This Saturday was a lot more relaxed than last Saturday. It was still birdy and there was a lot about, but no feeling that every bush and tree had to be checked and double checked to find the next rarity. I went out all morning and for most of the afternoon: Wormiston, Balcomie beach, Fife Ness and Kilminning. The stubble fields at Wormiston still have a lot of skylarks in them, although about a quarter of last weekend. I checked the best stubble field but couldn’t find any Lapland buntings. There was a large flock of what I thought was linnets but the flock was unusually silent except for a single bird calling its head off – a twite. The rest of the flock (it was gloomy and the flock was in flight) may well have been twite too. Balcomie Beach had about 30 dunlin, 10 ringed plover and two bar-tailed godwits apart from the usual suspects of redshanks, curlews and oystercatchers. The sanderling have gone or have been feeding elsewhere this week. There was a greenshank later at Fife Ness. I did two stints of sea watching at Fife Ness although only the morning with a telescope. There were a few little gull passing north, a distant Arctic skua harassing kittiwakes, some barnacle geese, a few red-throated divers and a notable flock of three black-throated divers heading north – later in the afternoon I got the set with a great northern diver passing on its way south. There were two highlights of the sea watches. The first was a pair of little egrets flying past the Ness and heading along the coast towards Crail. They are still a rarity on the Crail patch although these two were the 4th and 5th this year.
The two little egret passing Fife Ness this morning
The second highlight of the sea watching was a little auk, also passing in the afternoon as a tiny contrast to the hulk of the diver. My first little auk of the winter – easily identifiable even through binoculars as a small apparently headless auk, with a wobbling yaw flight and a black underwing. Nice to have them back this winter as well as last winter (that’s now 10 out of last 20 years with little auks although only 7 winters with them present because they tend to occur throughout the winter when they are here).
Little Auk (John Anderson)
Upper Kilminning still had a few chiffchaffs about – at least three – and a blackcap. Lots of redwings were about and a flock of 25 fieldfare passed over. Lower Kilminning unusually had three great spotted woodpeckers. I should think these were migrants enjoying their first trees after crossing the North Sea. There were more barnacle geese around the airfield today. A flock of about 45 were feeding with the sheep adjacent to Pinkerton. There are more barnacle geese than usual this winter. Usually they just pass through but this year they seem to be hanging around.
I popped into upper Kilminning for half an hour on my way to work this morning. I was after ring ouzels again, hoping for a good view. I heard a few deep chacks so knew early on that some were still about but it took 30 minutes before a small flock of dark thrushes got spooked from the centre of a whitebeam and circled the site a couple of times. Among the blackbirds was an adult female or juvenile male, with a fairly conspicuous white breast band, along with its longer tail and larger size to make it stand out. It flew over my head with the bright sun behind me so I finally got my good view before it disappeared again into the whitebeams. It still felt very birdy – 6 or 7 chiffchaffs, goldcrests, bramblings, redpolls, lots of redwings and a few fieldfares. There were so many birders at Kilminning at the weekend that it is unlikely that anything was overlooked, but it still felt a bit hopeful. In any case, a quick session with a ring ouzel and a few bramblings is a good bit of birding.
