Filey - 2nd & 3rd November '26 (with an appetizer Arctic Roll)

Alright, time for a quick recap, and then into the last few days of quality coastal birding....

Coues's Arctic Redpoll, Carr Naze, 3rd November '26 

It's been a very busy autumn - as they always are these days - with guiding, surveying and the School of Birding all (happily) taking up much of the season; coupled with the fact I've been living in York for two years now, the reality is I only get a fraction of the opportunity to hit the coast compared to the preceding twelve years, when good birding began (literally) on my doorstep.

But that's life, good decisions made and no regrets, and I didn't exactly waste my time when I was there.... (For my article in British Birds magazine summarising my time living and birding at Filey, click here for a free download).

Grey Partridges, Rocket Pole Field 

Scroll through my last dozen or so posts (in the right hand column) and you'll see a by-now familar autumnal mix of guiding summaries from Spurn, Flamborough and elsewhere, a School of Birding or two (usually based in the Highlands), scattered surveying days (often on the Humber or thereabouts), and then these entries - i.e., personal birding days on the coast.

Short-eared Owl arriving in off the sea on 2nd (above and below) 

These are of course dependent on opportunity: not just in the sense of time off, but also in the distance involved - while a prerequisite of moving here was that we still needed to be within striking distance of the coast, there is of course no more "just nipping out for half an hour" (one of my more annoying and overused catchphrases, as my wife will doubtless testify).

So what used to be carpet-bombing is now a case of surgical strikes; hence, I appreciate my coastal birding even more. Not that I didn't during my twelve years living there, and as anyone who knows me will tell you, I'm eternally grateful for, well, every single birding opportunity I had; now, however, these opportunities are even more precious and I savour them to the hilt.

Little Egret arriving in off, 2nd 

Back to the near-present, and a couple of sessions sneaked in at the end of October were pleasant dress rehearsals for this week - steadfastly blocked off on the calendar off long ago, and mercifully resistant to accepting work (the guilt-ridden curse of being self-employed).

But as regular readers will know, this is unequivocally my favourite time of year for birding on the Yorkshire coast, and I was going to bird the hell out of it, whatever the weather. Naturally, as the week approached, my checking and re-checking of the weather forecasts intensified; surely those easterlies, stretching from as far as western Russia and western Asia, wouldn't hold? Or would they?

Jay in off, 3rd

While I've varied my choice of locations to keep life interesting in recent years, Filey has the strongest pull, for various reasons - including the fact I do plenty of autumn guiding at Spurn and Flamborough, it's the nearest coastal hotspot (under 55 mins), it's the most accessible (and birder-free) of all the best spots, and in truth, it has a birding grip on me that is nigh on impossible to loosen thus far.

Come the 2nd, and I drove through for first light, and with the winds in the north (and no apparent arrival of landbirds), I perched on the end of Carr Naze for a seawatch. A heavy passage of Kittiwakes (almost 3,000) and Little Gulls (over 300) were highlights, as were lots of Auks (including a single Little Auk), wildfowl (including two Velvet Scoters), two Med Gulls, two Great Northern Divers and more besides; after lunch, incoming arrivals included two Short-eared Owls and two Little Egrets among others.

Circuits of the clifftops and nearby cover revealed very little in the way of new arrivals, but overnight, the winds swung into the north-east as forecast - a direct line over the North Sea from Scandinavia and beyond.

A first calendar year Kittiwake over the Country Park (and my car) 

Back up onto Carr Naze early on (I could drive the A64 with my eyes closed at this point), and a modest selection of new arrivals on the first of many patrols - hardly the hoped-for fall (which never really came during the week), but pulses of finches, a few thrushes, and then a Jay in-off and ridiculously close.

A little while later, another patrol of the coastal path, and bang - a snowball descending from above and onto the cliff edge. Aware of how flighty freshly-arrived redpolls can be, and also of how nuanced their (sub)specific ID can be, I was praying for conclusive views before it inevitably exited the exposed runway of Carr Naze for more fruitful habitat.

Which, luckily, I managed, with a bit of stealthy fieldcraft and subsequently excellent views (if not photographs). Frosty overall, plain white undertail coverts, stonking suger-cube rump, tiny bill, distinct face pattern - Coues's Arctic Redpoll, a bird I've been trying to find here for many years. Bingo.

Two Lapland Buntings in off, a Siberian Chiffchaff in Arndale and a scattering of other migrants (including a handful of Mealy Redpolls) was otherwise as good as it got for the rest of the day, but with great views of a bird I've long since tried and failed to nail here, all was well with the world.

