See it, say it, win it

Well this is almost unprecedented. Not since 2017 have I managed 50 blog posts by the end of March. And yet here we are. Antipathy is somewhat to blame, a lack of write-ups in 2024 contributing to a surfeit in 2025, yet this diminishes the scale of the effort. At a time when blogging is essentially dead I have managed to defy the odds by a huge margin. An alternative view would be that I am just not getting the message. I know, I know. I was talking to a fellow patchworker the other day about my camera, knowing I had made the big switch he had asked how it was going. OK, I said, had he seen any of the stuff I'd posted from Morocco, my first proper trip with it? Er, no. I don't blame him at all, it is just the way things are. I could write a blog about it....

Meanwhile I am behind on trips again. When you travel as relentlessly as I appear to do this is bound to happen. Texel is as long ago as February, I've since spent a weekend in the Algarve and a day on Jersey, a long held ambition. Both were excellent and will appear here soon, however there is something much more important to convey. There is Wheatear news. Yes, it has happened. As my regular reader will know my first day of March 12th passed without troubling the scorers. The day I would have chosen, March 15th, was also a blank. I was not upset about this. The rest of that week was also Wheatearless and to make matters worse we were pipped to the post by Walthamstow of all places. Gah! 

Saturday dawned overcast and with some scattered showers. The first bird found was a Stonechat, new in. Things were looking good. This was Tony's day, and having found the first Wheatear on his chosen day in 2024 he was on for the double double. A year ago he had been stood next to Louis when a Wheatear had popped up. Tony beat Louis to the exclamation by a millisecond. Ever since then Louis has been in an intensive training regime managed by Gosia. Wheatear cut-outs have been placed around the house, stapled onto sticks, pasted onto windows, and for nearly 12 months Louis has been coached to within an inch of his life in not only how to spot a Wheatear but how to enunciate the word "Wheatear" with almost no latency. Would this be enough? Tony is pretty sharp, and after a week at work he is itching to get out there, straining every sense in the pursuit of that one singular goal. The double double. Louis for his part has been out every day, practising on Redwing, Dunnock, Skylark and Song Thrush. By the time Saturday came around he'd done something like 30 hours that week. See it, say it, win it. This is the mantra. There were no Wheatears to practice on, but you should hear him on Cormorants. 

Shortly after James found the Stonechat Bob upped the stakes by finding a Black Redstart at the southern end of the Brooms. Tony, James and I were ideally placed having been at Angel looking for Snipe. Black Redstart is is a patch mega, the first and only record being in 2013, in other words a patch tick for almost everyone, and we hurried over there so that James could qualify for buying us all breakfast (you get a patch tick, you buy the coffees). Louis was at the wrong end of the Brooms and thus missed out on an ideal warm-up but managed to get over there with Gosia, Eve and Tim to see it before it vanished. Good, very good even, but nonetheless not a Wheatear.

Black Redstart with handsome but blurred birder in the background. © James Heal

You cannot have both Stonechat and Black Redstart on the patch and not have a Wheatear was the general feeling. Once we had all reassembled at the northern end of the Brooms we were on high alert. James toddled off to get the coffees in and this of course proved the ideal moment for a Wheatear to pop up on a tree. For my part I had just at this moment decided to go and see if James was on his way back and needed assistance, and Tony, well where was Tony? Nowhere is where. Louis smoothly spotted and called the Wheatear in an almost nonchalant fashion leaving Tony and the rest of us in the dust. We all got on it after the second call before it dropped off to the left and out of view but of course it was game over by then. Tony retains the overall trophy, but the finders award goes to Louis. Well, to Louis's trainer if we are being honest. Gosia has had but one goal in mind since Louis's abject failure to say a crucial word on March 16th last year, and she has pursued it singularly. Dave Brailsford and the science of marginal gains has nothing on Gosia. Louis is exhausted, relief rather than elation but, like an Olympic campaign, it has all been worthwhile. The presentation will be in a couple of weeks, this reporter plans to be present.

