The Shetland 35 - 6th September 2026

Saturday the 5th of September dawned with the promise of pleasant sunshine and a much reduced southwest wind, contrary to yesterday. An ideal morning for some local early autumn birding around my local Farmoor Reservoir.Mind you I did not plan for it to be quite so early but there you are. I was up and wandering the reservoir's concrete perimeter at just after 6am.

I had hoped for a passage wader or two but could only muster two Common Sandpipers and a fluster of snow white Little Egrets decimating the shoals of small fish in the shallows of the reservoir, its water levels currently much reduced due to the summer drought.

I transferred my attention to the surrounding vegetation and here there was much activity.The bushes were alive with warblers, mainly juvenile Common Chiffchaffs and Willow Warblers and of which I found at least five of the latter, their bright lemon yellow underparts radiant in the early morning sun.

Willow Warbler

Blackcaps too tack tacked away in the brambles as they gobbled ripened blackberries and best of all no less than five Spotted Flycatchers flung themselves into the sky, chasing insects from the top of a silver birch. It was impossible to ignore the arrival of early autumn and the impending departure of our summer migrants.

I walked the reservoir causeway and met Paul who enquired

Heard about the phalarope?

I had not due to my usual carelessness in checking my local Oxon Bird News. 

Nick M had found a juvenile Red necked Phalarope this morning on a small ornamental lake in the manicured surrounds of Oxfordshire Golf Club which lies just within the county near Thame and is only twenty minutes drive from Farmoor.

I made haste there, calling Simon M who gave me directions. When I got there I was on my own. Not a birder in sight. I could see the lake near the approach road and parking the car in a convenient layby wandered across to it and found this strange wader that spends most of its life far out to sea on the other side of the world, swimming and feeding for all its worth at the furthest end of the lake. I sat on the grass and made free with my camera's memory card and remained on my own until Nick, the finder arrived along with one or two other birders.I watched the phalarope in their company for an hour or so but having seen a different juvenile in Warwickshire only a week ago see here I was at ease and only fired with mild enthusiasm at setting my eyes on this particular individual although this is a scarce species inland in any county let alone Oxfordshire.

Feeling I had enjoyed a good and fulfilling morning's birding by my modest standards I returned home to prepare for the arrival later in the afternoon of Adrian and Mark two of my twitching pals who were intent on photographing the very rare Long tailed Shrike still haunting the hawthorns and brambles of Eastleach Downs, close to my home.

Unbeknown to me a quite incredible, nay sensational birding event was to turn everything upside down

I am a member of a WhatsApp twitching group called Mega Chasers and a Breaking Mega News WhatsApp message appeared on my phone at just before 4pm that had been copied from a message by now retired Roger Riddington in far off Shetland, a former warden of Fair Isle Bird Observatory and former Editor of the magazine British Birds.

He lives at the end of Eastshore Road which skirts round the Pool of Virkie on South Mainland and arrived back home in his car to find an Egyptian Nightjar on his drive which flew around and landed near to the adjacent Ness Boating Club, settling on a beach consisting entirely of large stones and a few much larger boulders, under one of which it took shelter

His message was simple and to the point 

Egyptian Nightjar (no really) Eastshore, Virkie, around the end of the road and my garden

Plan abandoned! Any thoughts of the shrike were consigned to oblivion

 

I rang both Adrian and Mark.

Are we going for it? 

There was no need to ask for what

That was my initial enquiry but we decided that the nightjar was virtually certain not to be there tomorrow. There was no way anyone not local could get to Shetland today to see it as there were no evening flights, so the first opportunity to get to Shetland was tomorrow. 

Nightjars find somewhere to roost in the day and are almost impossible to find unless accidentally flushed.Even if the Egyptian Nightjar stayed overnight there was no guarantee it would be in the same place tomorrow. Common sense suggested that this was going to be one that got away regrettable as that was but since when did such considerations enter the world of twitching and half an hour later rational behaviour was abandoned as it was decided we were going for it after all, egging each other on and as we could not get any flights tomorrow to Shetland, due to them already being fully booked from Glasgow, Edinburgh and Aberdeen we had to settle for taking the only alternative, the Northlink ferry from Aberdeen tomorrow night which would get us to Lerwick at 7am on Monday morning. In my opinion this was pushing our luck to the extreme but we had no choice but the ferry.You could pay £900 to fly from London on Sunday but that was far too expensive even for a mega bird such as this.

