With the heat continuing and Warneford and Churchill Meadows on my local patch gradually turning to straw, urban east Oxford felt more like the Mediterranean this week:
And then the Mediterranean came to me. I was packing the car to depart for a family celebration in Suffolk, when I was thrown into complete chaos as I heard the repeated “yee-ow, yee-ow” calls of a Mediterranean Gull approaching from the south! It flew overhead at a medium height, calling constantly. I whipped my phone out and just about managed to get a poor an atmospheric recording of the final two flight calls, before it disappeared north and away over Headington:
This is, without doubt, the best bird species yet recorded on my garden list.
In Suffolk, after the family celebration, I took my sister, her daughters and one of my daughters out onto some local heathland, where we experienced the amazing, evocative sound of churring Eurasian Nightjars:
Here I also managed to make apoor an atmospheric recording of two species that share the same habitat, but are not always heard singing together, Tree Pipit and Eurasian Nightjar:
Then back to see what the moth trap had produced in rural Suffolk. Highlights were a Small Elephant Hawk Moth, this huge Oak Eggar and a nice Dusky Sallow:
Oak Eggar mothDusky Sallow moth
A memorable day with a fantastic Mediterranean theme!
With a national influx of Common Crossbills taking place this summer, any conscientious local patch birder should be out searching for Crossbills, their flight calls fresh in the mind from revision sessions on Xeno-Canto or the Macaulay Library. Whilst this influx had caused me to remind myself of the flight calls, I was far from being on full alert on Monday morning. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, my camera broke last week, frustratingly as I left the house to see and hear Oxfordshire’s second Savi’s Warbler, and is currently being repaired.
Secondly, the birding year has entered the Dead Zone. In birding terms, mid-May to late July are deathly quiet in the Lye Valley, Oxford. Resident breeding species are feeding fledged young, there are Swifts overhead, but very little else. The last seven years have demonstrated that adding new species to the Lye Valley year list is near impossible in these ten weeks of early and mid-summer.
This combination of factors meant that on Monday morning I visited my local patch without a camera or a microphone. Of nearly 800 patch visits, this was one of a tiny handful when I left the house with just binoculars. With hindsight, I should have known that this would guarantee that a good bird would fly over.
As anticipated, the visit was completely uneventful until I left Churchill Meadow, adjacent to the Churchill Hospital. Suddenly, the sky was filled with loud “chip-chip-chip” flight calls from directly above me, and immediately the thought “Crossbills?” flashed through my mind. I picked up the source of the calls, a flock of four large finches, flying quite low, on a line from the Lye Valley towards Warneford Meadow, over the southern edge of the hospital. The binocular views were really good, and I could see the huge bill on the closest bird: they were CommonCrossbills! The birds appeared to be pretty uniform against the sky, with no white or colour visible in the wings or tail. The flock continued west and out of sight, those distinctive flight calls ringing out constantly.
I stood staring after the flock in a mild state of shock. As someone who has been meticulous in evidencing bird records with photos or recordings, it was slightly frustrating to have a locally rare bird flyover and not be able to capture the flight calls in a recording. But strangely, not having to grab a camera or point a microphone at disappearing birds in flight made this one of the more relaxed flyover experiences: I just watched and listened to the flock going over and enjoyed every second.
The flight calls sounded like this, especially the calls in the second half of this recording…
… calls that I’ll be listening out for in the next couple of months, though hopefully next time I’ll have working recording gear with me.
This is the second patch record of Common Crossbill, after two flyover birds in September 2020. This record takes the 2025 Lye Valley year list to 69 species, two species of which have been seen by others (Reed Bunting and Little Egret). The complete Lye Valley illustrated bird list can be found here.
