An Eastern Bonelli's Warbler at Easington - 7th November 2026

c Tom Hines

In 1997 Bonelli's Warbler was split into two species, Western and Eastern Bonelli's Warbler of which the former was much the more frequent in Britain. To date there have been 191 accepted records of Western Bonelli's Warbler (WBW) compared to only 11 accepted records of Eastern Bonelli's Warbler (EBW) with an additional 93 individuals unspecified as to species.

Personally I have seen five of the Western Bonelli's Warblers, two of which I saw on Shetland this autumn but I have never seen an Eastern Bonelli's Warbler so was naturally very keen on checking out a bird thought to be an Eastern Bonelli's Warbler that had been found at Easington in East Yorkshire.

In the field the two species appear almost identical and the main criteria for distinguishing them is by their diagnostic calls - a  hard sharp chip note, a bit like a sparrow in the case of Eastern and a disyllabic hu-it in the case of Western.

When first discovered an individual Bonelli's is usually not identified to species unless it calls. Often an extended wait ensues to hear it call and if the bird never calls it has to remain as a Bonelli's Warbler sp.

A Bonelli's Warbler sp. was discovered in an apple tree in a back garden at Easington, East Yorkshire on the 6th of November but eventually it was heard to utter the call note of an Eastern and this made up my mind to go for it. After all there are only eight accepted records of an EBW for Britain so this was a true mega in every sense of the word and having never seen one in Britain provided even more of an incentive to go and try to see it.

There was however a cloud on my birding horizon.Throughout Friday the bird had been viewed from a field of rough grass that backed onto a garden containing a large apple tree that the warbler much favoured.However the brother of the owner of the field objected to birders being in the field and called the police and it all got a bit fraught, resulting in everyone being banished from the field.The prospects did not sound good for Saturday although representations were going to be made to the owner of the field by Spurn Bird Observatory to try and gain temporary permisssion for birders to enter the field to view the apple tree.

However the favoured apple tree was still visible, albeit more distantly from a grassed area outside the field's boundary hedge by Seaside Road, although a scope would probably be necessary. I considered  this unwelcome news and my resolve briefly wavered but this would be a new bird for me and in the end I decided to take a chance and go, planning to get to Easington early on Saturday morning.

It is almost a four hour drive from my home to Easington  which lies on the Spurn Peninsula in East Yorkshire so if I wanted to get there early i.e just after dawn I would need to leave my home at around 4am.

The alarm duly awoke me at the given hour and I got ready to leave, having put all my gear on the kitchen table in readiness, the night before. On getting outside I was confronted with thick fog reducing visibility to an alarming extent and making driving hazardous on the rural lanes around our village that are conspicuously devoid of street lights. My village is at one of the highest points in the Oxfordshire Cotswolds and I reasoned that maybe on getting to a lower elevation the fog might clear but for now I was reduced to driving at twenty miles per hour but thankfully at this unsocial time there was no other vehicle around.

Heading for Chipping Norton there came several points where I was inclined to turn back and forget about Easington but on getting to the town the fog had cleared somewhat and I felt more optimistic about the long drive confronting me although the fog persisted  in varying densities for another hour until I joined the northbound M1 motorway.After that it was the usual slog north for many miles before turning off onto the M18 and then the M62, heading for Hull.

To while away the hours it is my custom to listen  to BBC Radio Four Extra as they often repeat classic radio plays from years ago and today's wee hours gem was 'Return from Mars', one of those BBC radio science fiction classics so dated it is entertaining. It is hard now to believe with such a plethora of sophisticated media choices how limited radio and tv was all those years ago. 

Tiredness and the stress of the earlier driving in fog forced me to a stop in a services near Doncaster and seeking a quiet corner at the back of the services I slept in the car for half an hour. I awoke to catch the end of 'Return from Mars' and refreshed rejoined the highway of hell and made for Hull, passing under the huge bridge and with the mighty Humber Estuary to my right. It was now dawn, cold, grey and an emptiness of road, sky and sea to greet me and dampen my spirits.

There is now a new ring road of sorts through the southern outskirts of Hull so I traversed untroubled and easily through the mixture of old victorian buildings and newer ugliness of industrial Hull and its docks, making my way towards the road leading to Spurn.

It was obvious there was going to be no sun today and a dank, grey atmosphere suffused the flat land for miles around as I headed east.

It always seems to take forever to get anywhere on this road of endless speed restrictions but at last I  arrived in Easington.Finding Seaside Road was easy as it was the road out of Easington to Spurn and my fear of a big crowd coming to see the warbler proved groundless as I saw no more than half a dozen birders standing on the grass by the road,  looking through a gap in the hedge to the apple tree some fifty metres across the now currently out of bounds field.