An Egyptian Nightjar in Britain is the stuff of legend, right up there with other legendary birds that have visited here years ago but are unlikely to do so in the future such as Houbara Bustard (1962) and Pallas's Sandgrouse (1990).

There are only two previous records of Egyptian Nightjar in Britain, both from years ago

In  1883 one was shot on the 23rd of June by Robert Spinks, a gamekeeper on the Rainsworth Estate near Mansfield in Nottinghamshire.He considered it an aberrant pale European Nightjar and thought no more about it, apparently keeping it for two days before chucking the corpse into his yard. On hearing about this the owner of the estate retrieved the corpse the same day and it was later correctly identified as an Egyptian Nightjar and sent to a taxidermist to be stuffed and mounted and is now in the Mansfield Museum. A commemorative stone  marks the spot where it was shot in Thieves Wood, Rainsworth.

The second record came a hundred and one years later on the 10th of June 1984 when one was seen by a single observer at Portland Bill in Dorset. It was flushed three times from some rough pasture and then despite extensive searching of the area where it was last seen to land, not relocated.

One every hundred years and now a third after 42 years surely explains  why this bird on Shetland was so sensational a find.The find of a lifetime and an occurrence unlikely to be repeated in my lifetime.If we failed to see it at least we could say we did everything possible to see it.

Egyptian Nightjars breed in open desert areas and sandy steppe with scattered trees, bushes, stones and limestone outcrops. I have been fortunate to see a pair in Morocco in 2013 (see below) and never in my wildest fantasies imagined my next encounter with one would be in Britain

A pair of Egyptian Nightjars in the desert near Rissani Morocco March 2013

There are two races of Egyptian Nightjar 

Caprimulgus aegyptus saharae breeds in central and eastern Morocco, northern Algeria, central Tunisia and probably northwest Libya.They winter in sub saharan Africa in the western Sahel

C.a. aegyptus breeds in northeast Egypt and the northern Arabian peninsula, southern Levant, Iraq and east to Turkmenistan. Uzbekistan, east Kazakhstan, western Tajikistan, western Pakistan and southeastern Iran.They winter in sub saharan Africa in the eastern Sahel

The origins of vagrants that have occasionally arrived in Europe such as the bird in Shetland are unknown but are thought to be from the North African race saharae although with another extreme rarity occurrence in the form of the second and third ever records of a Long tailed Shrike in Britain in late summer of this year, a species that normally winters in southeast Asia it could well be an individual of the eastern race aegyptus. Could the extreme heat that has affected large parts of the world this summer have had anything to do with these events I wonder?

We arranged to meet at Mark's house in North Yorkshire mid morning on Sunday. I would drive for four hours from Oxfordshire and Adrian and Les similarly from Essex.We would then all go in Mark's car to Aberdeen to catch the Northlink ferry to Lerwick.We would hold off booking the ferry until the presence of the nightjar had been confirmed or not on Sunday. 

Good. I was dog tired after my exertions this morning and quite stressed by all the ensuing phone calls and logistics of getting to Shetland as quickly as possible which I had to grudgingly accept was probably not going to be quick enough. I went to bed to try and sleep as there would be little opportunity in the days to come

Let's be frank the nightjar looked very unlikely to be at the Pool of Virkie tomorrow. On Saturday after its initial discovery it had roosted, virtually immobile on the rocks at Virkie in true nightjar fashion snd. then at about 8.30 pm it took off, presumably to feed and was lost to view.

I had just gone to bed when Adrian rang.

There has been a change of plan Ewan

There has?

I feared the worst

Yes we need to be at Mark's at 5am now. Mark has found a Loganair flight from Inverness via Kirkwall on Orkney to Sumburgh that is available tomorrow. It leaves Inverness at 1305hrs and arrives Sumburgh at 1455 hours and there is space for all four of us but we need to leave much earlier to get to Inverness in time to make the flight.

The plan is to drive north and as we progress news will come though pretty early on Sunday to confirm if the nightjar is there or not.If it is there then its game on if not we turn back, he added

This strategy would get us to Shetland a day earlier on Sunday afternoon and with a much better chance of seeing the nightjar if it stuck.

I headed off to Mark's house at just after midnight, sleep no longer an option. A Barn Owl drifted across the lane a mile from home which I took as a good omen.We all met at Mark's on schedule and at just before 5am left in Mark's car, driving into the breaking dawn, tired, racked by anxiety and wondering just why we put ourselves through this torture. At just after 6.00am, somewhere well north of Newcastle came news of the nightjar.