January to July inclusive: a seven-month test of patience
2024 started quietly and for the first seven months, things continued in that vein. The only birds of note leading up to spring migration were a Water Rail on 10th January; the earliest singing Willow Warbler in the county on March 20th; quickly followed by the Lye Valley’s fourth record of Mute Swan on March 24th:
Spring migration saw a very brief Common Redstart and the second Common Grasshopper Warbler reeling away on the golf course. It is always a pleasure to hear these birds in the city:
But that was about it. Looking at the last four years of coverage, for the first two-thirds of 2024, it was the quietest year yet. Only when the summer “death zone” of mid-May to early August came to an end, did the dark blue line begin to pick itself up:
August to December: an astonishing autumn
But what an autumn it was and how the year turned around. 2024 saw me complete my 700th patch visit, achieved over a total period of six years. Adding new species becomes increasingly difficult the more one visits an area, so I was unprepared for what was about to occur. I noted that exactly one year and one day had passed since the last addition to the Lye Valley bird list, a superb Corn Bunting on 17th August 2023. Perhaps these gaps of over a year between new species were going to become normal now?
In fact, the autumn saw an astonishing sequence of bird records in the Lye Valley area from early August until early November. In this 12-week period no less than five new species were added to the Lye Valley list, plus I somehow managed to pull back the only species on the Lye Valley list that I have not seen. Virtually a new species every other week, for several months. It was insane! Inevitably, it started with duck.
Records of flyover duck species that are not Mallard are extremely rare. The lack of any open water doesn’t help. In the last six years, there is a single nocturnal record of Eurasian Wigeon, a single record of Eurasian Teal in a spell of freezing weather and two records of flyover Goosander in winter. So when a small, compact duck appeared flying low and fast over Warneford Meadon on August 18th, the last thing I was expecting was a Common Pochard, the 108th species recorded here:
Incredibly, the 18th August produced not one, but two new species for the Lye Valley area. Forty minutes after the Pochard flyover, a movement on the roof of the Churchill Hospital alerted me to a stonking Northern Wheatear. This was one of the first autumn records of this species in the county, and was a long-anticipated addition to the Lye Valley area bird list, although the location of this bird was completely unanticipated! Species numnber #109:
Another species of chat that I thought would turn up eventually was discovered on 25th September. After 684 patch visits, a female-type European Stonechat finally appeared in Churchill Meadow, feeding in the rain, a few hundred meters south of where the Northern Wheatear was a few weeks previously. Species #110:
The 5th October 2024 will live long in the memory. The second-ever record of Marsh Tit, was a great start. Just like the first bird, it was very mobile, passing through scrub on the golf course:
Whilst walking back around the edge of the hospital, I then stumbled across patch gold, a superb Yellow-browed Warbler, feeding in willows between Warneford Meadow and the hospital:
Yellow-browed Warbler, species #111 and probably the best patch moment that I’ve had!
The Yellow-browed Warbler remained for week, and was even seen by a number of other birders. It is the rarest bird that I’ve found in the Lye Valley area, being the 26th Yellow-browed Warbler found in Oxfordshire, in what was a very good autumn for this species across the country.
Another species that also moved through the UK in much higher numbers than usual was Hawfinch. The last big Hawfinch year was 2017/8 when birds were even found in the Lye Valley woods, although this was just before I began covering the area. Being such an uncommon and secretive bird in Oxfordshire, I had given up all hope of seeing this species on my patch. However, with Hawfinches being widely reported across southern England throughout October, I began mounting daily dawn vigils, with the hope of seeing or hearing a flyover bird. My wish came true on 30th October, when 2 Hawfinches flashed over Warneford Meadow, calling:
Whilst flyover Hawfinches are one thing, to find a Hawfinch perched up on my patch was entirely another. A week later, a scan through a feeding thrush flock was brought to an abrupt halt by the distinctive shape of a Hawfinch, feeding on rowan berries, a superb Oxford city record. I had entered the realms of fantasy!
