Two Sibes on Shetland 6th October 2025

Every year for the last week in September and the first two weeks of October I head to Shetland to enjoy looking for and photographing rare birds that arrive at this peak time of migration and I am rarely disappointed.

The last three years have proved exceptional and this year I felt, wrongly as it transpired, was likely to be nowhere near as good.I arrived on the 24th of September just in time to miss two goodies in the form of an Eastern Bonelli's Warbler and a Pallas's Grassshopper Warbler, both on Unst and which had the temerity to depart  during the night prior to my arrival in Lerwick.

No matter, there was a report of a Short toed Lark at Otterswick on Yell to go and see on the very day of my arrival and a male Ring necked Duck on Loch Tingwall near to Scalloway where I was staying. Various other rarities came along as they usually do in the following days such as a Blue winged Teal at Loch of Hillwell in the south of Mainland and a very elusive Brown Shrike was at Aywick on Yell followed by a Bluethroat at Geosetter back on Mainland, whilst Yellow browed Warblers began to be reported widely as more and more birders arrived on the islands.

I missed the first true mega in the form of a Black faced Bunting which was identified late on the 28th of September near Sandwick but despite many of us arriving there first thing the next morning we found it had departed overnight and later that day a Rustic Bunting, haunting a ditch at Maywick failed to trouble my notebook despite extensive searching. 

Commoner birds such as Common and Lesser Whitethroats, Pied and Spotted Flycatchers, Common Chiffchaffs and Willow Warblers featured regularly but it was whilst conducting a fruitless search for a Barred Warbler along the footpath that runs beside Clickimin Loch on the outskirts of Lerwick, that my phone gave a discrete ping announcing a new message from the Shetland Rare Birds WhatsApp Group

And what a message it was:

Heads up - first winter Siberian Thrush at Scatsta Plantation at 3pm.No further sign

This was the news that I and most other birders on Shetland had been waiting and hoping for, a total mega had been found that no birder would want to miss if at all humanly possible. Siberian Thrushes are a bird of the vast forests covering Siberia, elusive, ultra shy and nervous in the extreme and hardly ever show themselves in the open. A bird of myth and legend that every twitcher and rarity hunter is aware of and wishes to become familiar with if only for a minute.

Siberian Thrushes breed in the taiga zone of central and eastern Siberia, east to the Sea of Okhotsk and then south to northern Mongolia, northeast China and the Russian Far East. They migrate to spend the winter in south eastern Asia as far south as the Greater Sunda Islands. It is a very rare vagrant to Britain with only 15 accepted records to date, the last being in 2022, also from Shetland.

I had been fortunate enough to have seen one briefly at Kilminning in Fife on the way back from twitching a Tennessee Warbler on Yell see here but was still totally and utterly taken with the chance of seeing another and hopefully one giving much better views than the bird at Kilminning.

I ran back to the car in a matter of minutes and set the satnav for Scatsta and headed north as fast as safely possible but aware of not allowing my excitement to make my driving reckless. Arriving at Scatsta I encountered a long line of cars parked on the side of the road, birders cars obviously and people hurrying to the wide entrance track into the plantation. I found a space on the road and after a short walk joined a throng of around a hundred birders surrounding various parts of the plantation

There were people everywhere, birders who had got here before me stood around not sure what to do and we heard from the finders about how they had discovered the bird flying briefly out of cover to pluck a berry from one of the rosa hedges that grew below the trees.

For twenty minutes very little happened then someone saw the thrush flying to another part of the plantation and a surge of camouflaged humanity headed to where the bird had flown.Another lull followed before it was then seen down by the road before flying back at speed past me and other astonished birders, crossing a large expanse of lawn and disappearing into the base of a hebe bush from which it was not seen to emerge but in fact had done so and consequently given all of us the slip.

Although people hung about for another couple of hours and extensive use of thermal imagers were brought to bear it was only seen once more and that very briefly back by the road and reluctantly everyone had to accept it had given us the slip once more despite some claiming to have seen it subsequently although it was suspected they had mistaken a blackbird for the real thing.    

So there we are. From my point of view I had seen the Siberian Thrush but it could hardly be called satisfactory. I stood with others and although not seeing the thrush again I did manage to see a Barred Warbler feeding along a line of bushes and two Bramblings were a new trip tick for me. 