The view through the hedge from outside the field with the
apple tree visible beyond the fence and shed roof

I parked my car at the side of the road, got my stuff together and joined the birders by the hedge, leaving my camera in the car as it would be of little use at the range I would be looking from..

The time was just after 8am. It was fresh but not cold and there was only a light wind from the northeast.I set up my scope and prepared to embark on however long it took to see the EBW, assuming it was still here and had not moved on. Enquiries to my fellow birders told me that last night had been dense fog here too and this suggested that the EBW would not have departed overnight, however the warbler had not so far been seen today in the first hour and a half of daylight.

The apple tree, still bearing a scattering of large bright red apples was proving attractive to a good number of Blackbirds tucking into the apples with relish. A Woodcock, presumably having arrived from the adjacent sea, passed above our heads and flew inland over the houses beside the road and a scattering of Bramblings and Chaffinches followed in similar fashion

An hour passed with little to see apart from Common Chiffchaffs coming and going and a couple of Blackcaps in the tree. Each appearance of a chiffchaff in the tree prompting a surge of hope and expectation but on checking the bird carefully it always ended in disappointment.

All the time news was coming in of other tempting birds being seen on the peninsula.A Hume's Warbler was trapped at Church Fields and a Pied Wheatear, Richard's Pipit and Amur Stonechat were at Sammy's Point. A Pallas's Warbler was in the car park of the Crown and Anchor pub and a female Desert Wheatear on the beach at Kilnsea.

My resolve was being tested to the very limit and others around me could no longer resist the lure of all these other tempting birds and left, so we were down to just four or five.

I hung on and scanned the tree for the umpteenth time with my scope, right to left, top to bottom 

Nothing.

A Sparrowhawk sped through the garden prompting a mass exodus of panicking Blackbirds from the apple tree

Two hours had by now passed very slowly

Other birders came and went, always with the same enquiry

Any sign of  the Bonelli's?

Sorry but no

Cheers mate

I scanned the tree again, more from routine than any expectation. 

I noted a faint movement as a small warbler flew into the apple tree from the right and landed  half way up amongst the leaves and twigs. Unlike the chiffchaffs it was more inclined to show itself and I got it clearly in my scope

No mistaking this beauty. Somewhat nondescript overall, showing dull greyish white underparts and brownish green upperparts with a brighter panel of lemony green on the wing and a prominent black beady eye in a noticeably plain face.This was the bird. No doubt about it.

Almost incredulous I spontaneously exclaimed 

Look at this! Yes that's it!

The Bonelli's!

I was aware of a sudden surge of birders around me but there was no way I was taking my eye off it after all this time waiting and did my best to relay directions while still scoping the warbler which obligingly remained very visible. 

Tom, a fellow twitcher who I know from our annual autumn visits to Shetland and who had maintained the same long vigil as me got onto it.Having watched it for a few minutes we put the news out on Birdguides and the Twitching the UK and Ireland WhatsApp Group at around 1020am

Up to now our number had been less than double figures but it was only a few minutes later that a surge of anxiety racked birders began arriving and our number swelled considerably

Where is it mate?

In the apple tree low down on the left above the shed roof

Got it.Cheers 

The crowd continued to grow to around forty but the viewing was very restricted. Tom said he would go and get his camera and lens, much bigger and superior to mine.I said I would hang on to keep our prime position until he got back and then relinquish my place so he could get a few images unimpeded by the crowd.

c Tom Hines

Five minutes and he was back and took my place.I still managed to find a spot further back and could see the warbler perfectly well as it threaded its way through the leaves, often coming out in the open onto bare twigs and favouring our side of the apple tree.I watched it for twenty or so minutes but the crowd was getting ever larger and ever noisier.One particular person loudly shouting out quite un-necessary directions.Why do people do this?

Crowd Scenes

I bade Tom farewell and made for Sammy's Point to look for the Amur Stonechat, Pied Wheatear and Richard's Pipit.

It was a refreshing change to get away from the noisy scrum at the EBW site and walk out along the embankment by the Humber Estuary, just me and a vastness of sea and sky..I was told the Pied Wheatear was nowhere to be found although it had been seen earlier in the morning and the Richard's Pipit had not been seen for over an hour. 

The Amur Stonechat however was showing particularly well, flying up from a small hawthorn to catch flies in mid air. I commenced filling my camera's memory card with its pleasing image. 

Amur Stonechat

Amur Stonechat used to be called Eastern Stonechat when Siberian Stonechat was split into two species: Western and Eastern Stonechat.Then it became Amur Stonechat but now it has been lumped again with Western Stonechat so we are back to Siberian Stonechat. Confused? So am I.