Back out on the 4th? Absolutely..... watch this space!

Grey Partridges (above), summer-plumaged Great Northern Diver in the bay (below)

Twite Riot - Filey, 29th October '26

NB: for those of you tuning in for an update on the events of the last few days, check back in soon - I'm desperately trying to keep it chronological! 

(Click on images to enlarge) 

There's been a notable Twite influx in the UK - particular on east-facing coasts - towards the end of October, and I was hoping to cash in back at Filey while patrolling the clifftops and surrounding areas for freshly-arrived migrants on 29th.

After inwardly cursing dog-walkers for flushing two birds which dropped onto the path on Carr Naze, and then clocking a flock of ten heading south, that may very well have been it....

Returning to the car for a lunch break, three small finches were hopping around between parked vehicles. Goldfinches, or (more likely) Linnets, surely? Not so - three of the tamest Twite I've ever had the pleasure of enjoying, practically immovable, despite humans, dogs and engines.

Little beauties!

Filey, 29th & 31st October '26

In the spirit of trying to be more comprehensive on these here pages (especially during migration periods), here's the first of a run of posts from coastal birding exploits during the late October / early November window - kicking off with two recent sessions at Filey.

A solid four hours plus on the morning of the 29th before plans back in York were sunny and clear, and steady at best as a consequence - small numbers of thrushes, finches, buntings, good numbers of Skylarks, plus a scattering of Robins and Chiffs in the bushes; large, vocal flocks of Pink-footed Geese (totalling 360, above) and a substantial, noisy flock of Whooper Swans early on (below) were a joy....

.... as were at least 15 Twite - two on Carr Naze, ten south, and then three absurdly tame birds which warrant their own post (to be uploaded shortly). Another few hours sneaked in before commitments on 31st were of a similar ilk, although more Redwings, Starlings, Meadow Pipits, Blackbirds and Skylarks were incoming, 14 Grey Partridges were in the Rocket Pole Field, and a flock of ten Long-tailed Tits flew high out to sea....

... before eventually thinking better of it and u-turning back onto Carr Naze.

As November beckoned, as did genuine time off and northerlies swinging into easterlies - but would they provide? Stay tuned....

Below - Blackcap in Top Scrub, Grey Partridges in the Rocket Pole Field

Spurn, 19th - 23rd October '26

Continental Robin, Bluethroat and Chiffchaff feeding together in the same small ditch - classic Spurn! Click on images to enlarge 

(For places on my upcoming Spurn Migration Specials, please see HERE) 

Another manic, entertaining, bird- and memory-filled week guiding at Spurn - my third week there this year (a poor showing - back up to the usual five next year!) - just as the prevailing blustery south-westerlies call a unceremonious halt to the circus of migration we've enjoyed on the Yorkshire coast in recent days.

Short-eared Owl - one of many during the week, most of which arrived in off the sea 

So, you could say the timing of my week there (pre-booked well over a year ago) was impeccable, just like my week there in September; crappy low pressures and south-westerlies before and after, but a dominant easterly airflow for me and my clients (a different team every day, many of whom travelled from far and wide especially for their day with me - no pressure then....).

Wonderfully tame male Snow Bunting at the Warren

Setting off from York in the dark on the early morning of the 19th, the day held much promise, with the wind suddenly but firmly in the eastern half of the compass, where it remain for much of the week; arriving in Kilnsea as dawn broke, there were already very positive signs, as Redwings tsseeeped overhead and Blackbirds bounded along hedgerows in loose, unruly gangs.

Dark-bellied Brent Geese at the breach

It was a day - and a week - of arrivals, in terms of abundance, variety, and quality, of species that you'd hope for on the east coast at this time of year, if the winds are favourable. On that first day, Redwings, Song Thrushes and (especially) Blackbirds arrived in their droves, Tomato-soupy Robins were absolutely everywhere, Russian White-fronted Geese were on the move (and seen every day), Chiffs, Blackcaps, 'crests and other hardy little passerines occupied cover....

Stoat at the Warren

.. while above us, visible migration was often impressive; as well as the thrushes, Skylarks, Bramblings, Siskins, Redpolls, Goldfinches, Meadow Pipits, Reed Buntings, multitudes of Starlings and much more, the incomparable sight of Short-eared Owls arriving in off the sea was a memorable feature of several days (and kickstarted the week's guiding literally as I was gathering the team on the first morning at the Bluebell car park).

 

Woodcocks - a genuine rival to the owls in terms of iconic incomers over the waves - were also a memorable feature of most days, with birds either careening in over the waves or exploding out of cover on many occasions.