Reluctantly I returned to the car and headed back to Scalloway. I had encountered this fabled thrush twice now but still not seen one really well. The only hope was it might still be here tomorrow. 

Sadly it wasn't.

In the ensuing days the wind reached gale force and it was singularly unpleasant but I still managed to see a Common Rosefinch, missed a pod of four Orcas passing Sumburgh Head before I could get there and watched several Sooty Shearwaters passing the head in a southerly gale.

On the 2nd of October I decided to head north to Eshaness, following up news of a Glossy Ibis there which is a rare bird to see on Shetland and a species I had never seen here.

I had just about reached the lighthouse at Eshaness when my Shetland Rare Birds WhatsApp pinged and sensationally informed me that another Siberian Thrush, a first winter male had been discovered in a plantation by the Loch of Asta near to Scalloway. My heart sunk. I was over an hour's drive away but without question I had to go and try my luck but the crowd, judging by last time at Scatsta would be huge, bringing the  inevitable parking problems and all the other anxieties that come with a major twitch on Shetland these days.

A fraught hour followed driving south with indeed reports of parking problems at the adjacent Scalloway Caravan Park. It had been suggested the best option was to park further away in the Golf Club car park and then walk a mile south along the road to the plantation where the thrush had been found and was presumably still present.

I got the last place in the golfers car park which, being a weekday was not populated by any golfers,  thus avoiding any  potential conflict. I set off with camera and bins on the mile walk to the plantation.

There was no mistaking where the bird had been seen as over a hundred birders had surrounded the small plantation, many standing in the shallow water at the edge of the loch staring hopefully at the plantation that rose before them up a steep grass bank to the road, while others stood on grass banks to either side.Everyone waiting and hoping for the bird to show itself. 

The Plantation

Typically the thrush was proving totally uncooperative and had only been seen twice in the last few hours feeding on elderberries deep within the plantation's trees.At first I stood with others two deep on the grass bank but then as I was wearing wellingtons decided to join my fellow birders in the  shallow water at the loch's edge as this would give me a better all round view of the plantation. 

The thrush from reports of the previous sightings had been feeding on elderberries at the tops of the trees in the plantation and would rise from hiding in the depths of the plantation to feed on them but without fail never appearing truly in the open  and was only ever partially visible through the wind tossed leaves for the briefest of moments before its secretive nature persuaded it to drop down into the sanctuary of the thickest part of the plantation. The constant arrival and departure of similar sized Starlings to also feed on the berries did not help matters and many of us were momentarily deceived on more than one occasion. After a long wait and moving position several times I eventually saw the thrush when a Blackbird disturbed it in the elderberries. All I saw was a bluish grey body and tail as it moved down and out of sight. That was it. Having at least a reasonable claim to have now seen the bird or at least parts of it I felt energised to remain for further and better views and spent the rest of the day doing just that with finally a great sighting of it flying along the side of the plantation, noting the iconic bands of grey and white that form the distinctive underwing pattern of its genus and a body which looked remarkably blue.

But at this moment of redemption who cares about the minutiae of detail in the instant rush of elation that sweeps through one. I could now say I had well and truly seen a Siberian Thrush.

What a fantastic feeling it was. There is nothing quite like it. 

Mark, delayed by a day by Storm Amy arrived by Loganair early the next morning and despite the raging gale not unnaturally wanted to go and see the thrush immediately which had already been reported as still present in the plantation We spent the whole morning there before going to see an Eastern Subalpine Warbler at Levenwick.

Neither of us had come remotely close to getting an image of the thrush which we had noted would sometimes fly out of the plantation and up over the road to the large garden on the other side.

So next morning there was no question  where we were going. Loch of Asta and the now familiar plantation. Staying in Scalloway it was but a ten minute drive for us and once there we were determined to try and get an image or two of a bird that so far had contrived to prove the most frustrating and elusive of subjects.

I grew increasingly despondent as others managed to achieve passable images of the thrush but always partially obscured by leaves. For some reason I had great difficulty in picking it up amongst the elder leaves as others exclaimed with pleasure about the views they were getting of it and then, when finally I located the bird, was always a fraction too late as it granted the briefest of views before dropping out of sight.

