Filey, 14th - 30th April 2015

With May in full swing, time for a catch-up for the second half of April here on the patch. Conditions were unfortunately rarely very promising over the course of the fortnight, with no warm, gentle southerly airflows to inspire broad-winged wanderings, no classic passerine fall conditions, and little to encourage notable movements on the sea; hence, it was a question of mixing it up and hoping for the best.

Brisk west-south-westerlies for 15th looked good for visible migration, and three early morning hours later at my favoured clifftop vantage point I'd enjoyed a male Ring Ouzel (above) coasting north at eye level, two Corn Buntings (a locally scarce bird), plenty of Sand Martins and Swallows, the year's first House Martins, two White Wagtails on the neighbouring golf course and good numbers of finches on the move, including over 300 Linnets.

It wasn't to last, however, and the next few days were very quiet for migrants (but for a pair of Little Ringed Plovers dropping in at East Lea), and included lengthy, almost blank seawatches in strong northerlies, reinforcing just how quiet this time of year can be on the sea. Common migrants continued to trickle in quietly, plenty of firsts-for-the-year arrived, and two gorgeous male Greenland-type Wheatears on the Tip on 21st were a reminder of how far some trans-Saharan migrants still have to go after reaching us.

Despite trying to prove otherwise by hammering the patch with a robotic mania in recent Aprils, overshooting spring scarcities are a genuine anomaly at Filey; still, blind faith and/or dogged persistence were bound to pay off one day, and pay off they surely did on 22nd. A 'dark-headed' wagtail with a strange call dropping in at the back of East Lea was exactly the kind of reason I'd been camping out there with metronomic repetition, and to be confronted with a spanking male Spanish Wagtail was well beyond expectations. More on this to follow, but it's the kind of bird that instantly refills a gradually emptying tank in the blink of an eye.

The same day provided the first singing Cuckoo of the year and two more White Wags, before a quiet 23rd preceded a better 24th; warm sunshine encouraged warblers and hirundines to take centre stage, and high up in the blue above Carr Naze, two Red Kites and an early Hobby shared the same airspace in the late morning. Messier, cooler conditions over the next few days were generally unremarkable, but more patience at East Lea for several hours on 29th was again repaid in full by a cracking male Grey-headed Wagtail within a constant changeover of flavas, totaling at least 17 for the session.

Of the year list? Well, without going into too much detail, I'm unlikely to be breaking any records.... to do so I'd need some luck, swift and/or widespread co-operation, and ultimately more time in the field, and only one of those factors is realistically subject to change over the rest of the year (and here's hoping it does sooner rather than later!). The irony of two rare wagtails - very likely the highlight of the spring, and possibly also the year (re: iberiae) - not qualifying as additions isn't lost on me, but it is at least a humbling reminder of the arbitrary quirks of taxonomy...

Patch list (as of 5th May) - 127

Grey-headed Wagtail, Filey - 29th & 30th April 2014

Ever get the feeling a theme is developing? After last week's (apparent) Spanish Wagtail - which seems to get better and better the more research and feedback it inspires (more on this soon) - I've been checking the marshy fringes of our modest but always promising little East Lea reserve pretty much daily (and indeed for many days before, but then seeing nothing makes for a less interesting narrative).



Scrutinising the changeover of Wagtails has been mighty entertaining, as it was on maybe my twentieth auto-scan of the far shore on the afternoon of 29th; amazingly, looking like an imposter in a Batman mask, a cracking male Grey-headed Wagtail M.f.thunbergi had materialised, strutting around nonchalantly in the company of a few male flavissimas.



While not quite as off-the-radar exotic as its Iberian predecessor, it's still a rare bird, with only one or two claimed annually in Yorkshire in recent years, and only one other record from Filey this century (in 2007). The bird was present again briefly yesterday (30th) but not today (1st), but with all of May still to come, it's a safe bet I'll be looking for the next continental flava with some relish....

A distinctly British Flava

One of those memorable occasions when it's just you and a beautiful bird which suddenly materialises out of nowhere, and the bird seems not care (in this case, dropping in just a couple of metres away and bursting into song before heading on its way). Even taking into account recent events, is there a smarter subspecies of Yellow Wagtail than flavissima?

(Putative) Spanish Wagtail, Filey - 22nd April 2015

A brief, clearly exotic and pattern-fitting overshoot to the sun-kissed east coast this afternoon, specifically East Lea, a small reserve close to the Dams (my new 'office' for the spring - expect more over-the-laptop drop-ins forthcoming). Flava minefields notwithstanding, all the features (to the best of my knowledge) fit Spanish, including the call.... more to follow.

Up close with Filey's Barn Owls

Barely a day's birding has gone by over recent weeks here Filey that hasn't been illuminated by at least one of these beautiful beasts hunting close by. After a very successful breeding season last year, we have several pairs in the area and a comparitively thriving local population.