Sometimes avian taxonomy ties itself in self inflicted knots and can end up creating confusion and controversy rather than simplifying matters.Just look at the naming of birds - Britain's diver is America's loon and so on.

One of the criteria for identifying an Amur/Eastern Stonechat is that its plumage is darker than a Western Stonechat and this bird's appearance certainly looked the part. So as far as I am concerned it will remain an Amur/Eastern Stonechat.. 

By now the forecast rain had begun.Nothing too serious but a light mizzle and bringing with it a low cloud base and dull light. I walked back along the embankment with a vast area of mudflats to my right as the tide had receded to the horizon. The evocative, mournful disembodied cry of a Grey Plover issued from far out in the grey distance wher sea and sky were as one and a loud cry from a much closer unseen Curlew made me start. Redshanks and Turnstones called in concern as I passed by. The open expanse of sea and cavernous sky delivered very different and far more alluring sensations from those of my home in the gentle rolling contours of the Cotswolds. A flock of a hundred or more chackering Fieldfares arrived from the sea, a ragged squadron scattered across the wide sky, heading inland intent on living up to their name, emphasising the wildness of this place at times such as this and bringing the magic of visible migration to life.

I got back to my car.Now what to do? The rain was becoming more persistent.I returned to the Crown and Anchor car park in the hope of seeing a Pallas's Warbler but missed it by seconds but it was followed by a Hume's Warbler, a Firecrest and numerous Goldcrests and Common Chiffchaffs that passed in a small flock through the trees before me.A Hawfinch flew over our heads high in the sky.Birds were everywhere.

It was now noon and I felt very tired. Nothing to eat and just a coffee since four this morning was taking its toll of me.

I faced another four hour drive  home in the rain so decided to call it a day.

I could have remained and got a longer list but the main objective had been achieved with the bonus of a rare Amur Stonechat.

I settled for that.

My grateful thanks to Tom Hines for the use of his image of the Eastern Bonelli's Warbler

A Nutcracker in Norfolk - 26th October 2026

This autumn word came that an irruption of Nutcrackers from their Siberian forest homes was on the cards and might result in one or more reaching our shores.

Nutcrackers are reliant on pine cones to keep them alive throughout the long cold winters in their northern homes.When that crop fails they have no choice but to move west in search of food or perish.

This was the situation brewing this autumn and slowly but surely reports began to come in of thousands of Nutcrackers arriving in western Scandinavia and smaller numbers reaching as far as Belgium and The Netherlands but frustratingly birders here have waited in vain to see if a Nutcracker would reach our shores this autumn. 

If and when one did where would it be?

It had to be on the East Coast surely?

The answer came on the 24th of October when news was released of one that was found the day before by a local resident in the small coastal village of Mundesley in Norfolk. Of course it had to be my ill fortune to be attending a weekend medical conference in London when news broke around Saturday lunchtime.The earliest I could go would be on Monday so I had to hope the bird would remain in the vicinity of Mundesley.

Once I heard the news I contacted fellow Oxonbirder Justin but he had already seen one back in the nineties and was not interested so I called Clackers, whom I used to twitch with back in the day but he does not like driving  nowadays and as a result of Long Covid has mobility issues. I would have to do the driving and ensure he did not have to walk too far. 

Happily he was up for a jaunt to Norfolk so we arranged for me to collect him from his house at 5am on Monday morning and then drive for three and a half hours to Norfolk.

Nutcrackers now known as Northern Nutcracker are divided into two subspecies Slender billed Nutcracker and Spotted or Common Nutcracker and the birds irrupting are from the Slender billed population.They breed from Scandinavia, central and northeast Europe across the Russian Urals to northeast Japan and are essentially non migratory, only leaving their home when the pines fail to produce cones from which the birds extract the seeds they live on. 

The last mass invasion of Nutcrackers into Britain came as far back as August/September 1968 when over 320 birds arrived in Britain, part of a much wider irruption throughout western Europe, many remaining for a considerable period of time. Since then the only long staying and twitchable Nutcracker was one at Cocknage Wood near Stoke on Trent, Staffordshire from the 14th of October until the 9th of November 1991. Another followed in 1998, remaining from the 6-7th of September at Kingsdown in Kent which a few birders who were quick off the mark managed to catch up with. Since then there has only been one accepted record of one seen briefly by a single observer in a wood at Dunnet Bay, Caithness on the 10th of November 2021. 

Other reported sightings, mainly by the general public have always turned out to be Starlings mistakenly identified as the real thing.I kid you not!

