Peter Moore's Wildlife Blog

Sunday, 30 November 2025

Waiting for the weekend

The clocks going back in October signals the end of any chance to get out birding after work until the spring, and there's precious little time to do so before work, so, for the fully employed, the opportunities to be in the field are pretty much restricted to weekends for the foreseeable future. This can lead to significant frustration, especially given the apparent propensity of good birds to turn up on a Monday.

1st winter female Desert Wheatear

In the shade on the dung heap

Brett Spencer almost broke this rule of thumb in locating a Desert Wheatear near Wyke Regis last Sunday, but with barely an hour's daylight remaining when news broke, there was no way I would make it there by bike before dark. With an intense week at work ahead, I tried to put the bird from my mind - surely it would not stay until the following weekend? To my surprise the bird was still there on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. To add insult to injury, several local birders with a limited grasp of auto-correct insisted on posting their photos of the 'Dessert Wheatear', implying they were going back for seconds before I even had chance of firsts!

Desert Wheatear photographed through the Bridging Camp fence

The bird spent a lot of time with it's bill open, not quite gagging but not far off - hopefully not a sign of ill health

When it was reported as still there on Friday I started to make plans for an early start on Saturday. With the mountain bike already up on blocks for major works, I dropped the hybrid off at my local bike shop for a minor repair on Friday lunchtime with the intention of collecting it before closing time. With my head down in work, however, I completely lost track of time and by the time I thought 'better collect the bike' it was too late! Fortunately they open at 0900 on a Saturday, and the enforced lie-in turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the rain was hammering down at 0800 and stopped just a few minutes before I knocked on the door at Wareham Cycleworks to collect my wheels. Just before that the continued presence of the bird was also confirmed, causing the heart to beat a little faster. Returning home, a pannier was already packed so I was away within a few minutes, heading west towards Wool, Weymouth and on to Wyke Regis.

Desert Wheatear

At one point it looked like the Wheatear might perch on my bike but this is as close as it got - my kickstand in the background

A nasty bout of flu kept me off the bike for the first half of November and its seemingly long tail left me feeling pretty worn out well into last week. The feeling of being out of shape was not helped by a stiff south westerly which contributed to my sluggish pace: the first 11 miles to the high point of the journey near Warmwell, which I can do in 50 minutes on a good day, took closer to 70 minutes as I laboured against the wind. Things got a bit easier after that but not much, and it was gone 1120 when I arrived at the Bridging Camp, temporary home to the Desert Wheatear.

The Desert Wheatear during a short hover

On arrival Durwyn Lilley, a fellow Wareham birder, was already there and another, Hilary Jordan, arrived shortly after. While I envied the more sensible forms of transport they had used to travel the 21 miles to the Bridging Camp, I could at least look forward to a following breeze to push me home. But first there was a bird to find, and there had been no sign of it since 1000. A somewhat discouraging message from the previous afternoon suggested that the Wheatear had flown across The Fleet to feed on the back of Chesil Beach - it would be bad news if this had happened again as I would struggle to see it from my position, particularly as I had left the telescope at home.

Desert Wheatear

Looking smart in the sun

After about an hour of no sign Durwyn headed back towards Camp Road to check other parts of the Bridging Camp - a large fenced compound within which the Wheatear had spent much of it's stay. Shortly after doing so he called me to say he had relocated it much closer to the road. I informed other birders along the western fence-line and scooted around on the bike, just in time to see the Wheatear distantly inside the compound, but it vanished before I could get a photograph. It eventually reappeared for a few record shots and with time pushing on I started to pack up with a view to heading for home. No sooner than I had put the camera away I saw Durwyn pointing down just beyond the fence - the Desert Wheatear was sitting just a few yards in front of him.

Desert Wheatear

The camera was rapidly reassembled but photos remained difficult through the tight mesh of the fence. This mild inconvenience was soon overcome when the bird flew out of the compound onto our side of the fence and proceeded to feed in and around a dung heap at point blank range. The sun had also come out by this point, making for altogether better conditions for photography. Satisfied that I must have a few decent images in the can, I reluctantly packed the camera away for the second time and began the long journey home.

The Desert Wheatear was loosely associating with a small flock of Pied Wagtail

A Black Redstart was also at the Bridging Camp (photographed badly through the fence)

Unfortunately the wind had eased a fair bit so did not help as much as I had hoped, and as I climbed the last hill to the west of Wareham I was really struggling. Once at the top though, I could freewheel the last mile into town with the knowledge that I would soon be adding Desert Wheatear to the non-motorised year list (bringing it to 214) and my all time non-motorised list (which nudges up to 277).

Desert Wheatear

Monday, 27 October 2025

Shetland 2025: the journey home

We were leaving Shetland on Monday 13th October and after several days of failing to find our own birds, Bradders treated us to a mildly twitchy final day sweeping up a few minor rarities in south Mainland before heading for the port. This enabled us to catch up with a distant Blue-winged Teal at Loch of Spiggie and a much closer Barred Warbler at Clickimin. A few last minute trip ticks in the form of Purple Sandpiper and Knot were added in Lerwick as we finally changed out of our smelly wellies ready for the ferry.