The next day the 6th of October was wet and miserable but predicted to improve by noon so we briefly checked on the thrush that morning but the prospects did not look great with a few morose and wet birders standing around in the rain and gloom by the plantation and garden.

We stopped to enquire of a birder at the side of the road who turned out to be Bradders, well known to both of us

Hi Bradders.Any sign?

No. I think it has gone.

We went to see a Pectoral Sandpiper at a place with the unfortunate name of Twatt and whilst there news came through that the thrush was still at Loch of Asta but favouring the garden more than the plantation.We returned as fast as possible.

Immediately on arrival we found the bird was on show and spending most of its time feeding in various parts of the garden that lay across the road from the plantation.

Viewing into the garden

The viewing opportunities into the garden were far more restricted than from the loch. The garden was right by a road with fast moving cars but I managed to position myself safely on a bank overlooking the garden that at last enabled me to get some decent images of this iconic bird as it behaved much like a blackbird, turning over leaves on  the ground in search of food.

With patience it was possible to view the bird well.The size of a Song Thrush, I noted its adult like overall blue grey plumage with markedly grey and white striped undertail coverts, the only real indication of its immaturity being the creamy white markings on its face and the indistinct supercilia. The large dark eyes betrayed its preference for the gloomy interiors of northern forests and its behaviour was very similar to that other forest dwelling thrush that occasionally visits Shetland - White's Thrush - skulking and edgy, showing a marked predilection to remain very much under cover and shunning open ground. On one occasion it performed a similar dance to that of a White's Thrush when feeding and on a number of occasions it would choose to sit motionless in cover doing very little

We remained here all day and the bird finally gave itself up and was virtually on constant view for over two hours feeding in the garden. Still living up to its reputation of  shyness  it  never ventured into the open but spent much time tossing dead leaves about with some vigour close to cover but nevertheless gave ample opportunity for everyone to see it well and for extended periods

In a quiet moment I reflected that I had seen not one but two Siberian Thrushes in the space of four days.Who in their wildest dreams could have predicted such a thing and this is why I come to Shetland.

We went home to Scalloway to process the far too many images we had taken. 

What are we going to do tomorrow Mark? I enquired.

No question. If the thrush is there we go and see it again came his reply.

                                                                          And it was

With my thanks and congratulations to the finders of both of these Siberian Thrushes

There was no sign of the Siberian Thrush on the 11th of October.

A Manx Shearwater at Farmoor Reservoir 16th September 2025

Monday September the 15th brought southwesterly gales to Britain coinciding perfectly with the nightime departures of young Manx Shearwaters from their burrows on islands along the west coast of Britain.

Inevitably a number of these young birds become disoriented and get blown inland by the wind to settle exhausted in fields, on roads and in this case Farmoor Reservoir. It is not unknown for Manx Shearwaters to be found on the reservoir in such conditions and so far there are ten records, nine of which have been in September, the last record being five years ago on the 11th of September 2020.

Today the 16th of September provided the eleventh record of this rare vagrant to the reservoir, with another exhausted individual picked up from a farmer's field at Steventon near Didcot in Oxfordshire the day before and a further less fortunate two found dead in the county, one near Banbury and one in my home village of Leafield near Witney.

I got to the reservoir at just after seven in the morning but with little inkling of the momentous event to follow.The wind was fractionally less severe than yesterday but still forceful, blowing unhindered across the churning waters of both basins. A scattering of small waders were braving the froth and waves on the causeway and a late Yellow Wagtail struggled to keep the wind from blowing its long tail over its back.

For the first hour the vague hope of a storm driven displaced Grey Phalarope remained just that as I made a fruitless circuit of the smaller basin with only Ringed Plovers, Dunlin and Common Sandpipers haunting the wave lashed concrete shore. Needless to say there was no sign of a phalarope although plenty have been reported from various inland locations recently.

The sun shone on a heaving mass of restless, white crested waves creating a dazzling miasma of sparkling light and shade as a couple of Common Terns rode the wind with consummate ease, their plumage transformed to pure white in the bright sun and precipitating hopes that maybe they could be Arctic Terns but it was not to be. 

There have been large numbers of hirundines present for the last few days, House Martins mainly with up to five hundred skimming the waves and causeway in low level flight, many of them inexperienced juveniles in their dowdy first plumage, struggling to maintain a steady course in the relentless wind whilst further out more accomplished fliers, mainly adults, their pure white rumps almost glowing in the bright sunlight, endlessly moved low into the wind, crossing and re-crossing the blue disturbed waters.