Nutcrackers for whatever reason are one of those birds that catch the imagination and cause no little stirring of the birding juices. Pleasingly large, about jay sized and the colour of dark chocolate  liberally spotted with white and with a prominent white tip to the tail, they are unmistakeable .Like  all corvids they have an abundance of character and chutzpah. Add a dose of mystique, coming as they do from the vast coniferous forests of sub alpine and montane Siberia and being very rare in Britain, you can appreciate why this lone pioneering individual would stimulate another mass irruption but of birding humanity this time, to a small unremarkable coastal village in Norfolk.

We set off from Witney at 5am and chatted away the tedious cross country journey heading east in increasingly busy commuting traffic and arrived at a cloudy but dry Mundesley just before 9am. Checking Birdguides there was one entry telling us the Nutcracker was frequenting trees along Water Lane. That was relatively easy to locate but parking looked to be difficult as cars were already lined along all available kerbsides and we had to drive out of the village past the fire station to eventually find somewhere to safely and unobtrusively leave our car.  I knew that yesterday being a Sunday had been somewhat fraught as hordes of birders descended on this small unsuspecting village of narrow lanes and as a result traffic chaos had ensued, entailing buses having to cancel routes due to the congestion and police getting involved.

However Wayne Glossop, administrator of the  Twitching UK and Ireland WhatsApp Group set up a crowd funder for the village's local inshore lifeboat to ameliorate any bad feeling from most of the village residents and this seemed to have diffused the situation by Monday.

We got our gear together, Clackers travelling light with just bins and myself likewise but also with camera. We walked at a gentle pace due to Clackers mobility issues back down the road to a crossroads and took the narrow Water Lane and soon saw a huddle of birders standing on a raised bank looking across some paddocks to a large house beyond.

I was informed this was where the Nutcracker was currently hanging out, perched high up in the golden leaved autumnal trees that divided the paddocks  

I perched precariously on the steep bank with fellow birders to overlook the paddock in front of me and for some time could see nothing of the bird. Tension inevitably began to arise. Others could see it partially concealed amongst the leaves but eventually it moved and through my bins I got my first view of a Nutcracker in Britain. 

Clackers, walking at a slower pace than me had joined us on the bank but I could see from his position he would never be able to see the bird. I called him over to me and told him to look through the scope of a kind person next to me who had it trained on the bird and was offering views to anyone still to see the Nutcracker.

And so Clackers added a Nutcracker to his British list too and I believe it was a lifer also. It is always good to ensure your companion or companions on trips such as this see the bird and as soon as possible, otherwise it does not seem right.

The bird remained in the trees moving from various branches and occasionally descending onto the grass or a tree stump. I had heard this individual was feeding mainly on wasps yesterday and apart from a short spell of feather maintenance, it appeared that was what it was concentrating on doing this morning, catching the wasps amongst the leaves or on the grass below. I never knew they did this as the last Nutcracker I saw was in The Netherlands and that was exclusively eating peanuts that we were feeding it.see here

It never came very close but the views we got were entirely adequate and we remained in what was becoming an increasingly precarious position in a narrow lane with no path and a steady flow of impatient traffic and after forty five minutes we were glad to leave the bank and walk back down the lane to seek the sanctuary of a footpath away from the traffic. 

Now approaching 11am we planned next to drive for forty five minutes to Cley Marshes where a very showy male Desert Wheatear was frequenting the scrub, shingle and a fenceline not far from the car park which would be ideal for Clackers.

Desert Wheatears are predominantly a late October to November rarity in Britain and often very confiding when encountered. Apparently this first winter male at Cley was no exception.

First priority however was food.We had been up since five with nothing to eat or drink so I suggested we stop at the first cafe we saw on the way to Cley. We found Groveland Farm Shop with a cafe just outside Roughton which is near Norwich and by way of celebration Clackers treated us to breakfast. Full English for him and veggie for me.Clackers and myself have shared a good few breakfasts in our time but without exaggeration the one we had here was one of the finest we have ever eaten. 

Not only that, I even managed to twitch Chris Sutton, former professional football player for various premiership sides and now a football presenter on radio and tv who was sitting at the next table and no I did not ask him for a selfie.

Replete we returned to the car noting the weather was turning for the worse as it began to gently rain.On getting to Cley it was looking very gloomy indeed, the cloud base low and ominously grey, the rain now full on and being whipped across the marshes and shingle by a brisk wind. It was looking bleak. I parked the car and looking east I could see a line of birders strung across the shingle not that far off and presumably looking at the wheatear.

My heart sank however as I realised that to access the bird we would have several hundred metres of loose shingle to trudge over. Not ideal for Clackers but we went at our own separate pace to get there in our own time. 

On getting to the bird I was disappointed to see how far away it was from the line of birders.From images I had seen it was obvious that it would allow much closer approach. 

