[Insert Tern pun of your choice here]

 'Monday megas' are the curse of the working birder, and a privilege usually reserved for the work-shy and retired, who seem make up about 90% of the birding population in these parts. The discovery of a Forster's Tern at Lytchett Bay early on 24th March was, however, sufficiently early in the day and sufficiently close to home to enable a quick smash and grab, though it was only seen thanks to a drive of shame as time didn't allow an attempted twitch by bike. This would, however, be a prized addition to the non-motorised list so I took advantage of the increasingly light evenings to head over after work for another look. 

Forster's Tern, Lytchett Bay

The Tern was not seen that evening, though I did see my first Hobby of the year, and to rub salt in I got caught in torrential rain before I could get to the train station at nearby Hamworthy to save my legs for another attempt early the following morning. This meant chalking the Hobby off the non-motorised yearlist as the journey would not be completed under my own steam, but it was a price worth paying to conserve some energy, which it sounded like I might need as the Tern was picked up in the Brownsea roost via a webcam as dusk approached.

Forster's Tern, Lytchett Bay

I passed Shaun Robson as I approached the Rock Lea viewpoint bright and early the next morning and he reassured me that the Tern was still present. On arrival at the viewpoint proper though three birders with telescopes broke the unwelcome news that it was out of view. They pointed out where it had landed and I set up my own scope in the hope that I would eventually see it move. 

Forster's Tern, Lytchett Bay

I didn't have to wait long as scanning the bank behind which it was allegedly perched I picked it up actually sitting on the saltmarsh. Alerting the others we all watched it until it took off shortly after and gradually made its way towards us, enabling excellent views and a few photos to be taken, albeit against the light. I was back at my desk in good time for work and with a smile on my face. 

Forster's Tern, Lytchett Bay

As the day progressed news of another rarity, a Woodchat Shrike, filtered through, the bird being just west of Swanage. Like the recent Hoopoe in the same area, this bird had been reported late the previous day before then skillfully relocated by local birder Rob Johnson. At 10 miles away it was a bit further than the Forster's Tern, but still close enough to be 'do-able' after work. I added Woodchat to the non-motorised year list in 2021 and 2022 in Bournemouth and Portland respectively, and this was certainly closer than either of those. 

Woodchat Shrike, Herston

I was away soon after finishing work but a headwind slowed my progress towards Herston and things got worse when I took the wrong route, overshooting the site of the bird, and had to lift the bike over a couple of gates to get back on track. Phil Saunders was on-site and relayed the disconcerting news that the bird had been chased, and possibly killed, by a Sparrowhawk, and had not been seen for 45 minutes. 

Woodchat Shrike, Herston

Whilst I continued to struggle to get my bearings, Phil rang again to say he had relocated the Woodchat so all I had to do now was find Phil! What3words came to the rescue and as I eventually rolled down a large cattle field towards him, he pointed out the Shrike within seconds of arrival. I could relax, compose myself and get a few photos in glorious evening light. It had been quite the day, and I capped it off by meeting my wife and son (whose girlfriend lives in Swanage) for dinner before cycling home in the dark. 

Woodchat Shrike, Herston

So April was pretty good for local birding and despite dipping Black-winged Stilts at both Keyhaven and Lodmoor, a Hoopoe, a Dipper, two Night Herons, a Ring Ouzel, a Scaup and a Dotterel were all seen on the bike during the month. Let's hope May continues in the same vein.

Woodchat Shrike, Herston

Twitching on a school night

Building a non-motorised year list has involved three main types of birding for me in 2021: visiting local sites on foot or by bike for species which are expected to occur at some point, cycling to locations further afield where a wider range of species might be seen, and heading for a specific spot to see an individual bird of a rarer species - twitching, in common parlance. In the latter category, all of my long distance trips (Black-winged Stilt and Iceland Gull at Lodmoor, Glossy Ibis at Stanpit, Tawny Pipit at Cogden and Whiskered Tern at Longham) had been at the weekend or on days off when there was plenty of time to recover from the exertion.