I had a comment over the weekend asking me where the vagrants go to when they leave us. Where, for example, will the Stejneger’s stonechat go when it leaves the airfield (it was still present there today)? Vagrants are almost always first winter birds. They have a genetically determined direction of migration, but this varies across individuals. Some go more east or west than others as they head south. Crucially, they don’t know where they are going. Small birds like chats don’t follow adults and their genetic program is of the nature of “fly south-west for the next 4 to 6 weeks or until you hit this type of habitat”. So if they get blown off course – hit strong easterlies that push them far from the normal routes, say to Crail – they will continue along the same predetermined direction. They can’t correct themselves because they don’t have a destination, just a direction to a destination. If an adult is blown off course, then they can correct. They have been to the wintering ground before and so know where they are going. This has been confirmed by displacing juvenile and adult starlings migrating from France to Spain to northern Italy. The adults re-orientated and flew to Spain, whereas the juveniles all headed down into Italy. So even if a young migrant is intending to end up in East Africa, or even India or Vietnam, once it gets as far west as Crail, its continuing journey will take it to West Africa. If they survive the winter then they may well make it back to the correct breeding ground (where they were born and their journey started, so a known destination). The big question is then – do they go back to the “wrong” wintering grounds the following year. I would guess yes, because migrants I have studied in Africa are incredibly site faithful, going back to the same bush in the middle of Africa year after year, for as long as they survive. This make sense because if a bird survives, then the wintering ground must be good, and certainly a better option than making another migration to an unknown destination. Juveniles have a much higher chance of dying on their first migration than in subsequent migrations: an unknown destination and route is an unpredictable thing, and unpredictability is dangerous. Then it becomes very interesting because if a whole lot of juveniles with a genetically heritable predisposition to migrate in a different direction from the rest of the population (say via Crail) survive in their new wintering ground, and these routes and wintering sites are then reused, then you have the start of the evolution of a new migration route. And in a changing climate (and climate always changes) this is a very good thing to happen. Some of those apparently lost vagrants may actually be the adventurers that discover and exploit new opportunities. We probably see this happening with yellow-browed warblers and red-flanked bluetails. They have become commoner and commoner over the last 40 and 20 years respectively, and they have started being recorded in West Africa. New migration routes and wintering areas are evolving as we watch.
And what about the Stejneger’s stonechat (I think I prefer the American name of Amur stonechat though)? This should be wintering in south-east Asia. It will not make it there this winter. If it heads south-east – the direction from Manchuria to Vietnam for example – it will end up in Nigeria. It would be happy there though. It seems to behave and feed just like a whinchat. Northern wheatears and willow warblers migrate every year from far eastern Siberia to central Africa (although not via Crail) so it could make its way back to China, and then again to Africa next autumn. But with a clear destination in its mind it would take a more direct route, so again, not via Crail.
The “lost” Stejneger’s stonechat (also called Amur stonechat) – (John Anderson). With some of the possibly diagnostic dark shafted reddish uppertail coverts showing.
Much less was reported today around Crail. No bluetail, barred warbler or ring ouzel, although there were still a few yellow-browed warblers and the eastern stonechat still about. There was a bit of clear weather last night so some of the migrants probably moved on, or possibly also the birders have moved on, yesterday satisfying most. I revisited the stonechat this afternoon and had a great hour with close views to try and puzzle out whether it was a Stejneger’s stonechat or a Siberian stonechat. It was feeding in the rank grass, thistle and umbellifers between the fence and the first buildings in the airfield. Not a beautiful place to come all the way to – a bit of post urban waste ground, but as a non-birding passerby, intrigued by what the crowd was looking at, commented – probably a lot like where it had come from in China or Mongolia.
A composite of photos of the Stejneger’s stonechat today, mostly digiscoped. They are washed out because of viewing through a wire fence and the haar
I wanted to have a good look at its rump. Yesterday it looked very pale and pinkish white in some flight views. But today, when viewed more closely and on a close perched bird, it was clearly a reddish, pale golden brown. John Anderson was able to take some great close up photos and a few of them show black shafts to some of the upper tail feathers. These are found only on Stejneger’s stonechats, although their absence doesn’t rule the species out. They are very subtle though and it is probably a good job that some diligent observation allowed a poo to be collected this morning for an attempt at DNA confirmation. Photos of other Stejneger’s stonechats that have been confirmed by DNA are a very similar to the Crail bird so I am now going strongly towards this species, particularly with the rump colour and dark shafted feathers in the upper tail coverts. Regardless, it is a very distinctive “species” – half whinchat, half stonechat – but all chat. And chats are always brilliant.