The wind and rain previously discounted now had to be taken seriously as they were hampering both me and the bird which perched unsteadily, head into the strong wind, clutching spikes of dead vegetation or perching on the wires and posts of the boundary fence, Although struggling with the wind the bird was still managing to find food, dropping down regularly to seize something from the shingle and then flying back up to an elevated perch.

The weather persuaded my fellow birders to depart and I was on my own. This presented a 'now or never' opportunity to approach the wheatear more closely, which true to form showed no concern. It flew from perch to perch and finally we came to a point where it was but a metre or two from me, gripping its  selected dead stem tightly, swaying like a circus tightrope performer as the wind beat at it,  and tried to usurp it from its perch.

Exposed on the ridge of shingle there was no hiding place from the elements. It was attritional. I braced myself against the gusts of wind with feet wedged firmly into the shingle as rain battered into my face and fired off as many shots as possible with my camera. I could hardly fail at this range and despite the difficult conditions was pleased with the results.

Tempted to linger I could see that Clackers, having seen the bird was keen to regain the sanctuary of the car  so we made our way back across the vast expanse of shingle to collapse into the car out of the wind and rain.What a relief.

We set off for Oxfordshire and after another four hours I dropped Clackers at his home and reflected on a pleasant day of birding with my former twitching buddy.. 

Just like old times. 

A Siberian Double - 22nd October 2026

c  Adrian Webb

On the 1st of October 2026 I saw a Siberian Blue Robin  on Shetland and today I saw a Rufous tailed Robin  at Flamborough in Yorkshire.

Both these birds are fabled, mega rare and utterly desirable vagrants from Siberia, their combined occurences in Britain not even reaching double figures. 

There have been nine in total. 

Four Rufous tailed Robins and five Siberian Blue Robins.

Basking in the satisfying glory and envy of birding colleagues at having been fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to see a Siberian Blue Robin I was taken aback when reports surfaced a week after my return from Shetland of a Rufous tailed Robin being found mid morning at South Landing, Flamborough, Yorkshire on the 20th of October.

Rufous tailed Robins breed in damp forests with dense undergrowth in southern Siberia  and winter from China south of the Yangtze River to northern Indochina and Thailand so this bird at Flamborough was a very long way off course.

My heart sunk as I knew I had to go for it if possible.The bird was inhabiting a well vegetated, wooded gully with a small stream at the bottom but the prospect was daunting as the crowds would be enormous. The bird being on the mainland of Britain would mean many people who would baulk at travelling to a remote island would welcome the opportunity to see a major rarity at a popular and easily accessible birding spot on the mainland. To further compound problems the viewing opportunities  of the gully were very limited, any view being confined to looking down from a narrow path of less than a hundred metres and  the bird, being even more of a skulker than the Siberian Blue Robin, would be very difficult to see. These days twitches that attract very large numbers of people are becomng less and less bearable from my point of view. It's nobody's fault, that is the way of things nowadays and I accept this but if this bird was still present tomorrow it would definitely attract a very large number of birders craving a sighting of it.

With a hospital appointment and a car needing mechanical attention I was in no position to travel north until Thursday the 21st of October. I called Justin, a fellow Oxonbirder and occasional twitcher, the day before to see if he would be interested in going and the upshot was that we agreed to meet at his place at 3am on Thursday and Justin would drive us to Flamborough with an estimated arrival time at around 0635.

The day before we planned our visit it became apparent that, as I feared the crowds had been extremely large and viewing as a consequence very difficult and not helped by the bird's characteristically elusive behaviour, whereby it would disappear for hours before granting a seconds only view and then melting away into the undergrowth once again.

All went well on our drive north and we duly arrived on time, still in darkness, in the designated car park which was already well occupied by cars - birders cars.Dawn was just breaking  as we got ourselves together and Justin paid £6.00 for a day's parking.

We followed the track towards the robin's location, a narrow gully through which trickled a stream overlooked and guarded by a fence of wooden railings.As the light increased we crossed Whale Bridge and came to the hallowed fenceline that overlooked the gully. Even at this hour the path by the fence was crammed solid from one end to the other with birders,  leaving absolutely no room for us to actually stand by the fence. An impenetrable line and crush of birders forced us to stand two deep with little prospect of any possible view of the stream below, which the robin according to all previous reports favoured.The best that could be said of our current situation was that we were positioned directly opposite a leaning sycamore that grew up from the gully bottom and was the prime landmark to see the bird, so we were in pole position to see the robin provided we could get to the railing.

There came a rare moment of joy as the sun filtered through the trees and took the edge off the cold air.

Justin wandered off to try and find a gap somewhere, anywhere in the line of birders.

At this point no one knew if the robin was still here or not.