Wheatears are sensible

The wind has been a nagging constant, quite biting at times. It has felt distinctly wintery and not at all like spring. Quite sensibly Wheatears have decided they want no part of it and have stayed away. I am not sure where they are. Not here at any rate, even though this is prime time. There were quite a few Northern Wheatear in Morocco in January, I don't know if they winter there or were on the move from further south, but for all I know they may still be there enjoying warm and sunny weather. In Wanstead, where it is neither warm nor sunny, I was out again this morning searching diligently on behalf of whoever's sweepstake day this. Whoever they were they weren't out there searching with me. Even though this is disappointing it is also entirely logical when you consider that it was a) freezing and b) completely and utterly dead with a capital D. Dead. I'll try again tomorrow, as the week progresses it is supposed to be getting a bit warmer. Some years ago I found my first Wanstead Wheatear in a gap between snow flurries. That was back when Wheatears were tough and manly and just on with it. The new generation of Wheatears are clearly a bit sensitive. Whokears.

Talking of warmth, or the lack of it, on Saturday we went to Kew Gardens to meet up with some friends. As west London was as glacial as east London we spent most of the time inside the various greenhouses - the Palm House, the zoned Princess of Wales Conservatory, and the magnificent Temperate House. These sensational plant collections make my attempts at growing tropical plants and succulents here in Wanstead look amateurishly pathetic but wandering around them they reminded me how much I liked plants, how much I somehow know about various plant families, and more importantly what my plans for the 2025 growing season were. I actually made a to-do list as I was walking around. I needed to clean this or that plant, my Aloe suprafoliata could do with repotting, such and such plant needs trimming.... Needless to say once back home the following day and brimming with enthusiasm I disappeared into the greenhouse and was not seen for several hours. A bunch of Aloes have now been repotted, not just the one I had in mind, dead leaves have been removed, insect pests have been dealt with and a host of other things. I was so busy that I completely lost track of the time and was almost late for a lunch engagement in north London. 

What really struck me about Kew was how much better the plants grew either directly in beds or in larger pots. I have plants that have barely changed in size in several years and there are direct comparisons to be made as I once donated some spare seedlings to Kew Gardens. I refound one of these plants on Saturday and was both pleased at how massive it was and disappointed at how puny it's relatives that had remained in my care were. The difference? The restrictions of a pot, and constant heating paid for by £25 entrance tickets - gah! Not that I can do much about my growing conditions. I can't really afford to heat the greenhouse to the ideal temperature during the winter and Mrs L would surely object if I tossed the sofa into the garden and replaced it with a raised bed. But I can dream, and perhaps increase the pot size of a few choice plants....  Wheatears? Who cares about Wheatears?

Well that's a relief

Today would have been my Wheatear day had I been alert enough to actually give Tony my choices at the appointed time. Instead it ended up being Bob's Wheatear day. You can therefore imagine my relief when the patch turned up virtually no migrants this morning. A handful of Chiffchaff and a single Blackcap, none of them likely new in, and the only sign of actual movement a small number of Meadow Pipit overhead. There is always tomorrow, or more likely given the current weather conditions, a much later date. For instance the 27th... 

James, Tony and I pottered around the Flats for a while, not seeing a great deal. Momentary and possible excitement was caused by three Swans picked up late heading north and away. We all wanted them to be something they probably were not, and the photos are inconclusive. We checked the Park in case they had come down. They had not. I did manage several Little Owls on the Flats, and a Great Crested Grebe in the Park. These two take me to 67 for the year, neither terrible nor outstanding. Fewer than at the equivalent date in 2024, more than in 2023. This means precisely nothing at this early stage, as I've often said, this is a marathon....

One of three Little Owl on Wanstead Flats this morning

Texel

As I am sure that the whole world knows a Spectacled Eider somehow pitched up in Holland back in January. It was big news, a record of extreme bonkersness. How could a bird that doesn't leave the Arctic Circle arrive in Europe? How could a bird that is so difficult to see on its breeding grounds in Alaska and simply impossible to see in winter be bobbing about off a sea wall on Texel? I remarked upon all of this at the time and then put it to the back of my mind. I am not a Western Palearctic twitcher and what is more I was absurdly busy, too busy to drop everything and go to Holland. I proceeded with Plan A. And simultaneously Plans B, C, D & E....

