Brace yourself folks, I’ve been busy.
_______________
And so it begins….Finally, the last days of 2024 were a distant memory, and the pent- up excitement for the new birding year was allowed to escape. New Year’s Day was a write- off completely, so my birding year actually started on January 2nd. My big day out in Caerlaverock. The one I look forward to from each autumn onward. So you’d think it’d all go smoothly, right?
Actually…..
It turned out I was somehow completely unprepared, meaning I slept in and was frantically trying to get kit together in the morning. My plan (from bitter experience) to leave before dawn fell by the wayside and once again I resigned myself to driving into the rising sun for 80 or so miles. My tentative plan to visit Ken Dee Marshes was discarded equally quickly.
Having negotiated the Lanarkshire roadworks on the motorway I realised with a falling heart that I’d left my scope tripod in the living room. There was no way I was going back for it, and I realised that this would be a very much scope- less visit. A throwback to the old days. The gift of sight removed.
I received the usual welcome at the visitor centre, noting that the car park was full. Good to see, despite the inconvenience of parking in the last remaining muddy space. Mud on boots- great. Mud on family car- not so great.
Immediately, got tree sparrow, greenfinch, chaffinch and house sparrow on the feeder. Last year’s Tree Sparrow failure forgotten about. The WWT have lowered their prices which was an unexpected boost, though I made a donation to take it up to the full price. A wander along to the Folly Pond found it partially frozen, but did get good numbers of wigeon and a smattering of shelduck. Lots of life in the hedges along the path to the Sir Peter Scott Hide, and a confiding yellowhammer sitting atop a tree.
The Sir Peter Scott hide got all of the usual, expected suspects, with no surprises. Good numbers, as expected. The walk around to the feeders was equally productive, with collared dove showing well. The feeders themselves a hive of activity and well worth a dawdle.
The walk to the Saltcot Merse observatory was pleasant in the sunlight, but unspectacular bar predictable woodland species. A raptor flew overhead suddenly, giving me only a fleeting glimpse. My first thoughts were Marsh Harrier, but I genuinely couldn’t get a good enough look. The Observatory was where my lack of scope started costing me, with an egret of indeterminate size being visible in the distance. An easy pick for the scope, but I couldn’t get a look at it while using the window ledge to balance it. A GW egret was seen in the area, but it was also in exactly the same spot I’d had little egret. Ah well, the year is young….
I realised quite early this wasn’t going to be a tick- festival, and instead decided to spend as much time as possible retracing my steps. The feeders got multiple visits, the Folly Pond and Sir Peter Scott Hide also. Eventually, it was time to go, a healthy 27 year ticks, and while it was a very enjoyable few hours, to my mind it lacked the ‘oomph’ of a spectacular day out.
The next day was a stay local day. I made a point of booking some annual leave for the start of the month in order to go birding as often as I could. I realised that not all, if any, of the trips could be big days out, but I could still get some decent birding in. My plan, as much as there was one, was to wander down the Clyde and onward to Fin Me Oot. And this is where a decent birding memory and local knowledge comes in. After ticking BH gull and magpie near my house, I also managed to get redwing and rook near Uddingston Grammar school, in the patch of trees where I seem to get them every year. Always brilliant to see rooks in the ‘wild’ rather than eating seeds from a feeder at Lochwinnoch, or worse still, sitting on a bin outside a supermarket. A pair of goosander wandered aimlessly on the Clyde, but the water level was high enough that nothing else really stood out.
The walk to Fin Me Oot was notable for the Birnam Dead Woods being alive with Long- tailed tits. Thankfully, advancing years and loud rawk music haven’t affected my ability to hear them, and once heard, they’re easy to see. Fin Me Oot itself was quiet, the railway people had put up new fencing, quite badly as it offered plenty of room for intrepid birders to crawl under, should the need overtake them.
A pair of foxes were the highlight, with one stalking along a field before disappearing into the undergrowth, and another calling distantly. Viewed from the top of the hill the sunlight caught its plush red coat, and I made a note to check each time I came back. The Rotten Calder itself was almost bird free, bar a wee brown jobby that looked sort of goldcrest-y, but without giving me a good enough look. No grey wag or dipper, but the year is young, and this won’t be the last time I go to my special place.
