The Long tailed Shrike at Crail in Fife 5th July 2026

c Adrian Webb

Only one Long tailed Shrike has been discovered in Britain.

Ever  

And that was all of twenty six years ago when one was at Howbeg and Howmore on South Uist which is in the Outer Hebrides.It was seen on the 3rd and 4th of November 2000 but had possibly been present since the 27th of October.

The record is famous not only for the discovery of this ultra rare visitor to Britain but infamous for the near disaster that overtook a tiny charter boat of a dozen twitchers heading for South Uist to see it. At sea the boat's engine failed and it began drifting towards cliffs and required a Mayday call which precipitated a full on emergency rescue involving a lifeboat, the coastguard helicopter and a Swedish oil tanker. This but one example of the legendary occurrences that seem to go hand in hand with an extreme activity such as twitching rare birds.

The Long tailed Shrike on South Uist was thought to be of the race Lanius schach erythronotous which breeds in Afghanistan, Kazakhstan, southern Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan,Tajikistan and northeast Iran to northern India. It is a partial migrant - northern populations migrate to winter in the Indian sub continent, sometimes being found as a vagrant in the Middle East and Arabia.

The bird on South Uist occurred during a time of exceptional eastern shrike vagrants arriving in Britain with Brown, Southern (Steppe) Grey and Isabelline Shrikes all found in Britain, Ireland and elsewhere in Europe which undoubtedly helped with the record being accepted. It was however considered highly unlikely that another Long tailed Shrike would make it to Britain

Fast forward to the 5th of July 2026 and Sunday lunchtime. My birding pal Mark P sent me a text

You going to Fife?

This could only mean one thing

I checked my Birdguides app and there it was.

 A mega alert.  Long tailed Shrike, Crail, Fife

An adult type had been found in a garden in the midst of farmland along a track leading to a place called Thirdpart House near Crail.

I was immediately consumed by the usual tangle of emotions that unerringly arrive with such news. Anxiety, excitement, anticipation even mild panic are all in the mix.

I wavered over my options

Crail was 497km north of my home in  West Oxfordshire and would take just over 7 hours of driving to get to.If I left immediately I could get to Crail at around 8pm. Enough time to see the bird before dark.

I called Mark P but he was not interested in coming

I rang Mark R my longtime twitching buddy who now lives in North Yorkshire, thinking I could meet him and we could go on to Scotland together but he was already preparing to leave with two friends from Middlesbrough so no luck there

Start driving!  he advised and hung up

It had to be done. 

I was on my own on this one

Go and go now an inner demon told me

My wife returned from  having lunch with a friend and I  informed her I was going to Crail.Well used to such announcements she wished me luck and I set off. A few miles down the road I had second thoughts as ambiguous messages came suggesting that the shrike might not be a Long tailed Shrike after all and it had not been seen for over an hour and a half since first discovered.

I dithered and discussed it with Adam, another Oxfordshire birding friend and decided to abandon the trip. Not feeling great due to a painful hip, in all honesty I did not relish testing my pain threshold by driving for seven hours with no one else to help with the driving or to give me moral support.

Let's face  it I was looking for any excuse to abort the trip but there was no escaping the fact that it was a Long tailed Shrike and I would be unlikely to ever get such an opportunity again.

Most of my other twitching pals on our WhatsApp Group were all posting they were heading off later tonight to Crail. I decided I would do likewise having in the interim negotiated the emotional rapids that came with the initial news of the shrike and subsequently entering calmer waters in my mind. I  stocked up on pain killers and had to hope for the best.

Mark R posted on our WhatsApp group that he had seen the shrike

The plan now was to leave my home at around midnight which would get me to Crail at around 0800 on Monday morning. In fact I left my home at 2300hrs after watching Norway beat Brazil in the World Cup, a result which I took much pleasure in and considered a good omen.Once sat in the car my hip left me in relative peace and I headed off into the night, crossing Oxfordshire and Warwickshire to join the M40 and then the M6 motorways with remarkably little traffic, presumably as everyone was waiting in anticipation to watch the England v Mexico World Cup match that was scheduled to commence with much fanfare at 1am

I tuned into Radio Five Live and learned it was raining with thunder and lightening in Mexico City and the match was delayed for an hour or more. I listened to a stream of blather and verbal garbage as commentators tried to fill the downtime and in the end it got so bad I turned the radio off.