The next addition to the Lye Valley area bird list was slightly less shock-inducing. A flyover Great Black-backed Gull has long been on my radar, even though this species is relatively sedentary in the county. On November 2nd this bird became the 112th species recorded in this area of urban Oxford:
But the year was not over yet. A tip-off from a dog walker revealed only the second-ever Western Barn Owl hunting over Warneford Meadow, captured here on my phone video:
There was a brief Woodcock on November 9th, this species is just about annual here in November. That Woodcock became the 82nd species recorded in the Lye Valley area in 2024, making it the second-best year in terms of species recorded, after the record-breaking year of 2023, with 87 species. This was quite some turnaround from the very quiet first half of the year. There was one final surprise in store. On December 11th, a series of distant honking sounds materialised into four fabulous Whooper Swans, that flew north-east over Headington and species number 83 for 2024:
The lesson here is “don’t give up”. Ride out the quiet periods, because if you know that your local patch attracts migrant birds, then there will always be something eventually. The astonishing autumn of 2024 produced Yellow-browed Warbler, two Hawfinch records, four Whooper Swans, Common Pochard, Woodcock, Western Barn Owl, European Stonechat, Northern Wheater and Marsh Tit, all within a tiny area of urban East Oxford. This autumn may never be beaten, in terms of quality species!
The full illustrated list of all 112 bird species recorded in the Lye Valley area can be found here. Now let’s see what 2025 has in store. Happy New Year all!
When a Whooper Swan flew over my head on Warneford Meadow, Oxford on 12th November 2022, I wrote it off as a freakish one-off, an incredible record, never to be repeated. What right does a small urban, inland patch, with no standing water, have to record Whooper Swan? Whoopers are pretty rare in Oxfordshire, with a small number of records in winter.
Then, on Wednesday morning, the unthinkable happened. I had just left Warneford Meadow and was crossing the golf course, when I heard what appeared to be a distant honking call. I stopped in my tracks. My first instinct was that it may have been a calling goose. This was good news. We don’t get many waterbirds up here, I haven’t recorded Greylay Goose in over 18 months and there has only been one record of Canada Goose this year. I stared at the line of pine trees on the horizon, from where the sound originated.
Then I heard more calls. Simultaneously, as the thought “Whooper Swans?” formed in my mind, my jaw began to drop. Seconds later, four huge, gleaming white swans broke the skyline, their calls echoing over the golf course. It was true, I was in the presence of Whoopers:
The ten seconds that it took the 4 Whooper Swans to fly over my patch, over the Churchill Hospital and away over Headington, were blissful. I took pictures and even made a late effort to record their calls, unsuccessfully unfortunately, as I had prioritised getting some photographs. With only four records of Mute Swan here in six years, there are now two records of Whooper Swan, making Mute Swan only twice as likely as Whooper Swan here! My overriding memory though, will be the sounds of wild swan calls, ringing out over my patch, just magical.
This is a familiar and well-used introduction, usually from a non-birder to a birder. It is slightly preferable to “What are you looking at?” Often folk are just curious as to why someone might be standing in a meadow, binoculars around their neck, looking up at the sky with a microphone next to them. It’s a fair question. However, explaining the intricacies of recording visible migration is often beyond the limits of my patience, so I usually just say “yes“.
On this occasion, the person making inquiries wanted some help identifying a bird that they had seen. My heart sank a little. This might not be a quick interaction and more importantly, our conversation might drown out the flight calls of Hawfinches passing overhead. Then suddenly I became much more interested:
“It was a large white bird, bigger than a Kestrel, floating low over the meadow in the very last of the light, occasionally dropping down, then rising up again“
It was a perfect description of a Barn Owl hunting. Barn Owls are very rare up here. Isaac West and I sounded recorded one calling when we were out listening for Common Scoters in the spring of 2021. We never saw that bird and it has remained the sole Lye Valley area record over the last six years. I was intrigued by the dog-walker’s report, even though the bird was only seen once, and that was several days ago.