A number of us sought sanctuary from the now almost gale force winds in the Causeway Hide and looked out onto the troubled waters of the larger basin.Viewing conditions were far from ideal with the sun shining almost into our eyes and the wind blowing full on and unhindered into our faces.

I cannot recall what time it was when the Manx Shearwater was discovered far out in the middle of the larger basin.We speculated whether it had just arrived or had it been here all along but hidden in the wave troughs.Whatever the circumstances here it was, undeniably, swimming low in the waves and difficult to see as it rose and fell in the choppy waters.The fact it was far out in the middle of the reservoir did not help but by concentrating very hard it was possible to discern its dark, flat backed form, black above and white below alternately rising  and sinking  into visibility and invisibility amongst the waves.

For the most part it remained on the water, appearing quite at home and occasionally flapping its wings, diving and even taking a couple of circuitous flights around the reservoir

This 'lost' shearwater was fortunate indeed to have found the reservoir, the currently rough waters of which would much resemble the Atlantic Ocean which the bird would have been aiming to cross on its 10,000 kilometre migration to spend the winter off Brazil and Argentina but for today sanctuary and temporary relief was here in the middle of England in Oxfordshire and about as far inland as it could possibly be.

The shearwater appeared in good health, alert and active and I considered its prospects good. A day's rest and recuperation on Farmoor Reservoir would be the ideal prelude to its interrupted migration  and before it set a course for the coast  of South America

With the news put out on the Oxon Bird Forum by mid morning it was not long before local birders began arriving and throughout the day a steady stream of birders, both local and more distant came to look at this unusual visitor.

It's out there somewhere!

I would have liked to stay for the rest of the day in the hope that the shearwater might come closer to enable a half decent photograph but I had to depart for my regular Tuesday afternoon voluntary work in Chipping Norton but others did remain and sure enough the shearwater did come closer, enabling Roger, a fellow Oxonbirder and ace photographer to take the superb image below and which he has kindly allowed me to use in this blog. 

c Roger Wyatt

Voluntary duty over, I returned to the reservoir in the late afternoon with Mark (P) and we were rewarded with the bird performing, albeit distantly, an extended fly around amongst the windsurfers who were taking full advantage of the windy conditions on the larger of the two basins. Eventually the shearwater settled out in the middle of the basin and we decided to walk round to the Causeway Hide as the sun would be behind us and the view hopefully better from there.

It worked a treat, as standing in the open doorway of the hide we were sheltered from the wind and the scope was free of vibration.This afforded us some of the best views we had of the bird as it swam steadfastly into the wind, breasting the waves before sinking down into a wave trough and then rising up again. 

Soon there was quite a gathering of local birders outside the Hide and after everyone had their fill of the shearwater the occasion took on a distinct air of relaxed sociability.

                                      Would that it was always like this at the reservoir

 

A Farmoor Osprey 7th September 2025

It has been a good two days at Farmoor Reservoir.

Yesterday, on arriving in the very early morning there was every birder's dream of finding a rarity in the form of two Glossy Ibis, wandering amongst a large gathering of Coot at the water's edge by the causeway but they flew off at just after seven before there was a chance of a photograph.However the ibis was a new bird species for me at Farmoor so no complaints.

There has been a large influx of Glossy Ibis into Britain lately, with double figure flocks being sighted in the southern half of England, possibly forced from their usual haunts in southern Europe by drought.

Today I returned harbouring the ridiculous hope that maybe some more Glossy Ibis might have reached the reservoir but with no sign of any I resigned myself to accept that Farmoor had already been delivered its quota of this southern species and there were to be no more prehistoric looking angular shapes stalking the reservoir's shores to delight me, as they did yesterday.

A slow walk up the causeway in a stiff southeast wind produced the attractive looking leucistic Pied Wagtail, a shock of white wings when it flew amongst its predominantly grey coloured fellow wagtails. Up to sixty wagtails congregate on the causeway in the early morning and late evening when disturbance is at a minimum, the attraction for the wagtails being the plentiful supply of insects.