The bird had been present for a month before Bradders called. To be fair he'd floated the idea of a weekend on Texel at the end of January but as I'd said I was out of the game until late February I'd assumed he would have gone already. But he hadn't, and he had also cleverly remembered that my next free weekend was the 22nd February. Was I still free he enquired? Well yes, I was. But I will tell you now that having yet another weekend away was the very last thing I wanted at that particular moment in time. Putting common sense, reason and matrimonial harmony to one side I said yes immediately.

Plans were put into action, ferry tickets were booked, electric vehicle charging locations were pinpointed (a whole new game). After work on Friday I took a train out to Colchester, and from there was electrically chauffeured to Harwich and onto one of the largest ferries I'd ever seen, and what seemed like a few moments later we arrived at the Hook of Holland. I've never slept so well on a boat, the Shetland ferries feel like tubs in comparison. I couldn't even feel the engine vibrations and slept like a baby the whole way across. 

Part of my motivation for coming on this little outing was that my only other Eurotwitch, also to Holland and also with Bradders, had been before eBird. As such I'd had to recreate historical lists based on photographs and blog posts which tend not to feature iconic birds like Dunnocks and Starlings. Returning armed, as it were, would make up for this grave 2016 oversight and as such I was out on deck with the app running as the ship came into dock. I added nothing.

With the required charging break we made it to the Den Helder ferry for the 11.30am sailing and were on Texel for midday. It was a short drive north to the relevant sea wall and shortly afterwards we were watching 'the boy'. When the Spectacled Eider first turned up the scenes from Texel were extraordinary. I was sent a video with no context, all I saw were more birders in one place than I have ever seen before. It turned out to be all of Europe's twitchers descending on Texel on the first available weekend. Bradders and I had played it very cool indeed and consequently we ended up watching it with perhaps six other people. It was reasonably distant so we were unlucky on that front, but through the scope the views were fine. As you can see from my photograph it was possibly slightly out of range for my camera..... It seemed in fine fettle, though, associating with a small flock of Common Eider, diving and preening and generally being very Eider-y. I love it when a plan comes together.

Spectacled Eider

The only slight wrinkle in the plan was the deteriorating weather. It was looking very gloomy indeed, one of those days where dusk arrives at about 2pm and refuses to leave. We made the best of it, birding the flat landscape and enjoying the quite ridiculous numbers of geese - Barnacles, Greater White-fronts, Brents and Greylags. And of course adding to our burgeoning Netherlands life lists with various waders, ducks and passerines. Eventually however we had to admit defeat, the weather was unpleasant and unbirdable, and we decided to leave Texel and head back south. We made a short stop at a canal near the Amstelmeer which had at a minimum 24 Smew in it, itself remarkable given how you rarely see more than one in the UK and that's if you make an effort. A little further south at Alkmaar we then dipped Baikal Teal and Ring-necked Duck. Nevermind, out of the three rare ducks we felt had dipped the correct ones.

The next day the weather was much improved, not yet wonderful, but significantly better. Birdable better. We were staying in Almere and with listing very much in mind headed off to some local woodland to see what we might find. I say listing, what I really meant was cool Woodpeckers that are not found in the UK, namely Middle-spotted and Black Woodpecker. We found both of these at the very lovely Goois Natuurreservaat Spanderswoud along with clouds of Siskin, Brambling and Chaffinch. If you have not seen one let me put it on record that Black Woodpeckers are sensational. For starters they are enormous. And very black. And very loud. Once we had heard it call it did not take us long to track it down. 

The rest of the day was spent alternating between Natuurpark Lelystad and the Oostvaarderplassen. The former hosted an extremely mobile and irritating Pygmy Cormorant, hence the alternating. Not an impressive bird but a very rare one this far west. We eventually got it at our second attempt having missed it by a matter of minutes several times during our first visit. I wonder if one will ever make it as far as the UK?

The latter was an immense gathering of geese and a scattering of eagles. Generally the geese did the gathering and the Eagles took care of the scattering. This was far more satisfying than chasing a small Cormorant around a series of small lakes, mind-bogglingly so actually, with vast numbers of wildfowl and waders. In addition to several White-tailed Eagle we were also treated to a fly-through Goshawk, a Hen Harrier, several Kestrels and a Marsh Harrier. Both wild Swans were present, as well as Spoonbill, and a short distance away were Scaup, Lesser Scaup, Goosander and a Jack Snipe. Excellent birding, and we spent until dusk here before heading back for the Sunday evening sailing to Harwich.