On Thursday evening, I visited Warneford Meadow as the light was fading. By 5pm it was dark and I was just about to return, when a ghostly pale shape floated across the meadow in front of me: Barn Owl! I took some video of the owl hunting, the lights of the Churchill Hospital bright in the background:
I watched the Barn Owl hunting for about 20 very special minutes, amazed that it had found this small area of meadow in urban Oxford, completely surrounded by housing and hospitals.
This was my 700th visit to the Lye Valley area, and Barn Owl is the 81st species that I have recorded here this year. The illustrated list of all 112 species recorded in the Lye Valley area is here.
With overhead migration calming down (in fact grinding to halt, there was none this morning) it feels as if we are moving into winter proper. The solid grey skies of the last week, and the terrible news from the American election results today, added to the slightly flat feel. But there were thrushes. Fieldfares are regular winter visitors to urban Oxford, but are nearly always seen, and heard, flying over. On a couple of occasions in the last six years, Fieldfares have come down to feed on berry trees, but believe it or not, this is the first time that I’ve seen one on the ground here:
I was quite pleased and assumed that this was probably going to be the highlight from today’s patch visit. The Fieldfares had joined about 15 Redwings that were feeding in rowan trees on the golf course. Their presence was driving the local Mistle Thrushes into a fury, their alarm calls were angrily ringing all around. I scanned through the trees, counting thrush numbers until I was brought to a halt by the rear end of a bird, perched at the back of the tree. The short tail, the long white wing-bar, framed by dark primaries below it and an evenly brown back above it, could only mean one thing: there was a Hawfinch in the tree in front of me. In Oxford city!
Having recorded a pair of flyover Hawfinch last week, I was on the alert for further flyovers, but had not dreamt that I would find a feeding bird, perched up on my patch. This was a fantastic moment!
Trying not to move in case I disturbed it, yet wanting a slightly better view, I shuffled a little to my left. This gave me decent binocular views of most of the bird, including the massive bill, orange head and black eye mask. The light was terrible, which meant that the photos were too, but the key features can be seen:
The Hawfinch fed for a few more seconds, doing it’s best Waxwing impression by appearing to take rowan berries from the tree:
And then, typically for this species, it simply disappeared into thin air. I scanned through the tree numerous times and eventually circled the tree, but saw or heard no further sign of this fabulous species. How many more Hawfinches are out there? Will there be more?! At the moment, it feels like the sky is the limit as to what may turn up next, expectation levels are dangerously high!
No-one was more ready for a Hawfinch flyover than me. I had refreshed my search image of flying birds and I had listened to recordings of flight calls on a daily basis.
Search image: chunky, short-tailed, big-headed, with a huge translucent wingbar (picture from the last big irruption, winter 2017/18).
I had also refined my flight call sound recording technique, positioning my recorder with the microphone pointing straight up, a meter or so from where I stood, watching the sky. This enabled me to review interesting flight calls and capture the important ones. And still they nearly got past me.
I had been out watching and listening to bird migration for the first hour of light pretty much every day for the last week. Reports of Hawfinches passing over local sites kept me motivated, but after a combined total of about eight hours of watching I was beginning to wonder if any were ever going fly over this small, green patch of urban Oxford.
At 7:15am on Tuesday 30th October, after about half an hour of watching and listening to light overhead bird migration, I heard a series of sharp, high-pitched flight calls, from above and almost behind me. They sounded a bit like a Meadow Pipit calling whilst 1,000 volts were being passed through it. Or more accurately, a repeated high-pitched “tsick“.
I whirled around and just got onto the source of the calls: two large, short-tailed finches that flew low and fast away from me, disappearing over the trees on Hill Top Road, to the west. No real plumage details could be made out but all my instincts were that those birds were probably Hawfinches. Now it was down to the sound recorder to confirm the identification.
Fortunately, my recorder had picked up the flight calls, even over the sounds of a local dog walker passing by and the banging of building work at the Warneford Hospital site. The calls are classic Hawfinch flight calls, an inverted v-shaped call at the 7-9 kHz range. Typical Hawfinch, completely distinctive, yet somehow easy to overlook.