On the way back, as I carefully navigated through the ice patches, a great- spotted woodpecker called from the woodland fringe. Couldn’t get eyes on it, but its call pierced the cold afternoon air. The setting sun, cold air, and general feeling of tranquillity made the walk home very enjoyable.
Saturday was a family day, and Sunday saw me squeezing in a couple of hours at Baron’s Haugh. Not enough time for a full day, but I was determined to make the most of it. The day was cold and bright, the air clear, sound travelling quite far. My new birding- year excitement meant that I was, for once, completely attuned to the sights and sounds of the reserve. A nuthatch called from the top of the path, albeit I couldn’t get eyes on it. The barely- susceptible sound of goldcrest matched with the shadows and silhouettes of them flitting through a yew tree. The path to the Marsh hide got lots of small bird action, too fast, too fleeting to get a good look at. Local photographers had put seed out strategically, and for once their needs, the needs of the birds, and the needs of us birders correlated. Nuthatch showed well, as did blue tit. The water was partially frozen, albeit the Marsh Hide area seemed to have the largest area of unfrozen water. Grey Heron showed well, but distant. Teal also present, along with mallard and moorhen. Coot was another year tick, as was the cormorant which flew off south-westward.
A birder in the hide told me that jay had been flying to and fro for most of the morning. Sadly, they were taking a break when I was there, and I wandered around to the Causeway Hide. There an already good day got even better. I bumped into a couple of the Lanarkshire RSPB local guys, birders who had been very generous with their time, knowledge, experience and kit when I was taking my first tentative steps as an outdoor birder. Great chat, the icing on the cake being a kingfisher showing ridiculously well on top of a reed. A quick visit, sure, but with multiple elements coming together to make it greater than the sum of its parts.
Monday saw me embarking on a pre- planned trip to Ayrshire, specifically the familiar Fairlie- Hunterston expedition. Unlocal knowledge told me that Fairlie was good for greenshank and little egret, plus merganser, eider and others further out on the water. On arrival, the tide was quite far out, but I quickly got teal, wigeon, common gull, herring gull and oystercatcher. A walk round to the viewpoint found the burn to be unusually quiet. A local dog walker stopped for a chat, and commented on the dearth of egrets visible today. Within seconds of her leaving, however, a little egret flew in and landed right where it should be. I stopped and watched, taking time to set up the scope and just soak in everything that I could see.
I continued my journey, and within a few feet I spotted a greenshank splashing in the water. Stopped again, gazed again, and drank in the sights again for another few minutes. First greenshank of the year, but I’d have stood and stared even if it had been my 20th. Reached the bench at the end of the path, sat down, and chilled. By now a local beach scavenger was on the sand/ mud, with dog walkers also making an appearance. The birds, in other words, were making themselves scarce and I took this as a sign that I should start my walk to Hunterston.
A brisk, but careful walk along the still- icy pavement was uneventful, bar a pair of bullfinch popping out of the trees just as I approached the slip road that takes you to the broad Gull Walk sands area. Once at the sands, the tide was still quite far out, meaning I’d have to work for my birds. Oycs, redshanks, wigeon all in good numbers. Gulls also, albeit nothing spectacular, and slightly disappointingly, no great black- backed gull. There were, though, shelduck showing splendidly in the sunlight. I know better than to say that any site is a banker bet for any species, but the Gull Walk has a few predictable species that qualify as “reliable.” Shelduck is one of them. A good chat with a couple of local birders qualified the day as outstanding. Sharing stories, sharing knowledge, sharing time with other birders is good for the soul.
Half- formed plans for the net day fell by the wayside, though I squeezed in a brief visit to Hogganfield Loch. Given that it was a normal workday, the car park was surprisingly full. Sure, the majority of people there were walkers, with or without dogs and prams, but there were also a good few birders on site too. Definitely good to see.
I’m not keen on ticking things at the car park- a bit arbitrary, sure, but it seems a bit of a cheat to tick anything whilst its getting fed stale bread. The usual suspects were visible, including a very few whoopers (thanks again birdflu) Moving anti- clockwise around the loch I got lots of coot, lots of tufties, and a winter- plumage great crested grebe. It got me thinking that it should be possible to tick these things twice a year- summer and winter plumage, to really do them justice. Greylag goose partially blocking the path were also a year tick.