I made a stop at Keele Services and found on leaving the car that I could hardly stand due to my hip but after a minute the pain eased and I managed to stagger in to get a virtually undrinkable coffee from a vending machine.I should have known better. I felt pretty low at this point but was now fully committed and there was no turning back.

Back onto the motorway and into the night, I turned on the radio and listened as I drove those weary miles  north while England embarked on a match that was both thrilling and anxiety racked in equal measure and made me forget all about my hip, the shrike and any worries it mght not be there in the coming dawn. An epic last twenty minutes commenced as ten men withstood Mexico and Engerland were through to the quarter finals. Even being Scots I could only congratulate the team on such fortitude and resilience.

Dawn came at around 4am as I passed Tebay, high in the Cumbrian Fells and then descended onwards to Carlisle, crossing The Solway and circumventing Glasgow, heading east to Edinburgh and over the Forth Road Bridge into Fife and onwards towards Crail.

I stopped at garage in Leven to refuel the car and to check my Birdguides app. 

It was 5.30am and I found only one entry.

Long Tailed Shrike  Crail Fife 0504

It was still there! 

I changed into walking boots on the deserted garage forecourt and donned a jumper and waterproof jacket as the weather was very different to when I had set off from my home. No warmth here but grey cloud and a chilly strong wind with even rain threatening.

I followed the road east, wending my way through endless villages, all now restricted to 20mph, not that I could have gone any faster, being stuck as I was behind a huge lorry.Finally it turned off and I continued onwards towards Crail, now driving in an open landscape of huge agricultural fields and with the mouth of the mighty Firth of Forth off to my right

The on site instructions from Birdguides had mentioned something about parking in a field by Barnsmuir Farmshop at Crail  and then to follow an obvious track for 2kms to where the shrike was but I had no idea where this was although it must be nearby. As I approached Crail, to my left  I could see a field with many cars parked in it and what looked like a birder wandering around.

This must surely be the place and I turned off onto a dirt track and  immediately the birder, also acting as a parking attendant so presumably local, waved to me and indicated where I should park alongside the other vehicles behind the farmshop.

It was pure joy to leave the car and to compound my delight who was standimg there by the car next to mine but Adrian, one of my twitching pals who had also just arrived, having driven from his home in Essex and like me through the night.

We got our gear together and my hip for once felt relatively pain free. I decided that carrying a camera, lens, heavy telescope and tripod for two kms would be tempting fate with my temperamental  hip so opted to leave the scope in the car which turned out to be a major error of judgement on my part

We now embarked on the two km walk to the site, walking along a dirt track that arrived at a parked car where a friendly local with a bucket for donations gave us further instructions on where to go, involving following the track further left between the fields and then around some farm buildings to another field of barley that we could look across to a mature hedgerow on the far side that the shrike favoured.

The distant hedge favoured by the shrike

Walking out to the site we were taken by the number of Corn Buntings, Reed Buntings and Yellowhammers singing along the farmland's  field edges as we passed. We were told by the local birder in the temporary car park that there was an impressive population of Corn Buntings, over a hundred territories I think he said, in these parts.

The commencement of the 2km walk

Passing returning birders who had already seen the shrike we enquired if it was showing well but were told not really and it was being seen only fleetingly although reasonably regularly.

Rounding the farm buildings we came across around fifty or so birders lined up alongside the barley field on a narrow grass verge and looking out and over the crop to the hedgerow beyond.It was a tight squeeze to stand on the narrow edge as it was guarded by a very deep ditch behind you, completely hidden by overhanging vegetation. One step backwards and down you would go as several people inadvertently demonstrated, fortunately without incurring serious injury.

The shrike had been reported yesterday as being 'mobile and elusive' and on our arrival at the field we were told that it had not been seen for around forty minutes but was somewhere in the hedge which was a little too distant for my camera and lens combo hence there would be no photos but Adrian with his much bigger lens could help out with that.

The strong wind did us no favours either as it meant the shrike was perching low down in the bottom of the hedge out of the wind and consequently was extremely hard to see. We waited for quite a long time with little happening. The tension inevitably increased.  

Then a nearby birder who had already seen the  shrike earlier announced he had it in his scope and invited us to look through it to see the shrike as both Adrian and myself had never seen one in Britain. 

The views were not great as the shrike was much obscured by wildly shaking leaves and thin branches due to the wind but there you are. Take it or leave it. This was the best we would get for now. It was our choice. I had no hesitation and got my first, if slightly underwhelming views of this major British rarity.