I was half asleep as Adrian turned in his front seat and said 

Ewan wake up. The nightjar, it's still there

I could hardly believe it and knew that now we were in with much more than a slim chance

The nightjar was back on the stones at Pool of Virkie where it had been yesterday.Unbelievable! The downbeat mood lifted like a veil.There was no chance of returning to sleep now and energised we chattered excitedly, first exultant and then fearful in case our optimism was premature. There was a lot that could go wrong yet.We had only just begun our odyssey but there was a distinct hope it might now end in success.

 

I will not bore you with details of the six hour car journey north to Inverness but we took the opportunity to use the internet en route to book our seats on the Loganair flight to Sumburgh, book a hotel in Brae in Shetland for Sunday night and hire a car from Bolts at Sumburgh airport.

We were all set.We could do no more and had to hope all would work out according to plan. 

Regular updates came from local birders on Shetland and others who had managed to get earlier flights advising the nightjar was still hunkered down on its rock and unlikely to be going anywhere due to heavy rain.Our chances were looking better and better as each hour passed but even after arriving at Inverness Airport we still would not get to the Pool of Virkie on Shetland for another three hours.

Check in at Inverness Airport was simple and straightforward and we entered the small departure lounge to come across half a dozen fellow twitchers also catching the same flight as us.The usual birder banter ensued but I could not be bothered having had little sleep for the last twenty four hours. I sat staring into nothing and tried to relax.

Our flight was called and we boarded a small turboprop plane in damp windy weather. This was the last leg and it would not be long now.The flight lifted off with a roar and much vibration and we rose above the clouds  heading north for thirty minutes to land in a similarly wet and windy Kirkwall on Orkney.This served to prolong the agony of expectation further and no free Tunnocks Bar or Shortbread biscuits handed out by the flight attendants could compensate

Looking out of the cabin window as we approched Kirkwall  I could not help but reflect as we approached over green fields and an awful lot of sea that this was pretty much the view the Blue- cheeked Bee-eater must have looked down on as it flew over various islands during its prolonged stay in Orkney a few weeks ago see here

Another half hour wait on the ground at Kirkwall did nothing for our equanimity as others boarded the plane.Half an hour more flying. That's all and we would be on Shetland.Would we ever get there?It seemed to take forever but eventually we landed at Sumburgh still in the rain and wind and soon we were collecting our gear while Adrian rushed off to complete the car hire formalities to save time. We were so very near now.

To save time Adrian had collected our hire car from the car park and driven it to right outside the tiny terminal building.We piled our gear into the boot and the four of us set off on the short drive to Pool of Virkie which is but a metaphorical stone's throw from the airport.

We turned off onto the Eastshore Road and drove to the car park by the Ness Boating Club.We could already see around thirty birders obviously looking at the nightjar. We walked up a track, through a metal gate and downhill for a short way in  wet, waterlogged grass to join them. There were two groups of birders, one lot standing in a wet boggy depression, the other group sheltering in and around what looked like the metal remains of a wrecked ship on the sloping stony beach, everyone at a sensible distance from the nightjar, all looking and pointing cameras at one large boulder in particular at the far side of the stones. 

An overall view of what I first encountered on arrival at the nightjar.The finder's house is top left and
the three large boulders are at the far side of the stony area.See the next pic for closer detail.

The Egyptian Nightjar is just about visible as a sandy brown blob under the front of the first large boulder and left of the smaller dark grey rock

Adrian, Les and friends 'enjoying' some Shetland weather

A birder motioned to me to look through his scope and there, halleluja, was my first sight of this almost mythical bird that had been constantly on my mind for the last twenty four or more hours, the Egyptian Nightjar, looking very wet and bedraggled but otherwise very much alive and doing what nightjars do in the daytime which is virtually nothing

It squatted on its rock with eyes closed relying on its sandy brown cryptic plumage and immobility to conceal it although it did not quite work on the predominantly grey stones it had chosen to rest on. 

Occasionally  it would half open an eye but usually kept them firmly closed as if to shut out the grim grey rocks on which it sat and the wind and rain that assailed it and us.Typical Shetland weather, it was not pleasant but slowly it cleared and the nightjar's feathers, blow dried by the increasingly strong southerly wind began to be less saturated and from a sodden lump of feathers took on the typical sandy grey appearance of its species.