A small fraction of the geese present

So that was the weekend that ideally I would have spent at home. I am glad I went though, winter birding in The Netherlands is fantastic and that is also likely my only chance at Spectacled Eider. And it is only a couple of days, any angst I might have felt at the time is long gone, and I'm largely caught up on almost all of things I postponed. And as you already know I did subsequently manage a day at home the following weekend. Yay! But only after I'd been to France for a day....

Wheatear disappointment

I think I mentioned recently that I blew my chances in the annual Wanstead Wheatear Sweepstake by failing to turn up to choose my dates at the appointed time. That meant I went from first out of the hat to last, with Tony picking me the 12th March after the first pass was complete and the 27th after the second - at that point there being just two days left after 29 had already been picked. You will note that today is the 13th and that there was no "Breaking News" yesterday.... No Wheatears.

The Model Aircraft Field not carpeted in Wheatears

As is de rigeur for such a hotly contested trophy virtually nobody turned up to assist. Jim was out briefly, but not even the lure of the Finder's Trophy could tempt anyone else to look. I was on my own. I gave it my best shot but needless to say I did not find a Wheatear. I wasn't really expecting to - despite some very early arrivals the large numbers have not yet materialised and for Wanstead to get Wheatears everywhere has to be getting Wheatears. I did have a very nice time though, spending a good couple of hours out on the Flats. I ended up seeing a lot of birds - the Chiffchaffs are back in decent numbers and I heard my first Blackcaps singing in the Brick Pits and Esso Copse. 

A nice view of zero Wheatears

At some point during my walk I realised I was approaching 45 species which is not at all shabby for March. This was largely due to an unexpectedly good haul of waterfowl on Jubilee, including Pochard, Gadwall and Little Grebe. I'd been pleased with 42 on my dry run the previous day, could I get to 50? Thoughts of Wheatears all but vanished, the hunt was on for missing species! Knowing the patch as well as I do it was a question of heading to certain spots but there was a fair slice of luck involved as well. I found a Redwing in Esso Copse, a Pied Wagtail was in the car park there, and a pair of Greylag flew towards Alex meaning I didn't have to schlep over there. Just as I was wondering if I might not still fall short a Grey Heron helpfully flew over, and shortly after than I found a Stock Dove pottering around in Coronation Copse. Obviously I know why it's called Coronation Copse, but I also found physical evidence of that which in 20 years of birding here I cannot recall ever having seen before.

The original plaque from 1953

OK so it's not especially impressive and hasn't exactly been lovingly looked after, but it's still there after over 70 years which is amazing when you think about it. You just have to look at other parts of Wanstead Flats to see how the local population treats it - with disdain. Yes there's a bit missing, but it hasn't been burned, chopped up, stolen...

A more recent and much more typical installation.

With Stock Dove under the belt I needed just one more to make the big 5-0. Goldcrest, Sparrowhawk or Collared Dove would do it. Needing to start work in the not too distant future I figured that latter would take the least amount of time and started scanning nearby rooftops as everyone knows that this is where Collared Doves prefer to hang out. It didn't take long for Brading Crescent to come up trumps and I was able to stride home with a feeling of satisfaction despite the lack of lovely white backsides.

Bits and pieces, dribs and drabs

My schedule is finally beginning to free up, I've not yet had a full weekend at home this year. For six weekends I have not been here at all. Mostly (but not entirely) this is all my own fault and I planned it this way several months ago not realising quite how exhausting it would end up being. First there was Morocco, then there was Scotland. Twice. In between these two trips there was the emergency run to the States, and then it was half term in the Peak District. When finally I had a free weekend in late February I inexplicably used it to twitch Texel for the Spectacled Eider. 

I finally had a full day at home last Sunday and it was bliss. The sun was out, the greenhouse was warm, and I busied myself with my plants and the end of the long winter. It's a labourious process, giving each pot a tiny amount of water to accompany the warmth and the light awakening them from their winter slumber, but with cold nights still potentially lethal to wet roots. A fine art, hopefully I have got it right. Once it is warmer still I will add a little boost of fertiliser and the short growing season will begin. It was filthy down there, fungal growth on loads of leaves, and a scale insect problem that will have to wait a few weeks to be properly dealt with. But initial signs are good, most plants seem to have made it and indeed, pestilential insects aside, look in fine fettle.