One of god knows how many European Robins seen and heard through the week - most were classic tomato-soupy continental birds 

Each day was of course different, in every sense - conditions, species dynamics and abundance, people on the team (six different intrepid souls awaiting their fate every morning) - which not only makes every one of my Spurn Migration Specials unique, it also keeps it more than interesting for me. Reading the weather, and the room, keeps me on alert and hopefully at the top of my guiding game.

Caught in the middle of my Here's-why-Spurn-is-so-great-for-migration sand art lecture on the beach (thanks Penny!) 

Keener birders will know there were plenty of rarities and scarcities in the area, and along the coast, throughout the week. Did we chase after them? Of course not! (Well, with one honourable exception - see below). While I fully understand the attraction - and indeed why other groups, with different priorities, would choose to do so - it's generally not for me, and more pertinently, it's generally not what makes my YCN days special for the teams involved.

We welcome a pleasingly broad spectrum of birders - from absolute beginners to seasoned pros, and everywhere in between - and my focus for my groups is on making the day as much of a holistic adventure in the joys of bird migration as I possibly can. This can, and does, involve finding and/or enjoying rarer and scarcer birds, of course; but only if they fit into the jigsaw of a rich and varied day in the field.

Have some more Bluethroat

My emphasis is (and always will be) on delivering as many flavours of the magic of bird migration as I can, without dragging my teams around all over the shop; indeed, my Spurn Specials, like most of my other YCN Birding Discovery Days, are entirely on foot. We meet at the Bluebell carpark on the very edge of the coastline (convenient not only as a meeting place and base, but also for the aformentioned arriving owls, Woodcocks and more), and from there, it's a bespoke day of various hotspots, habitats, places and birds.

We have a great relationship with the good people of Spurn Bird Observatory (and donate a percentage of our Spurn guiding takings to the Obs every year), which also means we have free access to all the best, hidden corners of the area, as well as the privilege of enjoying the ringing at several spots. Paul, Rob and a whole host of helpful locals (you know who you are!) contribute greatly to the enjoyment and wonder experienced by my teams, and i'm very grateful to all of you for your always warm welcome and sharing your knowledge and passion!

Snow Bunting

So, back to the birding. As mentioned, each day is different - and it's a testement to how wonderful the landbird migration was throughout the week that, for the first time ever (and that's a lot of Spurn guiding weeks), I didn't even make it to the wetlands...! The Kilnsea area was more than enough, with various combinations of all the hotspots in the Triangle, as well as the coastal stretch, the Warren, the peninsula, the Obs and of course the mighty Humber estuary occupying our days.

Shortie

As well as the glorious spectrum of commoner migratory species enjoyed, we also bumped into plenty of scarcities: Siberian Chiffchaff, Barred, Dusky and Yellow-browed Warblers spring to mind, and less common treats included Long-eared Owl, Snow Buntings, White-fronted and Tundra Bean Geese, Ring Ouzel, Jack Snipe and more. For many, though, the bird of the week was a fabulous Bluethroat in Corner Field, which we found on the afternoon of day one - and which happily stayed for several days, entertaining four of my groups (and apparently hundreds of others!) throughout the week.

Speaking of jazzy little chats with fancy gullets, we did make an exception on day four... as news came through on the radio of a certain Ruby-throated banger more than halfway down the peninsula, I contextualised the situation, and circumstances, to my hastily assembled team for the day. Unusually - the normal approach being that of a benevolant dictatorship (!) - I offered all alternatives, and put it to the vote. Everybody was up for it, and so off we marched, down the beach and through the dunes....

No Siberian jewel for us (nor for all the other hopefuls who made the effort!), but it mattered not; we had a glorious few hours of big, bird-filled Spurn skies, loads of highlights (three Short-eared Owls in off the sea, a point-blank White-fronted Goose, droves of finches and thrushes gunning down the peninsula, Goldcrests and Robins practically on our shoes, etc). And that, in a nutshell, is why I think all my days at Spurn are special - all unique, and all magical.

And this is all against the hypnotising, beautiful backdrop of the swirling masses of waders on the Humber - Golden Plovers, Knot, Grey Plovers, Dunlins, Ringed Plovers, Black- and Bar-tailed Godwits, Curlews, Redshanks, Oystercatchers and more in their mesmerising multitudes; which anywhere else would be enough on their own.

   

Ok, so I might've made a three-minute detour on the way home to see this beautiful beast.....) 

Thank you Spurn (and your good people and great birds!) - see you in the spring.