Pallas's Leaf Warbler, Filey, 3rd Oct '24
3rd
After four days guiding in the Spurn area (more on that to follow), I had a window of opportunity on Thursday (til mid-afternoon, when guests were arriving) to catch up with office and domestic stuff back in York. But, the weather looked very promising - calm and sunny after more rain and north-easterlies - and I just couldn't resist the coast again....
As regular readers can probably tell I've been making the most of any opportunity to soak up migration of late, in what has been an especially fruitful autumn so far - and whether guiding, surveying or hitting my favourite spots on the coast purely for pleasure (a regular occurrence recently), it's been particularly productive and enjoyable. After all, the winds could swing west for the rest of the season, and I'd only regret not making hay while the sun shines...
So, Filey it was, with the sun shining and barely a breath of wind on arrival. For the next seven hours or so, I enjoyed a wonderful, vitamin D-fuelled day patrolling the northern coastal area (mainly the Country Park). Rarely do such ideal viewing conditions conicide with so many migrants, but when they do, there's nothing like getting in the zone and methodically sifting through the by-now-slightly-wilting leafy edges and canopies; Goldcrests, Blackcaps and Robins everywhere, enough in their own right, but also providing the defaults by which to try and isolate something a little more unusual.
Willow Warbler
With such arrivals along the coast either side of me inspiring even closer attentions, after a couple of hours it was a thrill to focus on a gleaming, almost neon Pallas's Leaf Warbler skillfully picking off spiders while hovering below a sycamore leaf - a bit of a surprise (given the early date for a traditionally later-in-the-season species), but very much the right kind of surprise, and one that causes an involuntary gasp and then very satisfied exhalation.
Of all the scarce and rare species from Siberia I've been lucky enough to find on the Yorkshire coast, if I'm absolutely honest, for pure charisma and aesthetic beauty, Pallas's Warblers are, er, top of the tree: as dinky and buzzy as Goldcrests, but with with an underside of silver and an upperside of vibrant greens and yellows, converging on a multi-striped, oversized Kawaii-style head. Unbeatable.
In fact, the only thing better than a Pallas's is two Pallas's, which, a couple of hours later, is exactly what happened (and I was able to confirm thanks to visiting birders watching the first simultaneously - thank the gods for visiting birders here, eh?!); most rewardingly, the second bird appeared as a fresh wave of migrants swept through in the early afternoon, having materialised from (literally) out of the blue. A beautiful day, in all respects.
4th
Back home for mid-afternoon to hook up with our dear friends the Perlmans, over from Israel for a couple of days and nights; a lovely evening followed, which included some delicate negotiating, resulting in permission granted for Yoav and I to slip away to the coast for a few hours on Friday (yesterday) morning (thanks Amity, Adva and the kids ;-).
Tree Sparrow
Revelling in my coastal roving of late and not fussed about which of my favoured locations to hit, Yoav chose Flamborough, and as another beautiful sunny day dawned, we found ourselves at Old Fall, and straight into birds. The hedge was busy, with a flighty, vocal Little Bunting being the highlight, before a long, memorable session on the sunny, sheltered, southern side of the wood and hedge (with John B for much of the time - incredibly, the only other birder on site).
Yellow-browed Warbler
This enchanted corner of Old Fall can be a very special place under the right circumstances - and these were exactly the right circumstances. John had already had at least one more Little Bunting, plus lots of commoner migrants, in the area by the time we arrived, and waves of birds were passing through - literally in many cases, as we watched not just finches, thrushes and buntings, but also warblers and 'crests heading west out of cover.
As is so often the case here, it can be seemingly almost birdless for ten, even twenty minutes, and then bang, it kicks off almost out of nowhere. And so it was for our joy of a 90 minute session here: a vocal Richard's Pipit west, one (perhaps two) Little Buntings in the hedge, an equally vocal Red-breasted Flycatcher, a Firecrest, at least five Yellow-browed Warblers (often interacting / chasing each other), tons of 'crests, Blackcaps and Chaffinches, plus Bramblings, Redwings, Song Thrushes, Skylarks and more on the move.
Happy birders
Our time was up, we'd had our fill, and our morning was one of those hit-and-run sessions (well, more grin-and-stand) that are great on your own - as at Filey the day before - but sometimes even better when you get to share it with a good friend who you don't see anywhere nearly enough.