Upon reaching the beach at the far end of the loch I set up the scope, hoping for pochard and little grebe. No luck with either (pochard are officially my 2025 bogey bird already) but I did catch a glimpse of goldeneye. I retraced my steps for a better view, and was fortunate enough to get a lone female and a few males, including one making a half- hearted attempt at a courtship display. A few practise tilts of the head, but with no real effort going into it, and definitely didn’t impress the female whatsoever. We’ve all been there, mate.
This was the last day of my leave, and was faced with a return to the horrors of having to work for a wage that pays for nice things and train tickets. Within minutes of starting back at work I was making plans for the net weekend. I realised with shock that I hadn’t set foot in Lothian all year (alright, the year was a week old) but still, this had to be rectified. I knew from experience that Longniddry Bents/ Ferny Ness offered damned good birding, and unsurprisingly I also felt it important to make an appearance in Musselburgh.
I left the house at 7.45am for my train to Bellshill, before catching a connection to Edinburgh. I was excited about finally returning to Lothian, and also still had some residual ‘new place’ excitement for Longniddry. For once, everything went to plan, and saving myself 90 minutes travel time gave me 90 more minutes birding time. It was a bitingly cold day, but I got on with it. I wasn’t going to let it put me off what I had been looking forward to in anticipation for days. I’m not prone to complaining about weather, a perfectly reasonable response is “Its January, in Scotland. Get over it.” I admire the people who have mastered the bluntness of this. Almost as much as I admire the hardiest of hardy folk who don’t actually feel the cold.
Now that I’ve set the scene, the birding itself was exceptional……
I arrived in Longniddry at 10am, with a 20 minute walk to the sea front. Immediately upon setting up my scope I got common gull, wigeon and black- headed gull. A walk along the path and further scanning of the water got long- tailed duck. A LOT of long- tailed duck. Stunning looking birds, it helped we were benefitting from decent sunlight. A wren popped up from a bush, and popped back down again. Brief glimpse for a tick, though I suspect that I’ll see a few more wren as the year progresses.
Upon reaching the car parks, I immediately got turnstone on the rocks mong the oystercatchers and gulls. Further along, the turnstone were further inshore, pootling about on the scrubby grass. Another species I’ll never get bored of watching. A passing birder, clearly on his way home and looking fairly done- in stopped to let me know that it was mostly the ‘usual suspects’ on the water, and almost as an after-thought, mentioned the red- necked grebe among the velvet. Usual suspects right enough…..
Scanning the water got the velvet scoter, and ridiculously easy views of the red- necked grebe. The perfect mixture of a year tick and damned good bird to look at. A chat with another birder let me know that there was also a Slavonian grebe on the water. I thanked him, and started along the path towards its end where I could get a look into the bay. He shouted me back, and told me he had a winter- plumage black guillemot in his scope. Unfortunately, this chap- Jeremy by name- was about 6ft 6, and had to lower his scope substantially to let me see through it, after we both failed miserably to get it in mine. Camaraderie among birders- Jeremy you were a complete gent.
The water was perfectly still, the air crisp and clear, the viewing conditions absolutely perfect. From the end of the path I was able to scan the bay, and got curlew, turnstone, oycs, and bar- tailed godwits in excellent numbers. I spent some more time watching the long- tailed ducks doing their thing, then headed back to the station for my train to Musselburgh. All in all, an almost perfect visit. Good birds, including year ticks. The only downside was the incessant shooting from the estate inland from Longniddry. Reinforced my loathing of the hunty- shooty set, but not even they could take away from my positive glow.
Having gotten the train, I arrived at the middle scrape in Musselburgh to find a pair of male pheasant fighting over a female. A female who was ignoring the pair of them. A scan around got me lapwing, Canada goose, and nothing else. A sustained cold spell freezing over the pools was not conducive to a big day.