The Egyptian Nightjar enjoying a brief sunny spell when it looked very different
c  Adrian  Webb

We stood with our fellow twitchers and enjoyed the sweet feeling of success.The nightjar to be frank did not do a lot.Occasionally it would move slightly, turning to face the wind and eventually shuffled behind a large rock, to shelter it from the worst of the strong wind and rain. The main objective for Mark, Adrian and myself was to get an image of it with its eyes open or at least partially, although I was quite content to just see it and get any image I could, eyes open or otherwise.

A shout from a fellow birder put us onto a pleasant surprise in the form of a juvenile Red backed Shrike using a distant  garden wall as both a windbreak and somewhere from which to hunt.

Frankly there is only so much one can do to remain enthusiastic about a bird that despite its enormous rarity is virtually static. Combine this with what I call typical Shetland weather consisting of rain and strong wind, having had no sleep for over twenty four hours and hardly anything to eat, it is unsurprising I struggled to feel that usual surge of adrenalin that arrives in situations such as this.I had to face the fact I was totally and utterly exhausted both mentally and physically.

Never mind, the rejoicing would come later and we remained with the bird for another hour before heading off into Lerwick to our favourite curry restaurant, the Nepalese Gurkha Kitchen which as usual did us proud. An infusion of Cobra beer and a biriani  soon brought me back to life and I regained the capacity to savour and rejoice at the momentous event we had just been an integral part of.

After a good night's sleep and the luxury of a hot shower in The Brae Hotel I knew that tomorrow I would feel even more elated especially if the nightjar came back to its stony beach for one more day and of which we felt there was every chance. Paul, one of our fellow twitchers was flying from Norwich to Shetland via Edinburgh first thing tomorrow morning and we arranged to collect him from Sumburgh airport at 8.30 am and take him to see the nightjar. Many other birders were on the Northlink ferry from Aberdeen that had left last night and we had to hope they too would not be disappointed. It was estimated that only thirty five off islanders including ourselves had seen the nightjar today before it flew off west at around 8.30pm.

Morning came and as often is the case on Shetland the weather was the complete opposite of yesterday, greeting us with sun and a light wind. We went down for breakfast at 7am but sadly there was negative news about the nightjar. Despite an extensive search of the beach it had favoured for the last day and a half there was no sign of it. There was still a slim hope it might be refound but to all extents and purposes it was gone.We reflected how fortunate we had been but were sad that Paul had travelled all this way only to fail as had all the birders that had arrived in Lerwick on the Northlink ferry this morning at just about the same time as the bad news came about the nightjar

We duly collected  Paul from the airport and as a gesture of sympathy suggested we check a similar area of stones and rocks beside Grutness Voe which lies on the other side of the airport and is where the Good Shepherd docks on its regular trips to and from Fair Isle. 

The Good Shepherd arriving at Grutness from Fair Isle with Sumburgh Airport in the background

It was a straw in the wind gesture but we had to do something for Paul. Predictably there was no trace of the nightjar just a few Northern Wheatears, flashing black and white tails amongst the rocks and a couple of sparring Merlins that disappeared as rapidly as they arrived. We gave it an hour and then, running out of options came to a natural hiatus.For want of anything better Mark and myself walked a short way back along the road to check a well known migrant hotspot, a private garden you could look down and over that  lies beside the road leading to Sumburgh Head.This garden has hosted any number of common migrants and rarities over the years so was worth a look, not for the nightjar but for small passerines..By now it had been accepted by one and all there was no chance of finding the nightjar.

We wandered round to the garden and looked over the wall to the sycamores that stand against the far wall. Sadly there appeared to be nothing there apart from chattering House Sparrows.I stood for half an hour leaning on the wall and saw nothing but from experience I knew that on Shetland you never quite give up and often it bears results if you are patient.

A small warbler flew at high speed across a gap in the sycamores.No more than a bried flicker really but checking the tops of the sycamores where it had flown, there it  was right at the top examining the underside of a large sycamore leaf. Chiffchaff? Willow Warbler? It looked very bright and clean, dull moss green above and almost white below with a strong face pattern and I was convinced I saw a wing bar.

I called to the others

I think I have got a Greenish Warbler. In fact I am pretty certain

Adrian, Mark and Paul joined me and over the ensuing thirty minutes we gained regular but brief views of the warbler, enough to establish my identification as correct and then as if to set the seal on matters, the warbler commenced calling. Adrian also managed to get a photo of it (see below).

c Adrian Webb

Once the warbler had been seen well on a number of occasions and all the salient features of a Greenish Warbler were established beyond reasonable doubt we put the news out on the Shetland Scarce Birds WhatsApp group and Birdguides.