I remained standing where I was and hoped someone would move but there was little sign of that happening and for forty five minutes there was nothing I could do but look at the back of other birders heads in mute frustration. Then with twenty minutes having passed excited cries came from further along the fence to my right. The robin had been seen. so at least I knew it was still present. Everyone in front of me craned over the fence with some even selfishly standing on the fence rails to get a better view which rendered mine non existent.

Tired and now throughly morose I had to settle back to wait until someone vacated their spot on the fence which duly happened but I was too slow and someone slipped in front of me.More frustration ensued. but then a touch of good fortune, as with another forty or so minutes having passed there came a report of a male Siberian Rubythroat having been seen at Spurn. Cue a number of birders immediately abandoning their spot on the fence to try and seize this opportunity to get an equally if not more alluring bird on their list and as a consequence my gaining a prime position overlooking the stream and now famous sycamore below me in the gully.I was not so tardy in bagging a place by the fence this time.

Congratulating myself on having finally got a good spot I soon found myself lapsing into more frustration as the robin continued to remain unseen for a very long period and when it did appear I missed it by seconds, failing to locate it at the bottom of the gully before it slipped behind the sycamore's trunk and out of sight.

A few minutes later two small brown birds shot along the gully below me, one pursuing the other.The bird in front was the Rufous tailed Robin chased by a European Robin that over the subsequent hours was to prove persistently annoying, giving the Rufous tailed Robin no peace and frustrating any chance I had of a prolonged view of the star of the show.

At least I could now claim to have seen the Rufous tailed Robin  in flight but I wanted a full unexpurgated view of this arch skulker on the ground and relatively still.

I have only seen a Rufous tailed Robin once before and that was in September 2008 at Rudong in China. On that occasion it was in very similar habitat to that I was currently looking at and behaving in a similarly elusive manner as it appeared out of similar low cover near water and like the bird today managed to disappear without trace although I knew it was only a few metres away.

A couple of Wrens kept us on our toes with sporadic appearances, whizzing in and out of the brambles that spilled down the opposite bank and there were two more very brief and tantalising sightings of the robin but not from my present location so it was tempting to move. However. I was not prepared to relinquish my place under any circumstances until  I had satisfied my desire to see the robin well. I had all day after all. 

Hours had by now passed, it seemed later than it was and then finally the robin appeared on a low moss covered bough of the sycamore, hopping along before once more disappearing into a mess of wet muddy leaves and branches. It was a seconds only view through my bins but from  no more than twenty metres away. I saw a non descript brown bird with a greyish breast and flanks the feathers of which were noticeably scalloped with dark edgings. As it moved off I caught a hint of rufous on its upper tail. At last! I had seen it well  and properly and spontaneously I and my immediate neighbour, having shared an extended vigil for just this moment shook each other's hand in mutual congratulation and relief.

Then it was back to more prolonged. hopeful staring down into the tangle of bramble and wet leaves  at the bottom  of the gully. I had another very brief view of it hopping on the stream bed and then it was gone again.

A tap on my shoulder and turning there was a very relieved Justin who also had endured similar frustrations but finally seen it at roughly the same time as myself. It was now two in the afternoon and I estimated I had been standing for seven and a half hours in the same spot and with that we decided we had achieved what we set out to do and departed for home, the crush of birders never for once diminishing, for as we left others were arriving.

Shetland Miscellany - 17th October 2026

Here as a finale to my  stay on Shetland this autumn are a few images of less rare birds but nonetheless ones that were good to see and added to the overall enjoyment of this year's trip