Two of John Anderson’s photos that show a dark shafted upper tail covert – top one you could imagine you are seeing the dark tail through a split in the feather but then the same line is there on the bottom photo in side viewThe putative Stejneger’s stonechat showing very well (John Anderson)
The haar was still very much around this morning and didn’t dispel until lunchtime. Visibility was very poor but it was completely still and great for hearing birds. I was out again for most of the day, but I left Kilminning to itself. There were lots of birders visiting today to see the bluetail and so it was well covered. I was just cycling out when a Richard’s pipit was reported from the track from Balcomie Caravan Park to Wormiston. I had taken the low road out of Crail instead which was a shame. I quickly cut across to the track and spent half an hour walking through the stubble field by the track with the initial finder trying to relocate the pipit. The field was full of skylarks, a few snipe and a flock of fieldfare that we didn’t see at all until they flew off as we retraced our steps back to the track. It was a very long shot considering we couldn’t even see a fieldfare in the field. Still, exciting nonetheless. Richard’s pipits should turn up on the Crail patch more than they do – this was the first in a very long time and there has been only one since I have been here (which I didn’t see).
I continued on to the yellow house past Wormiston farm. The garden is surrounded by a dense band of young trees and berry bushes making it a good migrant magnet, an island of cover in the fields, and close enough to Fife Ness to get the rarities. Not today despite an hour of careful looking. Although it was still very misty, you could hear everything, so there was a good chance of finding something, if it was there. I found a lesser whitethroat and a couple of chiffchaffs among the many robins (they are everywhere at the moment). One was very pale buffy brown, with a very striking supercilium, a hint of a wing bar and a soft, sad single syllable call. Something along the spectrum towards a Siberian chiffchaff, but without any brown on the ear coverts.
I cut across another stubble field to Balcomie. I was checking the line of sycamores behind the cottages and had just found a yellow-browed warbler when I heard an olive-backed pipit call twice from the cabbage field behind me. I looked for the bird, then it called again twice, this time from one of the sycamores at the end of the line. And then a few seconds later, another call. I checked my recording of olive-backed pipit call – spot on. I put the news out and then spent the next hour looking for the bird. Initially I thought it had flown into the sycamores, but after watching the area for a long time, I began to think that it was a flyover. You can see well in the area and any pipit feeding under and in the sycamores would have been obvious. I expanded my search to the whole Balcomie Cottages area, and although I found another two yellow-browed warblers and a ton of goldcrests and robins, no further sign of the pipit. All very frustrating. Although the call matched an olive-backed pipit perfectly, tree pipits also make a very, very similar call. Tree pipits migrate in August and one even in September is unusual. This time of year the balance of probability is with the very rare olive-backed pipit from Siberia. And considering the other eastern species we have with us just now, a very high probability. I won’t add it to my Crail list though: I can’t rule out a tree pipit and I like to have a bit more than balance of probability before adding a species.
At the same time I was looking to refind the olive-backed pipit, an eastern – a Siberian or Stejneger’s – stonechat was found at the Crail side of the northern part of Crail airfield. I went to look for it as soon as I had given up hope for my pipit. The weather had turned wet by then with light drizzle. Better visibility in one sense with the haar retreating, but worse in another with my binoculars getting wet every time I looked at something. The northern part of the airfield is a disaster of a site – a wrecked wasteland in the process of demolition and clearance. There is scrubby grass between the wrecked buildings and this is where the stonechat had been seen. I tried for another hour to refind the bird but again was unlucky. But I did have one of the best birding moments of the day. A snipe flew over calling and I looked up. With it, like its baby brother trying to keep up, was a jack snipe. As a snipe is to a woodcock, so a jack snipe is to a snipe. I know jack snipe are tiny, but this really brought it home to me. A late lunch and some dry clothes beckoned. I had one last walk along the edge of the stubble field by the track back to Crail to look for the Richard’s pipit. At one point a kestrel flew low over the field. Suddenly the sky was full of about 400 skylarks that had been in the field. Quite incredible. So many birds in just one field (although quite a big field). The Richard’s pipit really was a needle in a haystack if it was still there.