With so many disappointed birders in the close vicinity, still hoping for a miracle it was not long before quite a crowd gathered at the garden.I counted at least forty birders come to make the best of it and see a Greenish Warbler. Better that than nothing at all was the general concensus

We left them to it and went on an abortive search for a Pallid Harrier at Brow Loch and then on a perfect afternoon of sunshine and Shetland looking at its best it was time to drop Paul back at the airport for his return flight home, all of us really sad that he had not seen the nightjar. 

We in turn headed for the Northlink Terminal in Lerwick, left the hire car at the designated drop off point and boarded the MV Hjaltland for the twelve hour overnight journey back to Aberdeen. It was a strange atmosphere as so many birders on board had dipped the nightjar but we are a resilient lot and those who had failed would get over the disappointment.We have all been there and I could only sympathise with them.

A short seawatch from the back of the vessel while moored in the harbour revealed a good bird for Shetland in the form of a male Velvet Scoter amongst a flotilla of Eiders and I also added Great and Arctic Skua to my trip list. 

  

On retiring to our cabin later that evening I got little sleep as there was a rough sea and swell particularly between Lerwick and Kirkwall and the ship was tossing and rolling as it battled the waves.The night was long but eventually the ordeal was over and somewhat bleary we had breakfast on the ship before docking and then disembarked to walk a short distance to Aberdeen railway station and purchase tickets to Inverness Airport. Arriving an hour and a half later, Adrian and Mark went to collect Mark's car from the long term car park while Les and myself guarded all our gear at the station

It was raining quite hard now but it was impossible to feel downcast.Tired, wet and dishevelled we still remained upbeat after our spectacular success with the nightjar. and me especially, having achieved a self found in the form of a Greenish Warbler.

As we were in Inverness and with Aviemore just down the road, Mark suggested we take the opportunity to see some Crested Tits near Boat of Garten which was on our route home.

An hour later we were walking a trail through heather and pines in search of the tits.We found a feeding station in the woods and soon were enjoying regular visits from two or more Crested Tits along with the customary host of Coal Tits and a bonus Tree Creeper

We stayed for an hour testing our camera skills against the rapid, erratic movements of the Crested Tits but the rain began to set in and we were getting increasingly wet, soggy and cold. It was time to say farewell to Scotland, the scent of heather and pine and set a course south for North Yorkshire, six hours driving away.

Adrian and Les were going to stay at Mark's house for the night but not fancying a night on Mark's floor I opted to drive home that night arriving at 2.30 in  the morning.

The last thought I had before blessed sleep enveloped me was of the Egyptian Nightjar.

Was it only three days ago.

A Red necked Phalarope in The Midlands 31st August 2026

Bank Holiday Monday 7am.

Mrs U was going to London to meet a friend so the day was mine to do with as I wished.

I lay in bed considering my options There was still the Long tailed Shrike nearby at Eastleach but I had already been nineteen times and fancied something different. My local Farmoor Res maybe? But no that would be very busy, it being a public holiday.

I had noticed that for the past two days a juvenile Red necked Phalarope had taken up temporary residence on an inland lake going by the name of Bodymoor Heath Water that was part of Kingsbury Water Park, which is in the West Midlands.Always a good bird to see and as they invariably are, very confiding and reported to be giving exceptionally close views, this ticked the box for today's birding.

But would it still be there today? I decided to await news on my Birdguides app which duly arrived at 0842, telling me it was still there and it would take an hour and twenty minutes drive to get to the site. 

Weather is always a consideration when birding and consulting my Met Office app it looked uninviting with rain predicted from 10am onwards but the forecast has been decidedly unreliable lately so I decided to take a chance. Currently it was sunny and the southwest wind was soft and mild.

I suppose a Bank Holiday is not the best time to venture onto our roads and especially motorways but it was not a long journey by twitching standards and if I left fairly promptly I would probably miss the worst of the traffic.Coming back might be a problem but I could deal with that when the time came

I duly left home for Kingsbury at 9am, crossing part of the Cotswolds and stopping for a coffee at my local cafe, The Mill in Chipping Norton. An infusion of caffeine set me up nicely for the journey and as hoped there was comparatively little traffic to hinder my progress across Warwickshire to join the M40 and head north for Kingsbury.

An hour later I turned off the M42 and following a few minor roads arrived at the Water Park to discover it was,for today at least highly popular with a number of pay and display car parks already almost full and people setting up tables and chairs around camper vans preparing for a day out. Hardly surprising. It was a Bank Holiday after all.

