A welcome invasion - Filey, 30th Sep '26

One of.... many 

 

Six Song Thrushes arriving (in six seconds!) in off the sea 

Alright, in light of the fact I'm getting further and further behind here (legitimate excuses of full-on working / guiding, failing to shake off an annoying virus, and any other limited spare time spent birding), a quick summary of a really lovely seven-hours-plus yesterday, lapping up some fine incoming migration at my favourite coastal patch of Filey.

I only got back to York after a week guiding at Spurn late the night before (more on that to follow soon), and prior to that, I was in Scotland delivering our School of Birding Deep Dive Specials (more on that to follow, well, soon....), and despite having lots to attend to (and not feeling great), I couldn't resist....

The previous day saw the first magic switch to an easterly wind so far this autumn, and boy, did it deliver (check back soon for that Spurn entry!); today, the forecast was for strengthening south-easterlies, veering south-south-east, with the chance of storm fronts moving through. Opportunity knocks!

A few broken hours sleep later and I was parking up at Carr Naze shortly after dawn. Action was immediate; within five minutes or so, I'd watched lots of Redwings, Meadow Pipits, Song Thrushes, Reed Buntings and others bombing in off the sea ond over / past my head, and a Lapland Bunting trilled close by and inland. Game on.

It could really have gone either way, and I was half-expecting a fairly muted wander strutinising the cover for whatever leftovers were still lingering from yesterday's arrival. Long story short, it very much went the right way, and I was instantly locked in to my favourite mode - slow clifftop patrols, scanning and listening, pausing and strolling and pausing again. 

With at least a few hours to enjoy, I opted for long sessions on the wizened joke-shop-witches-finger of Carr Naze and its wild and weedy plateau flanked by steep slopes and crumbling cliffs, permeated by sessions checking nearby scrub and hedgerows. By mid-afternoon, I'd enjoyed an excellent quantity and quality of continental immigration, with many highlights...

... but there was only one real headline-grabber today - the beautiful Song Thrush, in its almost endless battling droves.

But for that initial arrival of Redwings early on, almost every other thrush between dawn and mid-afternoon was a Song Thrush - and my, there were a great many arriving. By the time I had to drag myself away, I'd a (bare) minimum of 842 having made it in off the sea, not including the masses in the bushes and scrub (which totalled another 300 or so, but will have included some overlap).

Many were in singles, many more were in small parties of two to five, and many others were in larger flocks of up to fifty - not a common scenario at all with this species, and clearly a rare occurence, at least in recent autumns. They arrived, across a broad front, channelling magically onto or along the flanks of Carr Naze - Filey at it's absolute, hypnotic best - whatever the conditions:

In sunshine, cloud, and (most numerously) when several storm fronts passed over, which - combined with a strong south-south-easterly - channelled the birds lower, over the waves and whipping up onto the Brigg. Some prolonged stretches saw a constant stream of birds arriving, some of which were literaly crash-landing onto the slopes in front of me.

There were plenty of other species arriving with them, including two Lapland Buntings (several hours apart), plenty of Skylarks, Starlings, a Wheatear, 28 Chaffinches, no fewer than 52 Bramblings, plus Redpolls, Rock Pipits, Siskins and Reed Buntings and among others; a pair of Ravens, in from the north were, amazingly, the first I've ever had in Filey.

In the scrub, bushes and hedgerows, well, it was again all about the thrushes - hundreds of them, ticking softly from every available piece of cover, ably backed up by Robins (up to 50 in the area, including many fresh-in on the slopes of Carr Naze) and many Chiffys. Scarcer species included a Ring Ouzel, a Pied Flycatcher, two Redstarts and at least two Yellow-browed Warblers - classic late September fare sprinkled throughout the day.

Robins facing off on the cliff slope (having only just arrived)

Ravens (above), Brambling (below)

A couple of very tired Chaffinches

Redstarts on Carr Naze

North Killingholme, Lincs - 23rd Sep '26

Just back from another fabulous ten days in the Highlands, delivering our School of Birding Deep Dives (more on that shortly), and straight back to work surveying on the south bank of the Humber.

Pink-footed Geese, fresh in from Iceland and beyond 

The morning was characterised by passerine migration - Swallows, Meadow Pipits and Chaffinches on the move along the river, and lots of Chiffchaffs in the bushes.

A fair amount of the afternoon was spent at Winter's Pond, a minute or two north as the crow flies. What a lovely place to break up the river counts, with lots of wildfowl - a single Pintail, small flocks of Shoveler, Tufted Ducks, Wigeon, Teal, and Mallard - and fantastically vocal skeins of Pink-footed Geese dropping in and moving on.