The eastern stonechat was refound about an hour after I got home. Just enough time to wash up and do the shopping for supper so I wouldn’t be in the dog house when my family returned from work to find me out again. I cycled back along the Wormiston track to find a small group of birders along the airfield fence. The stonechat appeared after about five minutes, giving good views low down among the grass behind the fence and then high up on an elder bush or building. I was able to see the important features to nail it as a Siberian stonechat and perhaps even a Stejneger’s. A very pale, pinkish, buff, perhaps even amber rump, a prominent whinchat like supercilium from front and some side views of the bird, that disappeared in other side views, a pale collar and a bright white throat contrasting with pale orangey washed whitish underparts. Overall it was much more like a whinchat in general appearance, but obviously with an all black tail. A nice bird and one I have not seen since I was in Kazakstan (back when it was spelled like that) in the 1990s. And number 238 for the Crail patch list. I will put it down as a Siberian stonechat for now, although it could also be the recently split Stejneger’s stonechat. They are very similar and DNA evidence has been used to confirm vagrant birds… There may be a poo collection expedition out there tomorrow hoping to get lucky as they watch it feeding along the fence. The best place to look for it is https://w3w.co/talents.movement.grins.
The eastern stonechat – Siberian or Stejneger’s – today at Crail airfield. The supercilium was quite amazingly conspicuous in some views – like a whinchat – and then almost invisible in others. When it was feeding on the ground it showed its very pale square rump well
There was a break in the easterlies this morning so the murk was dispelled and it was good birding weather. There were a lot of people out and more birds were found. I started in Denburn. Quiet with a few bramblings by the entrance. As I cycled out through the airfield a flock of cormorants flew over with a smaller bird with them – a single barnacle goose. Perhaps a straggler left behind last week, hitching a ride with anything rather than flying alone.
I continued at Lower Kilminning with my target bird being a ring ouzel. There were more blackbirds and redwings around along the sycamore tunnel past the entrances to the airfield so I was hopeful that they would have brought a couple of ring ouzels with them. As I cycled into Kilminning I saw a big flock of thrushes fly up from the corner, a big blackbird with them – as big as one of the fieldfares it was with. Probably a ring ouzel. A little bit later I heard the deep, angry chack of a ring ouzel from the centre of a whitebeam in the same corner. It flew off, chacking some more, to hide in another whitebeam. They are very shy birds and it was not enjoying the attention of the 15 other birders trying their luck at Kilminning this morning. Ring ouzels are special like pied flycatchers and redstarts – we should have them on passage every year, but very occasionally we don’t and there are never very many of them. And they never show themselves very well: without their call they would not stand out at all among the big blackbird flocks that arrive this time of year.
Barred warbler (John Anderson)
And then a barred warbler was found close by in the low sycamore in the south west corner. Unusually I was able to see it within a minute. Normally they are skulkers but this bird was happy to show itself, moving through the canopy or open branches lower down. Barred warblers are not that unusual autumn migrants to the east coast but because they are so skulking they get overlooked. I have seen barred warblers on the Crail patch now for 5 out of the last 20 years; I have also missed others in a few years. So they are always a good bird. Kilminning is the place for them in Fife.
Next stop was Balcomie, with another black redstart on the airfield buildings on the way. There was little wind now and strong sun so a complete contrast to yesterday. Everything that was sheltering yesterday was relaxing and feeding out in the open. Chiffchaffs, bramblings, blackcaps, lots of goldcrests and a yellow-browed warbler by the cottages. I was just thinking of heading to Craighead to drink my coffee while scanning the trees there when I got a message that there was a red-flanked bluetail about 100 meters from me.
I was there in a few seconds and again within a minute or two was on to the bird. My first view was poor – a back view – and I couldn’t see an eye ring or a blue tail – my first thought was redstart. But then it appeared again facing me and I could see the neat rectangular white throat stripe, the eye ring and the reddish flanks that identified it clearly as a bluetail. Although the blue tail itself was dull – often looking brownish, and you needed the light to be right for it to show its blue tones. I should have known better, I have noticed this before on other Crail bluetails. It’s not a subtle blue. It’s a proper rich blue, but you need to see the bird well to be able to appreciate it. The bird was in a small stand of sycamores that I look into every visit to Upper Kilminning and imagine that is perfect for a bluetail. So it was. I sat down by the trees – a low viewpoint always pays off for a bluetail. This one went into the canopy a bit, but mostly it was a meter or so above the ground. Quite a crowd gathered as you might expect and the bluetail showed itself reasonably well, occasionally really well, just a few meters away from us. My 4th red-flanked bluetail on the Crail patch, with two missed. The spectacular change in their status continues. They were legendary species when I started birding, but now I am coming to expect them on a three day damp October easterly. I drank my coffee and spent a lovely thirty minutes with what is becoming one of my favourite birds. The bluetail was still there at dusk as the haar came in: with rain also tonight things will not move on so it should be there to see tomorrow. Sit here https://w3w.co/dwarf.stir.civic and look here https://w3w.co/lifelong.taxi.balconies
The red-flanked bluetail at Upper Kilminning today – you can see the white throat patch, eye ring, red flanks and top left and bottom right a hint of the blue tail
Next the coastal path to Fife Ness. A brief rest with a bit of low concentration birding watching the seabirds go by. A black-throated diver went past – I also had heard one singing from the sea while at Kilminning earlier. This also happened two years ago in October when the Siberian thrush was there. Strange to hear their dusk breeding call not on a remote highland loch, but coming from the sea, or from a bird flying over. Many birds get hormonally “confused” in the autumn, because they use the length of the day, which is the same in autumn and spring, as the cue to start breeding. Or perhaps they are just happy to be back in the Forth for the winter.