The last big Hawfinch year, the winter of 2017/18, was just before I began regularly watching the Lye Valley area. Phil Barnett found a small flock of Hawfinches in the Lye Valley woods in February 2018. I wondered how it would ever be possible to see this elusive species here again? Fortunately, this year’s irruption of Hawfinches from continental Europe has provided just that opportunity. Species number 111 for the Lye Valley bird list and for me!
Today was a truly fateful day. Seeing me about the leave the house to begin local patch visit number 684, my 12-year-old daughter asked me, “Daddy, what do you hope to see today?” I didn’t think, the words “Yellow-browed Warbler” seemed obvious. “It’s a rare bird in Oxfordshire but there have been lots on the east coast and one or two might stop off inland. But I’ll take anything.”
Once out in Warneford Meadow, the overhead migration was obvious. Not huge numbers of birds, but first light saw Redwings and a few Meadow Pipits and Eurasian Skylarks flying overhead, beneath a light cover of cloud. As the cloud broke up and was replaced by blue skies and sunshine, Barn Swallows started moving. Nearly everything was heading south-west.
I checked the bushes around the meadow and then crossed the golf course. The large areas of scrub near the public footpath can attract migrant birds, but nothing prepared me for when I found myself very briefly locking eyes with what I felt sure was a Marsh Tit. There has been only one previous record of Marsh Tit in the last six years, this was not a bird that I wanted to let go. A few nervous minutes passed before it appeared again, this time giving great views for a few seconds in the scrub. Just like the first record, this Marsh Tit was very mobile, looking like a migrant passing through.
Chasing 40
Delighted with what was already a superb morning, I continued onwards, checking the Lye Valley woods, where a Eurasian Treecreeper was calling, and Churchill Meadow. By the time I was at the top of the Lye Valley, I had recorded 39 species, my best total of the year so far. But I also noted that I had been let down by some common species that I record on most patch visits: Blackcap, Stock Dove, European Herring and Lesser Black-backed Gull, in particular. With early morning gull movement over and Blackcaps becoming much less common by early October, I figured my best chance to get to 40 species today would be to walk back towards Warneford Meadow to try to add Stock Dove to the day list. For only the second time ever, I turned around and walked back across my patch and past the Churchill Hospital. How fate hangs on these small decisions.
A flock of 4 Great Cormorants passed overhead, taking me to 40 species for the visit and justifying my retraced steps. The small Boundary Brook valley is full of elder trees. Stock Doves sometimes perch up here, warming themselves in the early morning sun. I paused on the footpath by the hospital, scanning the elder trees. A small flock of Western House Martins flew over, and the first Eurasian Siskins of the year passed overhead, calling.
There is a movement in a nearby willow tree. It is a warbler. “That looks small,” I think to myself and I raise my binoculars:
The huge supercilium and the double wing bars that adorn this tiny green and white warbler, nearly knock me off my feet. “Yellow-browed Warbler!” my brain screams, as a wave of adrenaline washes over me. I fire off a few pictures as the bird pauses on the edge of the willow, a tiny visitor from Siberia:
The Lye Valley’s first-ever Yellow-browed Warbler then flies into the denser cover of the valley. Despite the intense levels of adrenaline, I start recording bird calls, just in case it calls. Fortunately, it does:
A few minutes later the Yellow-browed Warbler flies back to the willow tree where I first saw it, before returning again to the cover of the valley. I wait another fifteen minutes, but see or hear no further sign of the bird. I use this time to put the news out on the local Whatsapp group. Unfortuntely I did not see Stock Dove, but 43 species in a couple of hours in Headington is a fine haul.