Leucistic Pied Wagtail

I stood at the far end of the causeway, the brisk wind roaring in my ears and was joined by Dave and we agreed there was currently not much about but that might change. In situations such as this we adopt a wait and see approach and sure enough, twenty minutes later a juvenile Peregrine put in an appearance.Sadly its immaturity manifested itself in not only plumage but also behaviour as it obviously had not read the Peregrine instruction manual and initially tried its luck chasing prey that was far too large to capture such as Herring Gulls, Cormorants and even a Canada Goose.

Juvenile female Peregrine

It also tried its luck with a newly arrived flock of eight Black Terns which would be more suitable victims but again was unsuccessful and retired to a tree.Not unexpectedly the terns promptly fled the reservoir.

The last we saw of the Peregrine was as it flew high in the sky but then our attention was diverted  by a slightly larger and darker bird of prey suddenly appearing next to it - a Marsh Harrier, another excellent bird to find at Farmoor. 

Things were definitely looking up, certainly if you kept your eyes to the skies!

Time passed, the wind dropped to a whisper and I sat chatting with Sally on the causeway wall.She comes every morning to try and see the last of the Swifts departing for Africa. It is getting late now but Sally has a thing about Swifts and is forever optimistic that just one more might pass through on its way to its winter home in the African Congo.

Yet another Marsh Harrier appeared high in the sky above us and three Ringed Plovers and a Dunlin skittered along the water's edge below us. A good day had now become remarkable.

Juvenile Ringed Plover

Juvenile Dunlin

Half an hour later I said to Sally.

All we need now to make the day complete is an Osprey.

She replied laconically. 

There's one right in front of us. 

I wish I replied, assuming she wasn't being serious

No, there really is one.  

Where?

There, right in front of us in the sky.

I looked and right before my eyes was indeed an Osprey.

It was facing us, hanging in the light wind, high above the water of the smaller basin known as Farmoor One, its great wings spread wide.

It slowly circled the basin and we watched it reconnoitering the placid waters below for a trout.

There is no shortage of fish as Thames Water, at vast expense, stock the reservoir's two basins each year with trout for which fishermen pay a fee to catch.

For fifteen minutes the Osprey circled, rising and falling but always at some height, checking every inch of the water below, both near and far.

On three occasions it looked to have seen a fish and would stall then half retract  its wngs and dive for the water, each time without success although on two occasions it actually plunged into the water. Definitely an inexperienced bird but practice makes perfect.

Undeterred it would rise from the reservoir, shake off the water from its plumage and commence gaining height to circle once again, head facing down to the water searching, searching, only one thing on its mind -food

A fourth dive came, followed by an explosion of spray as it disappeared underwater only to as suddenly  re-emerge with a small fish in its talons, then lifting off it ruffled the water from its feathers and flew to a distant tree on Wytham Hill to consume its meagre prize.

The Osprey was a young bird hatched this year, told by the buff fringes to its upperwing feathers. It has come from most probably Scotland or possibly further north in Scandinavia. Being a juvenile, newly independent and inexperienced it is having to learn quickly so I suppose to catch a fish no matter what size is a step in the right direction and bodes well for the future. Let's hope so. 

This will be its first flight south with still a long way to migrate to its winter home in southern Africa and it will not return, all being well until the year after next. The hazards facing it are many but for now all is well. 

Farmoor Reservoir Double 2nd September 2025

Mark (P) and myself spent the morning at an unexpectedly deserted Slimbridge WWT. I suppose the reason being the schools have gone back and rain was predicted.

Certainly the conditions for viewing were less than ideal with a murky gloom settling over the grounds and the River Severn beyond. We saw a Wood Sandpiper distantly and Mark got very excited about a free flying Black Swan which, while very striking in flight, I informed him he could not count.

Whilst touring the grounds we learned that a juvenile male Garganey had been discovered at our local Farmoor Reservoir  this same morning and with little else to see at Slimbridge we departed the grounds at around noon, intent on heading for Farmoor.

Coming back over the Cotswolds the weather took a turn for the worse with rain manifesting itself as a low lying wet mist, blanketing the hills and limiting visibility. Depressingly it looked set for the day but as we got near to my home in northwest Oxfordshire it lifted and the weather now looked like it would only bring infrequent rain showers interspersed with dry spells and even sunshine

At least there was no wind to speak of.

