call out through the fence for help in processing the oodles of rare birds caught up in the mist nets. We would have a cracking morning. In the event we saw three Wheatears and a rabbit. And they all flew off. Apart from the rabbit. That ran off.

We didn't stay long, and headed instead for Minsmere. Now Minsmere is a great reserve, but I have never seen it so barren. The scrapes that should have been teeming with Avocets, other waders and gulls were instead teeming with a Mallard. Yes, Mallard singular. A long-staying Fudge Duck, always distant, was inadequate recompense, but five minutes watching the sea produced a Sooty Shearwater, a Pom, and an Arctic Skua, after which I fell asleep in the dunes. Meanwhile at Landguard somebody found a Barred Warbler and a Pied Flycatcher. We didn't go back.

You would be looking a long time...