Dream patch find
Yellow-browed Warbler is a dream patch find. Rare enough in the county to attract interest, but common enough nationally to be a viable target for local patch watchers. This was the first Yellow-browed Warbler in Oxfordshire this year and about the 26th ever, as per the county annual reports. The recent increase in records of this species is obvious:
In other times, I would have spent the rest of today drunk on champagne, celebrating a superb patch find. These days, I’ll just be smiling all weekend. After all, there is always tomorrow morning.
I began exploring the Lye Valley area in early 2019, following a serious running injury, which meant that my first few visits were on crutches. The Lye Valley area is an eclectic mix of habitats, containing what was “Oxfordshire’s first lunatic asylum“, a WWII hospital, a golf course and an 8,000-year-old alkaline fen with Special Scientific Status. These are not typical habitats for finding a variety of birds and there was no open water, but the position of the Lye Valley area, in an elevated location on the edge of a small escarpement overlooking east Oxford and the River Thames, meant that some migrant birds might be found too.
With regular coverage, a surpringsingly diverse selcetion of bird species were recorded, including the first county scarcity, a Pied Flycatcher, found in August 2019 with Dave Lowe. This new booklet, published by the Oxford Ornithological Society, describes the birds found in this green corner of urban east Oxford over the period 2019-2023.
Here is a little preview of this new report:
This new booklet uses data from over 800 eBird checklists submitted during the 2019-2023 period to describe the occurrence, arrival/departure dates and high counts of local breeding birds. As hoped, this green area surrounded by housing and hospitals also attracted a variety of migrant birds. Through their migration routes, these birds connect urban east Oxford to sub-Saharan Africa in the south and to the Arctic tundra in the north. The Birds of the Lye Valley Area draws all these bird records together, beautifully illustrated by the author’s photographs. Or so he tells us. Order a copy today! This bird report is a not-for-profit publication, any surplus funds raised from sales will go to the Oxford Ornithological Society.
Having equalled my all-time total of 81 bird species recorded in the Lye Valley area of Headington in 2022, what would 2023 bring? This area (the Lye Valley LNR, Southfield Golf Course, Warneford Meadow and the Boundary Brook Wildlife Corridor) is surrounded by the housing of east Oxford and has the Old Road Campus and the Churchill Hospital within it. I have had an MRI scan and COVID-19 vaccinations on my local patch, bringing new meaning to the concept of total birding.
January 1st 2023 could have hardly begun any better: 40 species recorded, my best on this date, and a new species for the area – Firecrest – all in the first couple of hours of light. The checklist is here. That the first visit produced 45% of all the bird species that would be recorded in the whole year says much about the variety of urban birding and the patience needed. That first day also saw a flyover Skylark and a wintering Chiffchaff, neither guaranteed in January:
A bitterly cold spell in the second-half of January, covered the local Moorhens in ice…
… but brought in some common winter birds, such as Redwings:
There were also uncommon visitors. The second Common Gull ever flew over, and a Snipe was seen on several visits. January 23rd was a Lapwing day, with 58 flying south in small flocks:
There then followed a superb burst of good birds. Steve Sansom glimpsed a Water Rail on 24th, and I managed to relocate it the following morning, the first for the Lye Valley area:
Two Goosander flew over on the 28th, yet another second-ever record here, one of the themes of the year. This brought the January total to 55 species, and already 63% of the total number of species for the year had been recorded:
February was much quieter, but more new species for the year were added in March, with a flyover flock of Golden Plover on 8th and the beginning of waterbird migration which saw Canada Geese and Cormorants overhead and this Little Egret on the golf course:
And there were Grey Herons, both adults and young birds:
1st April saw the first trans-Saharan migrant arrive, a Willow Warbler, but the spring of 2023 turned out to be desperately quiet, with the only bird of note being a Brambling on April 17th:
Local breeders were all that I had to show for near-daily effort between mid-March and early May:
2023 was a good year for Garden Warblers, with one pair probably breeding:
It was superb to be able to hear Garden Warbler song on most visits between early May and early June:
