No, I didn't go

And yes, I am bitter. But only slightly. Having prematurely suggested in Saturday's post that I hadn't jinxed myself by predicting a mega during my weekend 'on call', I realised the next morning I had done precisely that when news broke of a Citril Finch in Norfolk. By when, even if I could have arranged some cover, I was committed to supporting wife and sons in Poole at the Rainbow Run, in my capacity as official family photographer. The thought of leaving them to it as they perspired for worthy causes never entered my head, of course, and I didn't even get close to calculating that if I left them to get the train home I could do the 248.3 miles from Wareham to Holkham in 5 hrs 3 mins, giving me a couple of hours before dark to look for the bird.

Citril Finch, French Alps, 2011

All academic of course, as I couldn't go anyway, and now history too, as, unlike the other spring weekend rarities which I lauded recently, it chose not to stick around. At least this left Sunday afternoon free to twitch Portland with Steve Smith, though a frustrating session searching for Golden Orioles ended with mixed feelings as I managed to clap eyes on a perched bird which flew before I could raise my lens, and before Steve was able to join me. As he was driving, this raised the spectre of the man overboard scenario from our Great Blue Heron twitch. Fortunately, he rose above it and didn't make me walk home. Cheers mate!

Yours truly swells with pride as the rest of the family power to the finish line

More Citril Finches

Last day of our holiday today before the long, over-land journey home across France. Following success earlier in the week with Citril Finch and Nutcracker, I returned to Cret de Chatillon in the hope of improving on my initial photographs.

No Nutcracker this time unfortunately but the Finches were still present in a mixed flock with Goldfinch and Siskin. The sun was behind me this time, and while the Finches were quite approachable when feeding in the long grass this made them quite difficult to photograph. Add in some heat haze and the challenge was increased. Charming birds though, especially when vocalising.

A few more of the ubiquotous Black Redstart and Crested Tit rounded off an enjoyable final morning in the French Alps.

A Crazy Hour on Cret de Chatillon

On a family holiday visiting non-birding friends I did not expect to have many opportunities to see good birds. Getting above the treeline to Cret de Chatillon in the French Alps offered some hope but, as coffee an ice cream were the main objectives of the rest of my party, not much. Or so I thought. Stepping out of the car I immediately heard an unfamiliar 'te-te-te' call as a small flock of Citril Finch flew over. They landed nearby so family and friends were abandoned in search of some photos - against the light unfortunately, but the first I have managed of this species. Rejoining the coffee drinkers I heard another unfamiliar call - somewhere between a Jay and a Nightjar - and saw the back end of a Nutcracker vanish into a conifer looming over the cafe. It exchanged calls with another further down the slope, and after some careful searching I could just about see it, partially obscured by branches. After this excitement, a short walk to the nearby summit brought us face to face with a small flock of Alpine Chough (see later post). The best hour's birding of the entire trip!