Then the Patch. I failed to refind the red-breasted flycatcher even though it was seen and heard twenty minutes before. But there were lots of goldcrests and redwings to check through, turning up a lesser whitethroat and another yellow-browed warbler, and of course, woodcocks flinging themselves out of the dead leaves at my feet, out over the golf course before circling back to crash back down out of sight again. Birding fatigue was setting in now and the dog was getting reluctant to go round yet another bush and through some more nettles. I headed back after a really good day, checking the sycamores along the road to Crail. More flocks of redwings were coming as the easterly got going again and the murk redescended. There will be more to find tomorrow.
Goldcrest – one of the hundreds about today (John Anderson)
The weather I wrote about last night has delivered. Lots of birds arrived today and more were appearing as the day went on. Although good bird delivery weather is not necessarily good weather…it was as dark as a nuclear winter all day, and the rain showers made birding a bit difficult. But it couldn’t be missed, and I squeezed some time outside at both ends of the working day, grateful as always that Fife Ness is on my doorstep. I was out as soon as it got light enough, which today was a relaxed 8:30. Upper Kilminning is the place to go on a rainy late October morning with a strong easterly. Sure enough, lots of redwings and quite a few fieldfares mixed in; woodcocks popping up; lots of goldcrests to check through and as I tried to track down something calling a bit like a Pallas’s warbler, a short eared owl flew through the trees. I double checked it because this is more of a long-eared owl thing to do. The owl itself was obviously having an identity crisis because it then started hunting around me, stooping at redwings and chasing them through the vegetation. I had a couple of minutes of fantastic close flybys, with me at the epicentre of its hunting circuit. Short-eared owls have always looked relaxed and almost lazy to me with their slow flaps and glides, but this one was super charged, like a woodland buzzard or goshawk. It eventually regained its true character and drifted lazily off at treetop height towards Balcomie. One of the highlights of my birding year: close encounters with owls are always special.
As I was listening for rarer warblers I heard the distant cronk of a raven. Then a little later one flew directly over Kilminning, calling again. Ravens this close to Crail are still very rare. I have only had a couple of sightings of them around Fife Ness. With them now breeding regularly at Kippo and probably at another site nearby, I am hopeful that they become regular Crail birds (and a welcome addition to my garden list in due course, along with red kite).
I continued on to Balcomie to check the walled garden and the cottages. Lots of goldcrests and blackbirds – good indicator species of other things coming in. The rain set in again soon after 9:30 and I headed home. As I drove through the airfield a small wader flew over the road and landed in the stubble – a snipe with a short bill – a jack snipe. They are another bird that appears on a wet, late October easterly, briefly relatively easy to find before they reach their wintering ditches and become so immobile and inconspicuous that you need to almost step on them to discover them.