My second view of the shrike was as it flew along the outside of the hedge only to disappear into the foliage. I needed more than these two brief views to feel fulfilled.

The distance we were required to stand from the hedge meant that only the guys with huge lenses or telescopes could see the shrike in any detail  whenever it appeared  which was not that often and even when it did only remained on view for around a couple of minutes.  

I decided to go and get my scope from the car and on passing  the man with the bucket gave him a fiver as a donation. He told me the farmer who owned the land was recovering from prostate cancer and the money would go to research into prostate cancer. On getting back to the field I was informed by Adrian that the shrike had been showing really well and frequently in my absence.

Refusing to rise to the bait I erected my scope and tripod and less than a minute afterwards found it all by myself  in the bushes, perched in an open gap.As the early morning wore on the shrike became more active,beginning to perch higher in the bushes and more often in the open.As a result  I gained several more than acceptable extended views of it in my scope, both front and back as it moved about on its various perches. It remained ever faithful to the hedge and certain parts of the hedge seemed to be more favoured than others and to which it would return on a regular basis.

I watched it for around forty minutes as it moved back and fore along the hedge, perching as it sized up its next meal, its head moving rapidly as it followed the flights of passing insects. It was a male (subsequently identified as a first summer male) and thus reasonably colourful with a long dark tail, distinct grey crown, nape and upper mantle, black face mask,  whitish underparts and an orange wash to its flanks. Its upperparts and rump were a similar orange brown, contrasting with blackish brown wings and tail.

The local Yellowhammers and Tree Sparrows were none to happy about its presence, mobbing it from a safe distance but the shrike ignored  them apart  from briefly chasing after a male Yellowhammer.

Families of Swallows swooped low over the field in front of us, constantly passing to and fro, twisting and turning to seize insects flying above the heads of ripening barley, the adults markedly more agile than their newly fledged young.

The shrike flew to a large tree and hopped about in the centre. 

One more view and then I think I am on my way. I told Adrian

I had thought to stay overnight but resolved to drive back home the same day and after some breakfast in nearby Anstruther I headed for home around 11am. 

The drive required several stops for coffee and to sleep briefly where I could  and at eight that evening I was back at my home in Oxfordshire.

Postscript 

In a year where we had been bemoaning the paucity of 'good' birds not one but two absolute megas have hit our shores in what is traditionally considered a quiet time of year for birding. 

A Western Reef Egret  in Wales in June. The first for Britain

A Long tailed Shrike in Scotland in July. The second for Britain

My British List has now moved to 543

All photos on this blog are courtesy of Adrian Webb and as always with my grateful thanks

l 

Birding Ups and Downs - 1st July 2026

I indulged myself with a morning up on Aston Upthorpe Downs above Blewbury, wandering with no particular purpose other than to enjoy the sense of peace and space that this area always imparts.Once past the racing stables I followed the permissive path, no more than a chalky track really, undulating away in a straight line between straggling hawthorns, towards the distant Ridgeway.

Butterflies were here in profusion, fussing over the many cerise pink heads of  Greater Knapweed. Marbled Whites, Painted Ladys, Red Admirals and Meadow Browns were all feasting on the nectar rich flowers along with my first Gatekeepers of the year and most surprising of all a Hummingbird Hawkmoth.

At the end of the track I came across a family of Corn Buntings, the parents mildly agitated by my intrusion into their isolated domain,  perching in the tops of hawthorns and calling their simple chizz alarm note.

Turning to leave the buntings in peace, from afar in a vast field of barley came a distinctive call. Just once and then silence. Had I imagined it?

I stood and waited. Five, ten minutes passed and then there it was again, a long way off but unmistakeable, the whip like 'wet my lips' call of a Quail, a summer migrant that arrives in variable numbers, some years being good, others not so.This year is an exceptionally good one although they are never present in large numbers, so it was nice to hear this individual, bringing me a sense of discovery of this very secretive bird that you rarely get to see but rather only hear. It called three times and then fell silent and I never heard it call again so considered myself very fortunate.

There was no chance of seeing such a tiny terrestrial ,bird hidden in a field of inaccessible barley. The only Quail I have seen in Oxfordshire took forever to locate, even though at one point it was calling literally at my feet. It flew only when I  was about to unwittingly step on it and in true game bird fashion erupted from its hiding place and flew off on surprisingly long wings, never to be seen again. 