Commencing (see above) with a Hornemann's Arctic Redpoll at Burn of Sound

Common Redstart - Sumburgh Quarry

Little Bunting - Sumburgh Head Lighthouse

Citrine Wagtail - Quendale Mill

Red breasted Flycatcher - Ollaberry

Siskin - Clickimin Loch, Lerwick

Birds seen on Shetland from 16th of September-17th of October 2026

Red throated Diver;Great Northern Diver;Little Grebe;Slavonian Grebe;Northern Fulmar;Great Cormorant;European Shag; Grey Heron; Mute Swan;Whooper Swan; Pink footed Goose; Greylag Goose; Barnacle Goose; Common Shelduck; Eurasian Wigeon; American Wigeon; Eurasian Teal; Mallard; Northern Shoveler; Common Pochard; Tufted Duck; Greater Scaup; Eider; King Eider; Long tailed Duck; Common Scoter; Common Goldeneye; Red breasted Merganser; Pallid Harrier; Eurasian Sparrowhawk; Common Kestrel; Merlin; Red Grouse; Common Quail; Moorhen; Common Coot; Ringed Plover; European Golden Plover; Grey Plover; Lapwing; Knot; Sanderling; Baird's Sandpiper; Purple Sandpiper; Dunlin; Buff breasted Sandpiper x 2; Ruff; Jack Snipe; Common Snipe; Black tailed Godwit; Bar tailed Godwit; Eurasian Curlew; Common Redshank; Turnstone; Great Skua; Black headed Gull; Common Gull; Herring Gull; Great Black backed Gull; Kittiwake; American Black Tern; Guillemot; Razorbill; Black Guillemot; Rock Dove;Wood Pigeon; Collared Dove; Kingfisher; Skylark; Swallow; Olive backed Pipit x 2; Meadow Pipit; Rock Pipit; Citrine Wagtail; Grey Wagtail; White/Pied Wagtail; Wren; Siberian Blue Robin; Robin; Bluethroat; Siberian Stonechat; Common Redstart;  Northern Wheatear; Grey cheeked Thrush; Blackbird; Fieldfare; Song Thrush; Redwing; Reed Warbler; Barred Warbler x 2; Lesser Whitethroat; Blackcap; Common Chiffchaff; Willow Warbler; Two barred Greenish Warbler; Arctic Warbler; Yellow browed Warbler x 7; Western Bonelli's Warbler x 2; Common Chiffchaff; Willow Warbler; Goldcrest; Firecrest; Red breasted Flycatcher x 3; Pied Flycatcher; Golden Oriole; Red backed Shrike; Great Grey Shrike; Rook; Carrion Crow; Hooded Crow; Common Raven; Common Starling; House Sparrow; Chaffinch; Brambling; Eurasian Siskin; Common Linnet; Twite; Common Redpoll; Hornemann's Arctic Redpoll; Common Rosefinch; Lapland Bunting; Black faced Bunting; Little Bunting.

There were four megas on this trip in the form of:

Siberian Blue Robin - the only new addition to my British List that now stands at 546. It was also a lifer

Grey cheeked Thrush - my second for Britain

Two barred Greenish Warbler - my second for Britain

Black faced Bunting - my third for Britain

Mammals

Minke Whale

Bottle nosed Dolphin

White beaked Dolphin

Risso's Dolphin

Atlantic Grey Seal

Common Seal

Another Mega on Shetland - 12th October 2026

On Saturday afternoon the 10th of October I was waiting for a Hornemann's Arctic Redpoll to appear at a place called Burn of Sound which lies on the southern outskirts of Lerwick. 

As I waited, news came through of another mega rare bird  being found on Shetland.The bird was reported as a Swainson's Thrush, normally to be found breeding in North America and spending the winter in South America. It was just a few miles down the road at a place called Easter Quarff that lies close to the main A970 road.

Cue a mass exodus of birders, no one now interested in the redpoll.This included yours truly as I needed Swainson's for my British list

We returned to my car and drove a few miles south to Easter Quarff taking extra care to park carefully beside the busy A970, crossed the road and walked up a tarmac drive passing some houses and gardens and tramped onwards along a muddy and wet farm track into a hinterland of rough pasture and moorland with a burn running down through some wind blown willows that were situated to one side of the track

A huddle of birders were stood on the track scrutinising the willows.It was obvious they could see the bird. 

Joining them we learned the bird was partially visible, perched low down on the far side of the willows but I failed to see it. Then it moved further along the line of willows and everyone followed it.The light was beginning to fail and I was growing ever more anxious about setting eyes on this potential addition to my British list.Then it flew once more and I saw it.

Yes. Thank you very much but my rejoicing was to be short lived as the elusive thrush was quickly re-identified as a Grey cheeked Thrush, closely similar to a Swainson's Thrush but differs in having a greyer face and only a partial or absent buff coloured eye ring. It is marginally the  rarer of these two Catharus thrushes on Shetland with 12 records (the last being in 2015) as opposed to 15 for Swainsons. A much prized, very rare Nearctic vagrant no doubt but from my point of view mildly disappointing as I had already seen a Grey cheeked Thrush a very long time ago in November 2005, which was frequenting a wood in Hertfordshire of all places.

Grey cheeked Thrushes breed in northern boreal forests from Newfoundland to Alaska and across the Bering Sea to eastern Siberia and winter in northern parts of South America, mainly east of the Andes including the Amazon basin..

Never mind it was a great bird to see and my fourth mega on Shetland this autumn, commencing with the unforgettable and forever memorable Siberian Blue Robin at Hillwell followed that afternoon by a Two barred Greenish Warbler at Quendale just a few hundred metres down the road and then a Black faced Bunting seven days later that was present for only one evening and also at Quendale 

The Grey cheeked Thrush moved down the track to the houses and was briefly located perched on a wooden fence in a garden and although we and a lot of other birders waited for it to re-appear it was not seen again. Reluctantly everyone departed but we would be back tomorrow to try and get better views of this small North American thrush

Sunday morning arrived with light winds from the southwest and sun. The thrush had been relocated fairly early, feeding alongside the tarmac drive that led up to the houses.A cramped line of birders two deep were spread right across the drive when we arrived. I feared I would have no chance of getting to look up the drive but by sheer luck I arrived just as a gap appeared in the squash of birders and the bird hopped out of a hedge and along the drive, moving away from us all the time but I clearly saw a greyish brown small thrush with pale  underparts, a spotted breast and with noticeably pale pinkish legs.Then it was gone. A long wait ensued but the bird never re-appeared and it was eventually located back amongst the willows.