The rain and east wind continued for the rest of the day, with occasional dryer patches. Various alerts from the May Island came through occasionally to remind me that the birds were still coming in. Finally at 3 pm I could resist it no longer, especially when a red-breasted flycatcher was reported from the Patch at Fife Ness. I was there 15 minutes later and soon was watching it busily flycatching (unsurprisingly) among the sycamores in the north-west corner by the disused Heligoland trap. It was very active and never visible for more than a few seconds. And it seemed to be moving very rapidly, almost two places at once. The penny dropped when I heard two sets of calls (a dry, wren like rattle) coming from two different places and then converging – two red-breasted flycatchers having a small barney every time they met. Red-breasted flycatchers are rare birds here – recorded in 8 out of the last 20 years, and never more than a couple a year. Two together is exceptional. But they are likely to be around for a few days and the best strategy to see red-breasts is to stay put and wait for them to come to you. They do a circuit of 10-15 minutes. Some of my best views were from the edge of the golf course looking in to the area around the Heligoland trap.
Inspired by the flycatchers I spent some time creeping around the patch to see if anything else was about (among the woodcocks that kept popping up!). I found a female common redstart and then was put on to a yellow-browed warbler. Both great birds and indicative that with more searching tomorrow there will be something very rare that can be found. It was now getting even darker with more rain so I decided to get to Denburn to check it for bluetails. I stopped at Craighead to look through another flock of goldcrests, Among them was a lesser whitethroat. Another great indicator species at this time of year. Then a report of a black redstart came in from the car park at Lower Kilminning. I had to go and complete my daily set of redstarts. It was an easy bird to see, foraging along the edge of the tarmac and new bunds: a species that really appreciates a bit of urban architecture and one that will miss the tarmac when it is rewilded. And now being at Kilminning again I couldn’t ignore the usual good spots that could, quite literally, be hiding anything. Only more goldcrests, robins and redwings, although it was now really quite dark and most things will have been thinking about roosting. I made it to Denburn far too late to check it but cycled through anyway. You never know – perhaps another owl.
Red-breasted flycatcher (John Anderson). Not one of today’s birds – John was out there with me but it was very dark today. Better conditions tomorrow.
The winds are now easterly. They switched round yesterday afternoon and have been building up all day. There is rain forecast overnight. It should stay like this through to Friday. Good species have been accumulating on the May Island. There were yellow-browed warblers found at Kilminning and in Denburn Wood today. Everything is lining up for a fantastic weekend, when the rain will stop so that all the rarities that come in over the next two days can be found. If you are planning some birding in the East Neuk this week, make it this Saturday. I have written things like this before – and will again – and have got it completely wrong. But it is a reasonable bet.
Regardless of rarities the birds have been good so far this week. I had my first woodcock of the winter at Kilminning on Monday while I was fossicking around in the vegetation trying to count how many trees that we planted last March have survived (401 alive versus 114 dead – 68% survival in my sample across the whole site, which is pretty good considering the dry summer we had). Yesterday was a beautiful sunny and still autumn day. I took a natural history class around the Wormiston Loop, Balcomie and Kilminning and we got 66 bird species in four hours. Lots of mistle thrushes in – perhaps the most around Crail I have ever seen – and lots of redwings; a few chiffchaffs at Kilminning; two grey plover on the beach at Balcomie. I got excited by an initially poorly seen wheatear on the rooftops of Sauchope Caravan Park: the time of year and location making a rarer wheatear species more likely. It eventually perched in full view and revealed itself just as a juvenile northern wheatear. But when you take new birders out, every bird you find is special to at least one of the group, and this is catching. We found a family group of corn buntings, a flock of barnacle geese, some unusually confiding teal, a juvenile puffin reasonably close in and were treated to several attacks on redshanks by a juvenile male peregrine right in front of us as we had lunch on the beach. Today I stayed in mostly to free up time for later in the week but had a brambling over my head as I took the dog briefly down to Roome Bay and three late barn swallows feeding as fast they could above the sycamores of Denburn.
Norhtern wheatear: a view like this at this time of year gets you going…(John Anderson)
The westerlies continued this weekend. Despite this there was some seas watching to be had, as long as you were prepared to watch the horizon and make identifications on the barest minimum. Yesterday afternoon at Fife Ness I had a sooty and manx shearwater, and a pomarine and Arctic skua. This morning more Arctic skuas and a possible pomarine far out, some straggling small flocks of barnacle geese, and quite unusual for the time of year – a goosander passing. All weekend smaller birds have been coming in off the sea from Scandinavia. They have had to fly into the prevailing westerlies which will have made their crossings tough. Big flocks of redwings, some blackbirds, my first fieldfare of the year and lots of skylarks. The stubble fields at Wormiston were also full of skylarks although I didn’t find any Lapland buntings with them this weekend.