Three Marsh Harriers (presumably a local family, pictured here with Shovelers and Black-tailed Godwits) entertained consistently, while Black-tailed Godwits, Snipe and two Ruff dropped onto the pond's edge.

Back at North Killingholme, good numbers of Avocets, Redshanks, Curlew, Dunlin Black-tailed Godwits and Teal gathered to roost.

One of many Chiffchaffs in the scrub

Spot the Ruff.....

Wigeon and a single Shoveler

Migrants (very) welcome - Killingholme, 10th Sep '26

Back on the industrial South bank of the mighty Humber again today, surveying my stretch of the river - which, these pages tell me, has been the case for eight years now...

An unusually accommodating Cetti's Warbler 

Today (particularly this morning) was wonderfully busy birdwise, with a light southerly and cumulus cloud; after the typically grim commute from York, I was greeted by thousands of waders on the reserve and pleasingly active bushes, clearly holding migrant warblers; after my first full count, I pished out a healthy cast - Sedge, Reed, Garden, Willow, Chiffs, Cetti's and Blackcaps.

Not bad for an isolated, slightly crappy area of scrub sandwiched between factories, container ships and the muddy banks of the river - although that's surely why it attracts migrant passerines at certain times of year.

Common Buzzards on the move throughout the late morning 

Up in the clouds, my first skein of Pink-footed Geese yapped enthusiastically south-west (autumn's really here), and a passage of Common Buzzards soon developed - I had a minimum of 12 kettling ever higher and drifting south. Lovely stuff.

All of which was quite enough, but on the river, the waders multiplied as the tide slipped out - thousands of Black-tailed Godwits, hundreds of Avocets, plus Knot, Common Sandpiper, Ringed Plovers, Oystercatcher, many Curlews, and a small group of Dunlins: worth a grilling despite being a bit far out and in the heat haze.

PINKS! 

 Bingo - a beautiful juvenile Little Stint feeding with them (though only for 15 minutes or so).

  

Other signs of migration included a juvenile Pintail gunning south, lots of gulls on the move (including pristeen juvenile Common Gulls), a young Peregrine hunting Avocets, and visible migration continuing with lots of Swallows, Meadow Pipits, a few Yellow Wagtails, Linnets and Reed Buntings. A Clouded Yellow came in off the river, and I also snuck in an 8k run, in ideal conditions....

Opportunities for soaking up coastal migration - as regular readers will know, pretty much my favourite thing on this mortal coil - are greatly lessened these days, and with little chance to make the most of the last few weeks (a strong wave of early autumn landbird arrivals, followed by quality seawatching), I appreciate these 'work' days even more. No complaints - life changes, for good reasons - just a recallibration of expectations.

Full eBird checklist here. 
 

Sedge Warblers (above), Reed Warbler (below)

Chiffchaff (above), Reed Warbler and Blackcap (below)

More Cetti's!

Avocets, Black-tailed Godwits, Pintail

Back on the boat - Staithes Pelagic, 7th Sep '26

Well, that was a joy. Longer term readers will know I've been leading our YCN Seabird and Whale Adventures out of Staithes, North Yorkshire for many years now; until relatively recently, that meant many trips per season between July and the end of September. In recent years, however, our extended summer holidays in the US have lengthened, and this year was a full six weeks - meaning I have to sacrifice many of the available sailings and hope for clement conditions for when I return.

This year is particularly awkward for leading the boat trips, not only for the US excursion, but also a big chunk of September in Scotland for our School of Birding Deep Dives (more on that to follow); throw in the vagaries of the weather (and inevitable cancellations) into the mix, and it's one or two at best this season.

With that in mind - and with Rich having a really productive season on the boat so far this year (see here) - I couldn't wait to climb down the ladder for today's adventure.

With a lovely team on board (in more ways than one - full of enthusiasm and fully engaged!), we set out of the harbour and into a fairly bumpy North Sea - and it took us less than four minutes to clock our first Minke, right by the side of the boat.....

... and for the next five hours, we wandered around within a six mile radius, enjoying lots of whales; better still, many were close-up, by the boat, and for extended periods, which is such a privilege and a joy to share with our clients.

As well as the whales, there were plenty of birds to enjoy - nothing too extraordinary, but three juvenile Caspian Gulls, hundreds of terns, some lovely Little Gulls, a Peregrine hunting a passing Teal flock way offshore, Manxies, plenty of Arctic Skuas, Puffins among many auks, two Snipe low over the waves and inland from far out, Scoters on the move and much more.

Arctic Skua (above), Puffin (below)

Peregrine (above), Little Gulls (below)

Guillemot (above), Caspian Gull (below)