We vowed to return in the afternoon when hopefully most people would have left and it would be quieter.Never a bad strategy in such situations.

Returning mid afternoon we found the thrush was still loitering amongst the willows, feeding alongside the burn, low down amongst the tangle of branches and grass.It showed fairly regularly but the big problem for photography was the sun which shone directly through the willows into our faces with the consequence the bird was backlit. I alternately watched it feeding, even bathing in the burn and tried my best with the camera but it was far from satisfactory.

Note the distinctive displaced white feathers that formerly underlaid the missing tertial

The thrush favoured  the far end of the willows in particular and would show itself well there,  in the open although usually partially obscured by the long grass it sought its prey in.Invariably it returned to the sanctuary of the willows after any brief excursion into the open.

The thrush finally flew back to the gardens and we gave it up vowing to return the next day. That evening we discussed a plan on how to get close to the bird and get the photos we so desired.The morning turned out to be grey and cloudy which was ideal as there was no chance of bright sun to get in the way but the morning proved fruitless with only one  brief view of the bird hopping across another driveway before being chased off by the inevitable pugnacious Robin.We waited a very long time but never saw it again and others could not find it in the willows where it had always seemed to end up.

I left to try again with the Arctic Redpoll and Mark said he would call me if the thrush re-appeared.An hour later with no sign of the redpoll my phone rang and Mark confirmed the thrush had been re-found and guess where - yes of course, it was in its favourite willows.

I made my way back to Easter Quarff and soon saw the thrush. We positioned ourselves at the end of the  willows where the thrush liked to linger on and under the willow branches just above the water and come out onto some partly waterlogged long grass to feed.

Most people present having seen it well departed and we were down to a small group of half a dozen or so.The thrush by now had moved off and was thought to be in the gardens.So in its absence we did a bit of 'landscaping', treading down the grass to create a more flattened open area where the thrush could come out and would not be obscured by the long blades of grass.An impromptu stage if you like.

The 'landscaped' wet grass

The next hour and a half became an endurance test for both mind and body as there was nothing to do but stand stoically awaiting any development on the thrush front.Surely it would return here as it had done so many times before? It was beginning to seem a forlorn hope and any optimism was beginning to fade.

Finally a birder further down the track signalled the thrush was working its way back along the base of the willows by the burn. Everyone of us  became energised and the increased sense of expectation was palpable.This was what we had been waiting for. I made a quick check of camera settings, un-necessary really but an instinctive means of re-assurance and calming of apprehension as the big moment approached.

Tense and poised for action we awaited the arrival of the star guest which duly came in the form of an indistinct dark shape hopping towards us over some, almost water level willow branches. I lost sight of it. Panic. But then suddenly and thrillingly there it was perched briefly in full view amongst the fretwork of thin  willow branches growing over the amber water of the burn. 

In the few seconds  granted to me I noted its pale, off white underparts and diffuse black spotting on its breast, greyish brown upperparts, pale pink legs and sparkling dark eyes.Then it dropped down into the shallow water below before moving out onto the grass in a series of hops.

As it moved out of cover we held our breath.In total silence we watched the thrush move ever further out onto the flooded grass as we had planned, coming ridiculously close at times.

It hopped around and then retreated back into the base of the willows.We waited, as from experience we knew it was likely to return imminentlywhich it duly did.

The same perfomance then repeated itself 

The thrush when first seen was thought to have a damaged wing but some of the photos I took showed it was missing the two inner tertials from its left wing and possibly an inner greater covert which caused one or more underlying white feathers to protrude prominently on occasions. Certainly its flight was unimpeded whenever it decided to leave the willows and move back to the gardens.

Would it come back for a third time? Unbelievably the answer was yes and it was just as good as the previous two visits with the addition of it venturing onto the wet muddy track and then into the grass on the other side  of the track as we filled our memory cards with this unforgettable close encounter, so very different to my experience in a wood in Hertfordshire twenty one years ago

The thrush departed once more and we decided that we could do no better and so headed for home.

Our good friend Lee Mott, for now confined to a wheelchair, having seen the
Grey cheeked Thrush  which was a lifer for him

I never thought that I would get to see this shy North American thrush so very close and for such an extended period.