A redwing just about making landfall at Fife Ness after a headwind crossing of the North Sea last week (John Anderson)
At this time of year I am hoping to fill in the last holes in my Crail year list. There are always dependable birds which, for whatever reason, don’t get seen until late on. Today I got the last regulars (apart from tawny owl): a brambling flying over and calling at Kilminning and a juvenile grey plover on Balcomie Beach. I always expect to add bramblings at this time of year (except when we have occasional “brambling winters” and we have passage birds staying on to join the finch and bunting flocks in the stubbles). But grey plovers can turn up any time during the winter and they can make it on to the list on January 1st some years. They are never common though and we might have zero to three wintering along the shore between Kenly and Anstruther; some years one is resident at Balcomie. This year though they are in short supply. When I was at the Eden a couple of days ago I only counted a couple and they are usually common there. Keeping lists is ultimately very useful to pick these sort of things up. I expect it is just a blip – some years have more of a species than others – but keeping lists means that if it is not, then we will eventually definitely know.
Grey plover on Balcomie Beach (John Anderson). This and a brambling an hour later puts my Crail year list up to 169 (the record is 176)
I had some swallows on the Eden yesterday and some more on the Eden Estuary two days ago. Every swallow sighting at this time of year seems very precious. You are never sure when it will be your last for 6 months.
Although it has been serial westerlies, there have been some rain showers and the redwings have been arriving most nights, so there did seem a chance of some migrants at Kilminning this afternoon. Sadly not apart from a handful of chiffchaffs, some goldcrests and the occasional redwing. Patience is needed. October usually comes good and the middle of next week is looking interesting weather wise.
I went out this morning with the hope of finding just one good bird – something a bit out of the ordinary – and with the intention to then enjoy that one bird. My managed expectations were still fueled by the prevailing westerlies. But in the end I found several and had a great morning out in some lovely warm, autumn sunshine. I did the full Wormiston – Balcomie – Fife Ness – Kilminning loop because I wanted to check out the stubble fields at Wormiston. First thing I noticed was lots of skylarks and meadow pipits popping up. Always a good sign and after about a kilometer of zigzagging across the stubble fields I put up a Lapland bunting. Another local Crail specialty just like the yellow-browed warblers that we missed completely last autumn and winter. So another welcome return. The bunting flew up with its “trr-ruck” call followed by a “chew”, and its distinctive, powerful flight. It then did the very characteristic circle back high in the air above my head. The trick is to stay on a Lapland bunting when they fly up – they invariably come back and circle the area giving you a chance of a reasonable view. Corn buntings, yellowhammers and reed buntings just head straight off, staying relatively low and move to the field edge or the next field. Skylarks, of course, do the same high field circling as Laplands, and can have the same rapid escape flight, but they always slow down and semi-hover. Laplands just keep at it until they suddenly plunge back down into the stubble.
There have been lots of geese passing today. Mostly flocks of pink-footed, but some flocks of barnacle geese. The flocks often leave hungry stragglers behind when they first reach landfall: I found a barnacle goose feeding hard on its own – although with some roe deer doing the same – in a field at Wormiston. There were whooper swan flocks passing through Fife as well today. I saw one of them, a flock of 16 making landfall between Fife Ness and Cambo and about 20 to 25 minutes later they were reported passing over Anstruther, 8 km away as the swan flies.
The lone barnacle goose left behind to feed up as its flock mates headed on to the north-west coast of England, but with roe deer for company
I sat at Fife Ness for 40 minutes. The sea was the quietest it has been for months. Only one guillemot, some common scoter and 4 red-throated divers, and the usual gulls, shags, eiders and gannets. But small birds were arriving from the sea and further east all the time – mostly meadow pipits and skylarks, but also a snow bunting that I, by pure luck, picked up far out to sea and was able to follow until it was identifiable and made landfall at Balcomie. I also had a redpoll flying over – probably another Scandinavian migrant just in. I finished up at Kilminning. Quiet again. There were a few chiffchaffs about, long-tailed tits and goldcrests. In another week we might start expecting things to hot up with any amount of easterlies and rain: when the winter thrushes and woodcocks arrive on masse. I watched a late season speckled wood butterfly: an autumn regular now at Kilminning. It was defending a little patch of sunshine between hawthorns and pines.