Woodchat Shrike, Iford Golf Course, 18th May

This last week brought a new test of resolve - two in fact - in the form of distant rarities for which a snap decision was needed about whether to go or not given the possibility that neither would hang around (and spring migrants often don't). The first of these was on Tuesday, a bright male Woodchat Shrike on the 12th tee at Iford Golf Course the other side of Bournemouth, 18 miles to the east. When news broke earlier in the day I dismissed the idea of twitching on a weeknight, as with a holiday approaching at the end of the month work was backing up and I needed to be on top form the following day. But when the bird was still present late afternoon, I realised that with the lighter evenings I could probably get there and back by 2100 and still get an early night to be fresh for work the following day.

Bonaparte's Gull, Lodmoor, 20th May

The forecast suggested the evening would be dry with a westerly breeze - an aid to getting there and a potential barrier to a swift return, but having already prepared dinner in the slow cooker (a sumptuous venison casserole, since you ask), I didn't need to worry about getting back too early with that in hand. The cycle route as far as the Poole/Bournemouth boundary was very familiar, but after that I took a few wrong turns when following a google maps walking route (it doesn't do cycle maps for this part of the world yet). As a result the journey there took about 90 minutes, 15 longer than I had expected, but as I approached the golf course, two familiar faces from Purbeck, Rob Johnson and cousin James, assured me I was nearly there. I reached the 12th tee shortly afterwards. The shrike was out of view and I was concerned that it might have gone to roost early with the cold weather suppressing the availability of potential prey.

Bonaparte's Gull, Lodmoor, 20th May

Other birders present knew roughly where to look though and the Shrike soon perched up in view for a few photos. I didn't hang around too long in the cool of the evening, especially as the light was fading, and with the winds not as strong as I had feared, the journey home was smooth enough and completed comfortably before 2100. I was fine on the Wednesday, again probably underestimating my fitness level built up from the miles already under my belt this year.

Bonaparte's Gull, Lodmoor, 20th May

Thursday brought a sense of deja vu when a Bonaparte's Gull was located at Lodmoor during the day. Although the distance was about the same as for the shrike, one look at the forecast was enough to dismiss the idea as it would involve cycling directly into 50-60 mph south-westerly winds! With the experience of fighting into a gale at Cogden still fresh in mind, I shrugged my shoulders and tried to put it to the back of my mind. I finished work just after 1700 and the bird was reported as still present. It was obviously sheltering from the gale so unlikely to go anywhere, though who knows what it would do tomorrow?

Portland on a week night would be a bridge too far by bike - it would be dark by the time I arrived if leaving after work! So I indulged myself with a car journey to see this Chough on 11th May - a Dorset 'tick'.

This last thought was enough to tempt me into action against my better judgement, and within 10 minutes I was on the road again. In the end, whilst slightly hair-raising at times, the journey to Lodmoor never quite reached Cogden levels of terror - the headwinds slowed progress to a crawl at which very little damage could be done, and as they were hitting me head on the risk of being blown over by side-winds was greatly reduced. Which is not to say it wasn't an energy-sapping slog - on a scale of '0' to 'taxing' it was definitely at the 'taxing' end. But I pressed on through squalls and fallen tree debris and as I reached the edge of the Lodmoor reedbed I could see a few birders distantly on the west side where the Gull was last reported: a good sign that it was probably still there. Minutes later I was enjoying close views of the Bonaparte's and the efforts of the previous 95 minutes had all been worth it.

The Chough in flight over Dorset's version of machair!

The return journey was probably my most enjoyable bike ride to date. I stopped pedalling at one point on the steep hill up out of Weymouth and realised I was still being carried along by the wind. I clocked 20pmh on another uphill stretch out of Poxwell on which I had been reduced to a 5mph crawl during the journey down. 95 minutes on the way there was reduced to 80 on the way back, the psychological barrier of twitching on a school night had been broken, and more quality had been added to the year list, bringing the total to creditable 185.

I enjoyed a brief close view of the Chough but it would not look up! A shame it didn't stay until the weekend or a bike trip would definitely have been in order.

Mallorca day 9-10: back to the swamp

Day 9 on Mallorca was another rest day. I did little more than trundle to the beach at Port de Pollenca to photograph the desmarestii sub-species of Shag which is found in the Med, and was amused to find a few revellers from the night before enjoying the early morning light on the beach. Returning via the town's La Gola nature reserve, a few more Mediterranean Flycatcher were the main highlight. My son and I did manage a brief trip to the S'Albufureta - S'Albufera's little sibling - where an Osprey, more Stilts and my first Woodchat Shrike of the trip provided some interest, but otherwise day 9 saw me subject to the tyranny of time by the swimming pool.