I got a text from Phil who was at Farmoor Reservoir, telling me that he had seen a Black tailed Godwit on the causeway earlier this morning and sent me an image taken  on his i phone showing it was an adult in summer plumage and judging by how close he had got to it, really confiding. He added that when he had left it was still present amongst a gathering of Coot and Greylags that were sunning themselves on the concrete apron at the water's edge .

I cursed my luck as I had over a mile to walk back to my car parked at the stables and then a half hour drive to get to the reservoir but such an opportunity was too much to resist and taking a huge chance I decided to go for it knowing full well that there was every chance the godwit would have flown off by the time I got there.

The reservoir was surprisingly quiet for such a pleasant day which I took as a good sign. Phil had told me the godwit was at the 'wrong end' of the causeway i.e the furthest from the car park so I headed for the far end of a deserted causeway and at first it appeared my fears were to be confirmed as I could see little sign of the godwit but then in a gap amongst the many Coots and geese, there stood the godwit looking thoroughly relaxed, taking its ease on the concrete shore.

It was an adult in full summer plumage which it will soon moult into a much duller greyish brown winter plumage. 

Black tailed Godwits are a scarce passage migrant to the reservoir, recorded annually at the peak migration times of April to May and July to August, usually as single individuals.This adult being so confiding was truly exceptional and being in summer plumage was a heaven sent opportunity to 'fill my boots' camera wise.

There are two races of Black tailed Godwits found in Britain. By far the most numerous is the race Limosa limosa islandica which spends the winter here and also in southern Europe as far south as The Mediterranean but migrates to breed almost exclusively in Iceland.The other race is Limosa limosa limosa of which approximately fifty pairs breed in eastern England, the majority breeding in France, The Netherlands and Denmark and wintering in Spain, Portugal and Morocco, even sometimes south of the Sahara.

By examining the breeding plumage one can identify the two races and judging by the extent and breadth of barring on the flanks and belly and amount of chestnut orange on the Farmoor bird it was of the race islandica, which was to be expected.

They are for me a supremely elegant bird, tall with a pleasing symmetry, their long legs balanced if you will by the counterpoint of a long bill. I am no expert but judging by the extent of chestnut orange on its breast and flanks this individual was a male. Females tend to show paler and less extensive colouring on the breast and seldom on the flanks.

Sitting on the wall of the causeway in a moment of whimsy I wondered from whence this bird had arrived. It seemed for the most part disinterested in feeding but more content to just loaf and indeed went to sleep in the sun,lifting one leg and pushing its bill into the feathers on its back.

Was it tired after a long flight from Iceland and indulging in a spot of R and R as it crossed middle England, perchance on its way to the south coast or beyond to prepare for winter.

We will never know. 

More of the Purple Persuasion - 27th June 2026

Today I made my third visit to Bernwood Forest hoping for yet more encounters with HIM (His Imperial Majesty) and to assuage my obsessive tendencies. This year is promising to be a good one for this magnificent butterfly at Bernwood and I encountered no less than five males during a pleasant morning in the forest. Rather than write yet more about this charismatic insect I will spare you and let some images taken on the day do the talking.

Now you see it

Now you don't - the purple that is!

An image to show how effective a camouflage is the Emperor's underwing patterning.
Can you see HIM?

Not so obvious with wings closed

A Red Admiral (top right) photobombing my image of HIM (bottom left)

Only at certain angles is the purple iridescence revealed

Returning to the car park I found HIM on my car's
rear tyre.A not uncommon occurrence at Bernwood 

The Emperor in the car park was determined
to settle on anyone in the car park to imbibe
salt from the sweat on our arms and legs and 
would not take no for an answer!

I decided to try my hand at an atmospheric shot for a change! This was taken in the car park at the
end of a long, hot but exhilerating morning. 

A Shady Experience - 25th June 2026

I returned to Bernwood Forest today in search of another encounter with the majestic Purple Emperors that are now on the wing and will remain so for another five short weeks in the forest. 