On the face of it, an increase in encounters may imply the more the better and all is well, but it seems likely that such a sudden surge in day-hunting may actually suggest quite the opposite. Voles - a principle food source - experience boom-and-bust population cycles, and after the former, the latter is now due, and our Barn Owls may well be trying to compensate for this. How they fare is open to question, but for now, it's a real privilege to have them so close at hand.

The day the circus came to town

Spring is finally, truly kicking in here in the frozen north, and so time to start catching up on the activities of recent weeks. The latter part of March and the first week or so of April were low key bird-wise (although two early Sand Martins on 24th were a pleasure), but then it can often be an especially uneventful time of year, exacerbated by the expectation of what lies ahead. Add assignments, writing up sections for bird reports and back-to-back visits from two sets of old friends and their delightful kids to the mix, and there wasn't a great deal of patch activity to speak of.

Contrastingly however, it also a period of positive and widespread media coverage of Filey and our local natural history. With the BBC's Springwatch team due to film an Easter Special centered around Bempton Cliffs just across the bay, the opportunity to promote Filey Bird Observatory, our work and the town in general was very welcome, and two bouts of filming - several hours scouting for and shooting waders on the Brigg, and then a briefer session on Carr Naze trying not to swear on camera - resulted in a healthy few minutes making final cut, aired on Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

BBC Springwatch at Easter Special (Filey from about 45 mins onwards) - watch here  (on the iPlayer)

Apparently watched by over three million viewers over the Easter weekend, it also provided the opportunity to spread the word via other means, with local BBC and commercial radio ringing up for interviews (the first of which was live on air, unforgettably punctuated by my four-year old friend Stanley's exasperated exclamation of "BOR-ING" half way through), lots of coverage in local printed media, and a lot of attention via social media and elsewhere. Great for the group and the area, and all good fun in its vaguely surreal way.

Martins' excellent Birding Frontiers website also published an article of mine to coincide with the transmission of Springwatch, exploring the people and places behind the scenes here on our particularly blessed part of the coast - you can read it here.

Spring (delayed)

The relentless strong westerlies and low pressure systems look set to continue for some days, so to tide things over a little longer, a few more signs of a stuttering spring: Brown Hare at our Old Tip reserve, a Reed Bunting coming into breeding plumage, and a Wren carrying nest material, both at the Dams.

Black-bellied Dipper - Harpham, East Yorks

Well, that was fun. A beautiful sunny afternoon, a couple of hours spare, and a twenty minute drive south-west into the East Riding with local comrade Nick 'The Gap' Carter to the sleepy, picturesque village of Harpham. We were there in the hope of catching up with the long-staying Black-bellied Dipper, and being such committed, shit-hot twitchers, we were out of the blocks within literally months of the bird's arrival.

After being reported daily for many weeks and then suddenly no reports for a couple of days, we were prepared for the possibility that it may have finally moved on; no matter, a crystal-clear chalk stream with displaying Lapwings and singing Treecreepers by the path and barely another soul around was making for a pleasant jolly anyhow. But, soon enough the star of the show bowled past us and upstream, settling nearby and clearly not giving one about our close-up presence.

After a good twenty minutes or more enjoying the show, we started setting off back, only for the bird to settle again under the bridge beside us. Just for the hell of it, I sat by the bridge on the edge of the stream, and instead of flushing, the bird kicked back, had a relaxed preen, started feeding again, and then (magically) started to sing for several minutes, barely three metres from where I sat.

Martin garnered

The first long-distance spring migrant of the year = instant happiness

 

Plenty of Goldcrests are moving through at the moment

 
An early-ish mosey around Carr Naze, the Brigg and the surrounding area this morning in crisp, early spring sunshine was always going to be a pleasure, but if I could bump into the first trans-Saharan migrant of the year then it'd kick-start the long-awaited new season in style. Despite the biting northerly breeze, very happy to report that it surprisingly didn't take long, when out of the sun and in off the sea came the first Sand Martin - inspiring an involuntary sharp intake of breath, a quickening of the pulse, and a psychological corner turned.

 
A second followed about an hour later, in between a walk around the base of the Brigg, ostensibly for Scandinavian Rock Pipits (briefly successful, with one of two fleeting birds showing an emerging littoralis dress code). With time of year (and lack of foliage) in mind, the quiet hunt for a Firecrest goes on, although checking the increasing numbers of Goldcrests is hardly a trial; around 16 were in the Top Scrub and Church Ravine this morning, where five Chiffys flitted and intermittently sang before a snow and sleet storm provoked a sudden silence.

Chiffchaff, Church Ravine

 

A brief Scandinavian Rock Pipit on the Brigg