The speckled wood butterfly today- formerly rare around Crail, but now regular late summer at Kilminning
It has been a relatively quiet week. The wind has been westerly, migrants are scarce and the sea bird passage has reduced massively. Today there were barely any kittiwakes passing, no terns (my last were a juvenile common tern and three sandwich terns at Red Sands last Sunday) and very few auks although some of these were puffins. I did have my first flock of barnacle geese for the winter coming into the Forth at dawn, halfway between Crail and the May Island in their usual ragged and messy looking flock, low to the sea against the strong headwind. A flock of pink-footed geese came over my house a bit later in a neat V to show them how to do it, although they were also going very slowly west into the wind despite their aeronautical formation.
Barnacle goose flock heading along the Forth in their usual disorganised flock (John Anderson)
There have been a few lingering summer migrants this week. I had a lesser black-backed gull at the mouth of the Kenly Water among the big flock of Canada geese that is still there. There have been a couple of chiff-chaffs singing in St Andrews and the occasional flock of swallows passing through. I heard some house martins high above Crail on Sunday too. But the summer is pretty much gone now.
My highlight this week was not around Crail but worth repeating anyway. I was out with a class counting oystercatchers (again) on the Eden Estuary yesterday. The estuary is a great place and I wished (again) that it was on the Crail patch. Five little egrets, a Slavonian grebe and a great crested grebe – all Crail rarities but easy on the Eden. Best of all – an adult white-tailed (sea) eagle. A real Crail rarity despite the fact that they have been breeding in Tentsmuir for a decade. We had a juvenile sea eagle around Crail in 2010 – one of the dispersing juveniles released in 2009 – it hung around the old “free range” pig farm at Cellardyke for a few days eyeing the piglets… I even had one flying over Roome Bay. But none since. The eagles have all, very sensibly, gone off to breed around the forested lochs of Perthshire. They prefer nice, prey rich lakes to bleak shorelines. Yesterday’s eagle was “Turquoise Z” – it has a wing tag on one wing to identify it. A bird released in 2009 so perhaps even the Crail bird. Turquoise Z has grown up into a very handsome male – now 15 years old – with the pale head (almost like a bald eagle) of a mature adult. And a bit of a boy. It started nesting in Tentsmuir in 2013 and has done so successfully ever since. In 2017 he even managed to breed simultaneously with a second female on a nest 28 miles away in Angus, commuting between the two nests and getting a single chick fledged from each one. White-tailed eagles are fantastic birds and it is brilliant to have them back in the Scotland, and indeed the east of Scotland again. The students enjoyed it too – and a lot easier to count than the 1400 oystercatchers.
Turquoise Z – the local adult male white-tailed eagle that is often resident at the Eden estuary. Look at how small the carrion crows look…A decent photo of an adult white-tailed eagle (John Anderson) – a west coast bird on Mull
October already. But the wind has gone round to the west and this afternoon’s temperature was 16 degrees, so less of an autumn feeling compared to last week. This morning started out well with a ruff flying up from the newly harrowed field next to Pinkerton as I went past. It headed up west over Crail. The sea has really quietened down with a much slower rate of passage past Fife Ness this morning. One sooty shearwater, three manx shearwater, a red-throated diver and a juvenile arctic skua past in 45 minutes. Not very many kittiwakes but 40 or so little gulls feeding well out. But Balcomie Beach was back in business with 40 ringed plover and a few sanderling back to join the 150+ dunlin. I had my first redwings of the winter at the Patch. Otherwise it was quiet inland with no obvious migrants at Balcomie Cottages or Kilminning. I saw the female merlin again, flying around the field south of the go-kart track chasing skylarks, before it headed off to the airfield. I hope this means we have at least one resident for the winter. Sometimes there can be three spending the winter around the airfield.
Wild Crail 