With the addition of the common Warblers, Swift and Hobby, the year list stood at 74 species by 31st May, the highest total ever reached by this date. This total included the second patch record of Egyptian Geese, as a pair spent a long weekend on the golf course:
But as is often the case, the period between late May and August, the “death zone”, produced no new birds at all. I was reduced to photographing other things:
Fox cubEmperor Dragonfly, devouring a Small Copper butterflyI saw this Magpie, presumably feeding on ticks on this male Muntjac, on several occasions. Juvenile Green Woodpecker
The local Sparrowhawks had a successful season, fledging three young. Only when the first week of August arrived, and with it a returning Lesser Whitethroat, did the year list move on. An excellent January had been followed by a quiet spring and summer, but then came a truly astounding August. A number of Yellow Wagtails were heard and seen flying over. This year I made more efforts to record the flight calls of migrating birds:
This recording of a flyover Yellow Wagtail came out nicely. I like the way the flight call emerges from a background of calling Blue Tits and lawnmowers on the golf course, before the bird passes overhead, typical August birding here:
Nothing prepared me for the next three weeks. On 17th August I found a Corn Bunting on Warneford Meadow, the first Oxford city record since 1980 and the third new species for the Lye Valley in the year. It was quite a moment:
August 30th saw my first, and the Lye Valley’s second, Redstart. It very nearly stayed for a photo…
… and 2 Spotted Flycatchers on the same day:
Both these birds were eclipsed by a superb Pied Flycatcher, the second I’ve found in the Lye Valley area and found on my birthday and was the 81st species for the year, equalling my previous best annual total, so all the more sweet! This bird was one of only three seen in all of Oxfordshire during 2023:
A new Lye Valley area species total was set on September 16th when this Reed Bunting flew over calling. They all count!
The decline of House Martins across the county is very sad. This species has only been recorded in late September in recent years, as small flocks migrate south, passing low overhead in the first few hours of light. This year birds were recorded on September 20th and 23rd. A flyover Lesser Redpoll was species number 83 and was the last regular species that I needed… unless I got lucky with a Woodcock in the autumn. Then a couple of real surprises lifted the total to phenomenal heights. First, a Great White Egret circled over Churchill Meadow, followed a few days later by not one, but two, Great White Egrets and a Little Egret, amazing records for an area with no standing water:
Another flyover finch, the Lye Valley’s second Linnet, was seen and recorded flying south on October 23rd, species number 85:
There was also some decent Woodpigeon migration, with a peak movement of 920 birds in 90 minutes on 20th November:
I only had one target for November: Woodcock. Nearly all the previous Lye Valley records have been in this month, all four of them. On November 18th, in pouring rain, after much tramping through wooded areas, a Woodcock lifted from the ground under the trees by Boundary Brook stream, species number 86 for the year. And that was that. Or so I thought. I still visited regularly throughout December, but held out no realistic hope of adding another species. On December 27th, again in the rain at dawn, I splashed across a very wet Warneford Meadow and was astounded to flush a snipe, from just in front of me, on the edge of this wet patch:
In 573 previous patch visits, I have not flushed a snipe from Warneford Meadow. Even better, this bird looked tiny, rose silently, and flew low and direct into the long grass in the background. Surely this was a Jack Snipe? I walked towards the grass and the bird rose again, this time I got binocular views of it, and noted no obvious white on the trailing edge of the wing and two prominent gold scapular streaks. I thought it would land again, but at the last moment, it lifted off the meadow and flew north, at rooftop height, a stonking garden tick for somebody, if they were quick enough. An end-of-year surprise, species number 87 for the year, a cracking Jack Snipe!
What a year. I visited the Lye Valley area 153 times in 2023, recorded 87 bird species, three of which were new for the area (Firecrest, Water Rail and Corn Bunting). I walked some 800km, or 500 miles, and spent over 230 hours hours birding there. It has been a constant source of joy. Except for the Death Zone. Next year I will walk 500 miles more and will see what I can see. There is a song in there somewhere.
