Catching up with trans-Saharan migrants on the east coast in spring is often easier said than done, and - unless you're lucky enough to be out there most days - they can often elude you well after the first waves have arrived. Wheatears are a classic case in point, and with few opportunities to bird on the coast thus far this spring, they've given me the body-swerve (meaning I've had Willow Warblers, Whitethroats, Yellow Wagtails etc. before them....).
So, weirdly, my first of the year were in the Scottish valleys, flitting along the tracks down Strathdearn and elsewhere; a reflection of my lifestyle and schedule these days (of which i've no complaints). But with a couple of hours free for birding at Eyemouth on the way back down from the Highlands - see last post - I was hopeful of catching up with one, or more, back on the coast.
Which turned out to be an absolute joy of a session on the very edge of the coast, where the tightly-mown golf course meets the jagged rocks and breaking waves. In warm sunshine, I found a handful of birds frequenting this small area, with one in particular proving to be outrageously tame.
I approached with caution, but when it ran towards me, I soon realised it was one of those birds that gave less than a flying one about my presence as it fed avidly on grubs dug up from just beneath the grass.
After a while I lay down on my front, and before long, the bird was feeding literally around my head; the photos here were taken while it was still in camera range, and before it got way too close, which is when I put the camera down and just relished the experience. So close I could hear its bill clacking gently between forays, it was a long time before I got up and reluctantly moved on, leaving it and the others to continue feeding up for their ongoing journeys.
Absolute magic.