Of course I can't spend all my time in the greenhouse from now on. There are Wheatears to be found (and other less important migrants). I can feel it in the air, they are on their way. Wheatears are the ones we all want. I was actually first out the hat for the annual sweepstake but at the appointed time to choose our dates I was busy and it slipped my mind. I was bumped to last. Rats. This is not unexpected in 2025. I mean it is good to be busy, but I wish I was less busy. The end is in sight though, and a visible sign of easing is that I've been birding locally. 

Until recently my Wanstead list this year could only be considered as deeply unimpressive. Approaching the end of February I'd managed one visit to Wanstead Flats in early January. That had taken me to 35 species, and my commute to the office through Bush Wood had increased that to 44. 44! Oh dear. I finally got my act in gear on the 25th, going for a walk before work in the Park and the Old Sewage Works. This took me to 58, and then last weekend a bit of sky-watching added both Buzzard and Red Kite between bouts of gardening. A quick visit to the Old Sewage works earlier this week added Kingfisher and Water Rail, and a Chiffchaff on the way to work yesterday took me to 63. A veneer of respectability. A thin veneer.... I have even now gone so far as to scribble a list of targets on a post-it note so things are getting pretty serious. 

Somehow in the same period I've managed to get through six trip reports, including the most recent one to Morocco which I just finished. They're as popular as ever which is a bit of a shame as they take hours. Actually I haven't finished as I suppose I really need to see if I can make something out of Arizona and Texel. I've also spent many hours getting the 2023 London Bird Report done, always a bit of a struggle at this time of the year but my part is once again finished and ready for others to take up the mantle. I could give you a much fuller ticked-off to-do list but that might be even less popular than a trip report. In summary I've done a lot this year and so maybe Elon won't fire me?

Morocco - January 2025 - Trip List

The trip list topped out at 98, try as we might we could not get to 100. For a whole week that seems somehow sub-standard especially as I am likely to see a similar number on a short weekend trip. But as I've mentioned/moaned a few time over the course of this trip report birds were generally in short supply out in the desert. We missed most of the Sandgrouse, and did not make an effort for Desert Sparrow as all the recent reports we could find would have been beyond our vehicle. We couldn't find any Babblers and we were too early for Atlas Wheatear (old Seebohm's). Not having a scope for the larger water bodies probably cost us a few species as well. 

But those birds that we did see, especially the desert species, we saw really well, and as photography was the priority we gave them a lot of time. I came away pretty pleased - I have keepers of about ten species, including four Wheatears. And lets not forget that this is with a camera that I only started using for bird photography at the end of last year. Having now used it quite intensively for a week I am a buyer. It has clear limitations, it is harder to take an off the cuff photograph still. With the Canon my fingers were moving well before I lifted the camera, the Sony requires more thought and thus slows me down. Quite a few shots were missed as I didn't have the right settings, or had flicked a button inadvertently and didn't know how to change it back. Having a zoom rather than a prime is also a bit novel, and in the heat of the action it's entirely possible to discover that you were taking photos at 200mm and not 600mm! But the quality is there, the only limitation is me learning how to get the best from it. Deep down I want an A9 series for the ergonomics, having buttons and dials where I want them, and for a step up in autofocus, but for now my tiny A6600 seems to do just fine. And tiny is what it is and why I bought it - when I pick it up, when I pack it or unpack it, or just stand it up somewhere - the size gets me every time. It is just breathtakingly small and light in comparison to what I used to use. I can carry it all day without really noticing it is there. In short it is great and I hope to become a lot more competent with it this year.

Olympus on the left, Sony on the right

Anyway, Morocco is fantastic and I can't wait to go back. I think March or early April would likely be a good time to go, the only issue is that this trip takes time. It's not a weekend jaunt, the drive out to the real deserts takes an entire day, and it is best to break it up into two. Essentially that means a whole week, multiples of which I don't have at the moment. I am so looking forward to retirement.