Marbled Duck at S'Albufera

Marbled Duck is considered globally vulnerable due to habitat loss and hunting

Six birds were present in total

Two of the flock loafing on the water's edge

I find these rest days quite stressful so resolved to get up early the next morning while everyone else was still in bed and revisit S'Albufera. The mosquito bites from my first visit had changed by this point from angry red burning wheals to angry red itchy rashes, so this time I went better prepared. Long-trousers and boots got their first outing of the holiday, but covering my arms presented a dilemma as I had only taken one long-sleeved shirt with me: a dark blue number with tan trim which my sons would describe as a 'party shirt'.

Juvenile Black-winged Stilt, S'Albufera

Over 50 Stilts were on this one pool at S'Albufera

This youngster was attempting log-balancing

Adult female Black-winged Stilt

It was not your typical birder's outfit, and I did get some funny looks from other visitors as the morning progressed, the heat rose, and the inappropriateness of my attire became more apparent. I consoled myself with the thought that these T-shirt-and-shorts folks would be itching by the time they got home, while I would smugly be bite-free, protected not just by my disco gear but by the lashings of citron-scented insect repellant procured at vast expense from a local chemist.

This young Goldfinch landed on the street in Port de Pollenca

The Mediterranean desmarestii sub-species of Shag, Port de Pollanca

Med Flycatcher at La Gola, Port de Pollenca

Med Flycatcher, Port de Pollanca

Anyway, enough catwalk talk, there was birding to be done and it started well: the fine selection of herons from my first visit were still present, with Night, Squacco and Purple Heron in a variety of plumages. Before the sun had risen convincingly, a small flock of Greater Flamingo rose briefly above the skyline, just long enough to grab a few pictures.

Glossy Ibis - commonplace at S'Albufera

Juvenile Night Heron, S'Albufera

Purple Swamphen, S'Albufera

Immature Squacco Heron, S'Albufera

All very nice, but not yet what I was hoping for. S'Albufera is a good site for the Marbled Duck, a globally threatened species classified as 'vulnerable' by the IUCN and I had yet to see one anywhere in the world. Fellow Dorset resident Marcus Lawson had provided some potential site details including a lagoon on the edge of the reserve, but this had dried out in the summer heat unfortunately. The deepest water at this time of year would be on the main reserve and sure enough, as I entered a hide on the Sa Roca trail, first one, then two, and eventually half a dozen of these attractive waterfowl gathered in front of the hide. A good morning then, even though Moustached Warbler continued to elude me.

Greater Flamingo at S'Albufera

The flock held 13 birds in total

Adult Red-knobbed Coot at S'Albufera

Juvenile Red-knobbed Coot at S'Albufera

It was a productive return to the swamp, but one of the best moments of the day was yet to come: as I made my way home via the Port de Pollenca ring road, two large soaring white birds with black wing tips caught my eye. My instinctive reactive was 'White Stork' but on pulling over for a better view it became clear they were in fact Egyptian Vultures - a bird I had hoped to see on the trip but had been advised could be very difficult!

Egyptian Vulture, Port de Pollenca

Egyptian Vulture, Port de Pollenca

Egyptian Vulture, Port de Pollenca

Woodchat Shrike on the back roads to S'Albufureta

The end is nigh...

...no, not the end of the world (not quite yet, anyway), but the end of my review of 2018, broken down into two bite-sized chunks, of which this is the second. And if you're thinking 'well it's a bit late for all this', you'd be right. I spilt a bottle of water over my laptop over the Xmas break, and it took a while to recover the hard drive and procure a new one before I could bring these musings to you.

Purple Emperor, Bentley Wood

But back to 2018, and we pick up where we left off in July and the middle of the long, hot summer. The first day of the month saw me over the border in Wiltshire at Bentley Wood, well known for its population of Purple Emperor. It didn't disappoint, and a pristine male feasting on dog dirt provided some exquisite if smelly photo opportunities.

Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfly

My summer search for rare Odonata continued and I was lucky to catch up with Scarce Blue-tailed Damselfly on a local heathland just before the last of its breeding pools dried up in the baking sun. Even more exotic was a mini-invasion of Southern Migrant Hawkers - I travelled to Somerset to see my first only to find that the first for Dorset had turned up at Lytchett Bay when my back was turned.

Southern Migrant Hawker, Priddy Mineries, Somerset

August

The first half of August saw us in the French Alps for a family holiday. Two trips to the Col de la Colombiere provided some of the highlights of the trip - a couple of close encounters with Lammergeier, the first just above the car park at the col, the second a reward for an arduous climb to the ridge above the col.

Lammergeier, Col de la Colombiere

The col also held an excellent selection of butterflies, most notable among which were the rare Apollo and Mountain Clouded Yellow. We also enjoyed close encounters with Ibex and Alpine Marmot and a long list of new butterflies for my European list including, Alpine Heath, Lesser Mountain Ringlet, Meadow, Mountain, Shepherd's and Niobe Fritillary

, 

Apollo, Col de la Colombiere

Second only to the Lammergeiers for mountain majesty was a Short-toed Eagle which sat in a pine tree watching us as we got our of the car just below the Col de la Colombiere. My children continue to remind me how I babbled excitedly at complete strangers parked next to us about this and forced them to marvel at it through my telescope. Well I still maintain it was genuine interest they were feigning.

Short-toed Eagle, Col de la Colombiere

September

Back in Dorset and autumn migration was well underway with many common migrants passing through one of my favourite local sites, Greenlands Farm near Studland. Yellow Wagtails, Redstarts and Spotted Flycatchers were present on every visit along with the occasional Osprey. 

Spotted Flycatcher, Greenlands Farm

The end of the month saw me teaming up with David Bradnum, Howard Vaughan and Bob Vaughan once more on the long road north to Shetland. Before boarding the ferry we had seen a Woodchat Shrike and a Rose-coloured Starling at Barns Ness, and the American White-winged Scoter at Musselburgh - my second encounter of 2018 with this bird.

Woodchat Shrike, Barns Ness

October

Our week on Shetland was perhaps not a classic but we still saw some excellent birds - Citrine Wagtail, Eastern Yellow Wagtail, Pied-billed Grebe, American Golden Plover, Common Rosefinch, Marsh, Melodious and River Warbler being the highlights.

River Warbler, Unst

While the Eastern Yellow Wagtail was a tick for all four of us, views were brief and distant compared to a very obliging Citrine Wag which was present on Bressay during our stay. This bird allowed a close approach and when we had got as close as we dared it started walking towards us!

Citrine Wagtail, Bressay

Back on the south coast October was passing uneventfully - until the 15th that is, when news of a Grey Catbird in Cornwall got the birding world asking 'will it stay until the weekend?' Fortunately it did, and Jol Mitchell and I couldn't resist the lure of adding this stellar American rarity to our British lists. A jolly day with Messrs Bradnum and Lowen for company.

Grey Catbird, Land's End

November

After the excitement of Shetland and the Grey Catbird in Cornwall in October, I didn't get out much in November - but there was still time for the birding world to throw up a few more surprises in 2018. Chief among these was a late Little Swift. I had promised myself that the next time one of this species roosted on a building at dusk I would go and see it come off the roost at dawn. This one went to roost under a streetlight, allowing me the luxury of twitching it in the dark on arrival, staying over in a local motel and going back in the morning to photograph it in glorious sunlight.

Little Swift

Little Swift

Continuing the November swift theme, a Pallid Swift at Chesil Cove late in the month enabled me to add this species to my Dorset list, putting to bed the ghost of the Christchurch bird a few years ago which was taken by a Sparrowhawk just minutes before my arrival.

Pallid Swift, Chesil Cove

December

If November saw me not getting out much, December saw me go almost into hibernation, as opportunities to get out and about trickled to a halt. Just a couple of highlights spring to mind: a Mandarin Duck, a proper Christmas Cracker of a bird, which took up residence in Poole Park; and my last Dorset tick of the year, a very co-operative Little Bunting which spent a few days grovelling on the verge of a Portland side-street.

Mandarin, Poole Park

And so there you have it, a year in memories and pictures. With thanks as usual to all those who shared them, and particularly those who I neglected while searching for them!

Little Bunting, Chiswell