It was grey but dry when we arrived at the reservoir in the early afternoon and knowing the Garganey was at the far western end of the causeway we set off to see it. As we walked a post came on the Oxon Bird Forum about an adult Little Gull being found by Thomas M on the larger  basin of the reservoir but we were unsure of where.Scanning from the central causeway we could see no sign of any gull apart from the regular Yellow legged and Herring Gulls feasting on a dead fish that had washed up at the water's edge

I checked for the Little Stint as we made our way along the causeway but that had gone so I suggested to Mark we prioritise the Garganey, then return and look for the Little Gull which we learned was in the company of some Black headed Gulls at the other, eastern end of the causeway that we had just left. Frustratingly we had almost walked right past the gull but as we did not know about it that was hardly unexpected.

The Garganey was easily discovered, squatting on the concrete shelving by the water,  a noticeably small duck in the company of some larger dozing Mallard and a couple of Canada Geese and not at all phased by our close proximity.It made a brief excursion onto the water but soon returned to land.

A shake of its feathers revealed a blue grey forewing confirming it as a male and judging by the freshness of the rest of its feathers it was a juvenile.

That really was all there was to it. For once everything had gone to plan and after taking the requisite photos and admiring this diminutive summer migrant duck we made haste back to the corner of the larger basin to try our luck with the Little Gull.

We were halfway down the causeway when we noticed an ominous grey cloud that carried an imminent threat of rain and which duly delivered but thankfully both of us had had the presence of mind to don waterproof jackets in anticipation of such when we had arrived at the reservoir. Even so the rain managed to inflict its customary misery on us as we traversed the exposed causeway but we soldiered on determined to do our best to see the Little Gull.The rain passed as quickly as it arrived and we were now confronted with dazzling sunshine, the  sunlight turning the waters a shimmering mercury like silver.

Getting to where the Little Gull had been seen earlier I asked another birder if he had seen the gull.

No, was the rather too abrupt reply.

We checked a scattering of Black headed Gulls hunting a shoal of small fish just offshore and which the Little Gull had apparently been  associating with earlier but now we could find no sign of its presence. 

We were on our own now and looking into the sun, consequently all I was in fact checking were silhouettes of Black headed Gulls on the water.Not at all satisfactory but it did not matter as none were our prize bird. 

Had it gone in the rain or moved elsewhere on the reservoir?

Then a gull flew above the other gulls sat on the water, it looked markedly small and as it  flew closer, banked and I could see it had diagnostic black underwings. We had found the adult Little Gull. 

Initially the gull  was quite distant and the sun having turned the waters to a very similar colour to the small white gull, made picking it out flying at long range difficult but we were not about to give up. It eventually settled at the back of the other gulls to sit on the water doing very little and becoming even harder to detect.

We could wait. 

We lingered for quite some time and then it flew back alongside the reservoir wall to the concrete hardstanding by the causeway, somewhat whimsically known to the yachting fraternity as  'the beach'  and from where they launch their sailing dinghys  and here was the opportunity I craved to get some images and admire this most delicate and tern like of gulls.

It showed little fear at my or anyone else's close presence, flying around a large red buoy, prospecting the shallow water and every so often crash landing in the water with wings raised to seize a small fish.

It was feisty and if a Black headed Gull threatened it, brooked no nonsense, responding with thrusting open bill and spread wings. Mind you it sometimes went the other way!

It ceased flying around and settled to stand at the edge of the hardstanding for a long time  before flying to a nearby landing stage and going to sleep there with some other gulls.

Little Gulls are regular annual passage migrants at the reservoir in variable but small numbers, mainly in Spring and occasionally at other times single birds can and do turn up but rarely if ever come as near as this individual and grant such close views for such a prolonged period.

The Little Gull is the smallest gull in the world and breeds on fresh water lakes and marshes from northern Scandinavia and the eastern Baltic to eastern Siberia. They spend the winter at sea along the coasts of Europe as far south as the Mediterranean, Black and Caspian Seas. Exceptionally in 2016, a pair successfully bred at the RSPB's Loch of Strathbeg reserve in Aberdeenshire, Scotland but that remains the sole breeding record for Britain.

Looking to the southwest we could see another build up of cloud signifying impending rain so we took the sensible option of leaving the exposed reservoir.