Barred Warbler, Clickimin, 13th October

Bressay Lighthouse from the ferry

As with the journey up we would be stopping at Orkney so leaving in daylight which allowed us to see a few Long-tailed Duck outside Lerwick harbour but conditions were not as conducive to sea-watching as on the way up.

Long-tailed Duck outside Lerwick 13th October

Guillemot, Lerwick Harbour, 13th October

We'd had no luck with rare Scoters on the way north but planned to put that right on the way south as a White-winged had been seen in Lunan Bay which we visited all too briefly at the start of the trip. Despite there being thousands of Scoter in the bay we located the White-winged surprisingly quickly and enjoyed good 'scope views of it displaying to a female Velvet.

Shetland, 13th October

Purple Sandpiper, Lerwick, 13th October

We also had one eye on reports of a Black Scoter travelling north up the east coast. Triangulating theoretical flight times of scoters with real time reports we calculated that if we found a coastal viewpoint at around 1300 we would have a good chance of intercepting it. Stag Rocks looked like our best option with parking right on the coast and not too big a detour from our route. We set up scopes and checked our watches. Right on cue a group of about 20 scoter came into view distantly from the south, and although they got a bit closer, they remained too far out to identify anything other than Common-types with confidence.

Black Guillemot, Lerwick Harbour, 13th October

Twite, Ireland, 13th October

We headed back north to Cocklawburn, a regular haunt of Black Scoter, but it wasn't there either so we decided to cut our losses and resume the long journey south. Two days later and it was settled on the sea at Goswick, just south of Cocklawburn, suggesting that we had the right idea at least! And that was pretty much it for the trip birdwise, and we returned to our respective homes later that evening with an excellent trip list and some great memories.

Drake White-winged Scoter (right) with female Velvet Scoter, Lunan Bay, 14th October

Distant but identifiable White-winged Scoter, Lunan Bay, 14th October

Twite, Ireland, Mainland Shetland, 13th October

Sunday, 26 October 2025

Shetland 2025: day 5. And 6. And 7. And 8...

Our prayers that days of westerlies might bring an American landbird to Shetland were answered when a Blackpoll Warbler was located late on the afternoon of 8th October on Unst. We had all seen this species elsewhere in the UK so we played it cool by not heading straight there on the 9th, but reports that the bird was feeding out in the open on the beach at Haroldswick persuaded us to book tickets for the ferries to Yell and then Unst on the morning of the 10th.

Glossy Ibis, Norwick, Unst, 10th October

The weather was much the same as the previous day - howling westerlies and rain showers - so we hoped the Warbler would repeat the beach bum performance of the day before. The Warbler was seen just behind the beach whilst we waited for the ferry but birders were milling around when we arrived - never a good sign - and despite a thorough search over the next few hours we could not locate it. We assumed it had died and, given the conditions, who could have blamed it - but it was resurrected four days later when we were on the way home, being rediscovered in a garden we had checked, but clearly not thoroughly enough.

Glossy Ibis (juvenile), Norwick, Unst, 10th October

Having made the effort to get to Unst we were determined to make the most of it and checked out a few other sites including Norwick where a trio of Glossy Ibis entertained us in a wet field by the beach car park, seemingly struggling to stay upright in the strong winds. We knew the feeling! I had seen a flock of Glossy Ibis at home on the south coast in Dorset before leaving home and here they were in about the most northerly part of the UK you could imagine, illustrating the truly national scale of the recent invasion.

Redwing, Burrafirth, Unst, 10th October

Red-breasted Flycatcher, Yell, 10th October

Herring Gull, Gutcher, Yell 10th October

Great Skua, Unst, 10th October

Elsewhere we had a close flyover from a Great Skua, flushed a Water Rail from a reedy stream and stumbled across a Short-toed Lark feeding in the road near Burrafirth. But it had been a long and tiring day and we returned to Muckle Roe, stopping only to twitch a Red-breasted Flycatcher in near darkness on Yell and to collect a takeaway from Frankies before heading home.

Wheatear on the beach where the Blackpoll Warbler should have been, 10th October

Short-toed Lark, Burrafirth, 10th October

Gonna' need a Bigga boat...to get from Yell to Unst

Little Bunting, Vidlin, 11th October

The next three days, whilst not without their highlights - seconds of the Sibe Thrush, another close Otter encounter, and a soggy Little Bunting among them - all merged into one somewhat with seemingly endless trudges around birdless plantations with only dwindling reserves of hope and the ubiquitous Yellow-browed Warblers to keep us going. We also added to our burgeoning dip list missing standard Shetland fayre like Rustic Buntings, Barred Warblers, Rosefinches and Bluethroats as well as a Blue-winged Teal and an Ortolan, though to be fair we caught up with the first two of these and the Teal eventually and ended up with a trip list which you would be delighted with in a week at home.

Merlin, Mainland, 11th October

Lesser Whitethroat, Mainland, 11th October

Goldcrest, Mainland, 11th October

Great Northern Diver, Melby, 12th October

Still, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, dining well on home cooked food and local ales, and there was a certain nobility in our stubborn efforts to search every bush, even if they were usually empty. And despite the lack of good birds it was still a wrench to pack up on our final night and say goodbye to the excellent accommodation sourced by Bradders Birding Tours.