As is my custom I parked in the discrete little car park that grants access to Bernwood Meadows well away from the main car park that is forever busy with arriving and departing cars bringing dog walkers and families to walk the main track and various side trails through the trees. Purple Emperors do come down from the trees in both the car park and on the main track but it is rare that they remain for long due to the constant human traffic passing back and fore. An extended audience with His Excellency is one that demands due reverence and respect and that is impossible under such circumstances

As usual the postage stamp sized parking space by the meadows, its unsuspected  entrance  concealed by overhanging blackthorn, was deserted and I took to the 'unimproved' meadows through a metal gate, entering a world that must have been commonplace to my ancestors but now has retreated to reserves such as this. A living, tangible reminder of what we have lost. I stood as I always do to assimilate this joyous panorama of wild flowers for as far as my eyes could see, the whole area bordered by the dark green of blackthorn and beyond the oaks of the forest

And not just flowers but butterflies too were here in their hundreds, Marbled Whites mainly, in endless motion, their chequered black and white wings flickering through the flowers and grass.At one point I was enveloped by a cloud of butterflies rising from the grass as I passed by, an almost unique experience these days as our butterflies become ever more scarce, inexorably declining for reasons both unavoidable and avoidable.

A gentle breeze blew from the east, already warm and for now the morning was bearable but it was going to be very hot later, uncomfortably so. My plan was to walk round the meadow and via another gate that gives access to my favourite ride at.the edge of the forest, stand there in the shade of the oaks and out of the worst of the sun. . 

I stood and waited but there was no sign of an Emperor. Unsurprising as it is never that easy with such a capricious personality. No matter, it was hardly unpleasant standing in the cool shade of the oaks as Silver washed Fritillarys came bustling, one by one, along the ride, occasionally stopping to refuel on  bramble flowers before resuming their frenetic progress.Tiny, ginger, pugnacious Large Skippers zipped around, almost at ground level and countless Meadow Browns and Ringlets, jinked and dithered in the grass.

A morning so alive with abundant life it was sheer bliss to be amongst it.

But the star turn was now required to make the morning complete. Where was he? Would he turn up?You never know but here, on this ride and in this forest provided as good a chance as any of encountering him.

Matthew Oates who probably knows more about Purple Emperors than anyone is of the opinion that it is only fresh males, one to four days old, that come down to feed and after that they retreat to feed on sap runs in the trees. I remained optimistic, an essential prerequisite for the task I had set myself.

Ten minutes later at 11am I found an Emperor on the ground, feeding. Most royalty in our human world, if you look underneath the contrived veil of pomp and circumstance seem to have dark and hidden, unsavoury secrets and butterfly royalty is no exception. The Emperor despite all his magnificence and presence was astride that which issues from the wrong end of a dog, tucking in with gusto to the minerals contained in the excresence. Such a paradox.

No photo then  as I just could not bring myself to take one as he remained in wrapt concentration sucking up minerals from the unmentionable through his lemon yellow proboscis.

I lingered, admiring his underwing patterning and trying to blot out the image of that on which he was firmly ensconced. Eventually, disturbed by a bothersome fly, in irritation he flew but no more than inches from the ground, circling the sun baked bare earth a couple of times before rising and coming to rest, less than four feet up on a shaded blackthorn leaf by the ride.

He appeared to shut down, sliding his upperwings under his lower wings, partially concealing the conspicuous eye on the upperwing. I looked at my phone, it was 1120 and the temperature was 29c. I could withstand the heat for only a few more minutes and then had to seek the sanctuary of the shade as had  the Emperor. I stood on one side of the ride and he dozed on the other. Both of us sharing very different worlds.

I resolved to wait and see and fifteen minutes later he stirred and began to wander on his leaf, extending his yellow proboscis and showing renewed interest in his surroundings. 

Then as he became more active, slowly opened his wings to reveal that celebrated purplish blue iridescence  and then just as abruptly closed them as if  bringing a shutter down. It is so hard to describe the iridescence that transforms their wings. Matthew Oates states .... 'depending on the angle of view and the angle of the light, a single flick of his wings can take the observer through a spectrum from dense black through Tyrian purple, royal blue and several hues of turquoise and back'.....

And so it was here. He flexed his wings again and this time slowly spread them further, spanning them flat across the leaf in its dappled shade and there, revealed  was the coveted double purple iridescence on both wings. The ultimate gift to all Emperor afficionados.

His yellow proboscis continued its exploration of the leaf, then with a flick of wings he descended to the ground, describing a brief circle before settling and striding across the hard earth towards his unappealing food source.

Another feeding session commenced although not so long as the first, before he flew up to perch low on another blackthorn leaf, this time on the opposite side of the ride and again deep in shade.

And here he remained for quite some time before flying down towards the ground but although showing a passing interest in his food source, only circled it low over the ground and then ascended into a nearby oak and that was the audience done and dusted..

It was five minutes past noon and the sun's heat, now in the mid thirties, was ferocious.I retreated to the interior of the forest where the shade and a relative coolness brought some relief..