Uncertainly I followed a narrow winding road past all the cars and people, not quite sure if this was a wide footpath or road, judging by the number of people wandering along it and was very relieved to find it led to a small, almost empty car park adjacent to a sailing club and right beside a large lake.Not quite sure if I was in the right place I was re-assured to note the presence of birders armed with cameras and scopes. I drew up to park in front of a small gap in the lakeside trees and an enquiry of one of the birders confirmed that I was in the right place and the lake before me was the one with the phalarope.

I made a short walk back to a pay and display machine for my £5.00 all day parking ticket and returned to get my camera and bins from the car. Another birder standing at the gap in the trees pointed to the water and there, very close to the bank was the tiny wader I had come to see.

A Swallow photobombing the phalarope

It was as straightforward as that. In typical phalarope fashion it was energetically swimming  back and fore picking small items of food from the water. I had forgotten just how small they are, even smaller than a Grey Phalarope, which are the more usual phalarope species to be found in situations such as this. 

A juvenile, it was so young it still retained buff on its white neck. Its upperparts were dark brown. the feathers liberally marked with straw coloured edgings creating a neat pattern of stripes. Otherwise it was predominantly white, on both head and underbody, its eye underlined with a mascara like broad band of black curving across the side of its head and a cap of mottled dark brown.

It swam with a nodding head, Moorhen style, ceaselessly picking at the water searching for food.

Any concerns about it being distant were now long since dispelled as I watched it from just metres away and determined to make the most of this opportunity..

There were two small gaps in the lakeside trees in front of the car park, which fortuitously it spent most of its time swimming in front of but occasionally it would swim out of sight behind the trees. I noted that a small detour would bring me to a more open area of waste ground at the edge of the lake and give an unobstructed view from a concrete edge of sorts and this area, normally out of bounds had apparently been opened up especially for birders coming to see the phalarope so I adjourned there

This allowed even closer views of the mite and at various points it was no further than eight feet from me, totally unafraid. 

A fellow birder demonstrating how close the phalarope would come

I paused to consider this bird's situation which one could only marvel at.Normally migrating at sea, presumably it had been blown inland and in a hostile abnormal environment found the nearest thing to normality for a phalarope  to be this large lake, the margins of which would not be too dissimilar to  the small pool where it had been born and raised, possibly in The Hebrides on the west coast of Scotland or in Shetland, maybe even further north in the arctic regions of Scandinavia

If it was a bird from Scotland. its ultimate destination is almost inconceivable. From here it would make its way overland to the sea and then head out across the Atlantic Ocean to the eastern seaboard of the USA and then fly south, crossing the Caribbean and Mexico to reach the Pacific Ocean and spend the winter off Ecuador and Peru with Red necked Phalaropes from North America. This was all revealed by fitting a tracker to a phalarope from Fetlar, an island in Shetland, and giving rise to the supposition that the birds breeding i,n Shetland were derived from a North American population rather than the geographically closer Scandinavian populations 

It is totally astonishing that this tiny bird, slightly smaller than a Starling can make such a journey.Or maybe if it was a Scandinavian bird would head for its normal winter quarters which are thought to be the Arabian Sea. There was no way of knowing but either destination is surely cause for sheer wonder and admiration.

For the next hour I indulged myself and settled to enjoy the experience with no more than half a dozen other birders. 

The lake also had another pleasant surprise in the form of an adult Little Gull that was flying around the lake elegantly dipping down to pick flies from its surface. Its plumage was worn, especially the flight feathers and I noticed it carried a tracker attached to its back. Little Gulls also winter at sea so  I wonder if this and the phalarope got caught up in the same weather system that delivered them to this unlikely inland location.

The predicted rain failed to appear but instead the general greyness was punctuated by occasional warm sunny spells coming from a sun emerging periodically from a sky of mashed potato like white clouds. 

Fortunate to be away from the main concentration of public in this very popular park we enjoyed  our communion with the phalarope and after taking far too many images I relaxed and just watched this tiny bird, its presence so incongruous on an unremarkable lake in the heart of England and so far from its normal home out on the trackless wastes of either of two huge oceans

Even now nature's creations and fellow inhabitants of a world we seem set on destroying can cause one to stop, marvel and look on in awe and wonder.

Birds are our place-makers,

memory keepers,calendars and

clocks.They stitch the world

together:earth to sky,river to

woodland, mountain to sea,

country to country,hemisphere

to hemisphere

Robert Macfarlane