The walk to the sea wall didn’t get me my hoped- for stock dove, but the year is young, and I think I’ll be back in Musselburgh at some point….My initial scan of the water got me not one, but two red- throated divers. The flat, calm sea and sunlight showing them up perfectly. Within a few minutes I got another Slavonian grebe, albeit much further out. Merganser floated quite close in, again looking wonderful in the (by now fading) sunlight. A walk to the new scrapes didn’t produce anything. The sound of voices from the first hide made me stop short, and I began retracing my steps. I remembered that I’d had stonechat on this path before, but by now I wasn’t really hoping or expecting anything else, and my mind had turned to going over and reliving the day’s events. As a result, the movement to my left caught me completely unawares. A female stonechat popped up onto one of the baby trees, and stayed long enough for me to get a damned good look through the scope. Perfect!
By now I was weary, and wary of the disgruntled football crowd that would soon be leaving Edinburgh for Lanarkshire, and I hastened back to Wallyford to begin my journey home.
THOUGHTS
So, a damned good few days out. My Big Day at Caerlaverock was, in retrospect, less enjoyable than the shorter, less- big days I’d had. ‘Small’ days, but more frequently. The short visit to the Haugh, and even Hoggy just seemed more fulfilling. Maybe I’d hyped Caerlaverock up in my mind, or maybe I really am just enjoying being able to sneak in some birding here and there, over and above planned days out. Those planned days, however, have definitely offered me much more this year than I could have hoped for. Sure, 71 ticks by January 11th is pretty good, but even beyond that everything seemed to fall into place to make days out enjoyable, leaving me with a really positive feeling.
When I was diagnosed with an under-active thyroid years ago I was advised that the best way to manage my symptoms was to eat little and often. My birding in 2025 so far has been exactly this. As diets go, this is one I can see myself sticking to.
Stay healthy, stay brilliant folks.
John
_______________
And so it begins….Finally, the last days of 2024 were a distant memory, and the pent- up excitement for the new birding year was allowed to escape. New Year’s Day was a write- off completely, so my birding year actually started on January 2nd. My big day out in Caerlaverock. The one I look forward to from each autumn onward. So you’d think it’d all go smoothly, right?
Actually…..
It turned out I was somehow completely unprepared, meaning I slept in and was frantically trying to get kit together in the morning. My plan (from bitter experience) to leave before dawn fell by the wayside and once again I resigned myself to driving into the rising sun for 80 or so miles. My tentative plan to visit Ken Dee Marshes was discarded equally quickly.
Having negotiated the Lanarkshire roadworks on the motorway I realised with a falling heart that I’d left my scope tripod in the living room. There was no way I was going back for it, and I realised that this would be a very much scope- less visit. A throwback to the old days. The gift of sight removed.
I received the usual welcome at the visitor centre, noting that the car park was full. Good to see, despite the inconvenience of parking in the last remaining muddy space. Mud on boots- great. Mud on family car- not so great.
Immediately, got tree sparrow, greenfinch, chaffinch and house sparrow on the feeder. Last year’s Tree Sparrow failure forgotten about. The WWT have lowered their prices which was an unexpected boost, though I made a donation to take it up to the full price. A wander along to the Folly Pond found it partially frozen, but did get good numbers of wigeon and a smattering of shelduck. Lots of life in the hedges along the path to the Sir Peter Scott Hide, and a confiding yellowhammer sitting atop a tree.
The Sir Peter Scott hide got all of the usual, expected suspects, with no surprises. Good numbers, as expected. The walk around to the feeders was equally productive, with collared dove showing well. The feeders themselves a hive of activity and well worth a dawdle.
The walk to the Saltcot Merse observatory was pleasant in the sunlight, but unspectacular bar predictable woodland species. A raptor flew overhead suddenly, giving me only a fleeting glimpse. My first thoughts were Marsh Harrier, but I genuinely couldn’t get a good enough look. The Observatory was where my lack of scope started costing me, with an egret of indeterminate size being visible in the distance. An easy pick for the scope, but I couldn’t get a look at it while using the window ledge to balance it. A GW egret was seen in the area, but it was also in exactly the same spot I’d had little egret. Ah well, the year is young….
I realised quite early this wasn’t going to be a tick- festival, and instead decided to spend as much time as possible retracing my steps. The feeders got multiple visits, the Folly Pond and Sir Peter Scott Hide also. Eventually, it was time to go, a healthy 27 year ticks, and while it was a very enjoyable few hours, to my mind it lacked the ‘oomph’ of a spectacular day out.
The next day was a stay local day. I made a point of booking some annual leave for the start of the month in order to go birding as often as I could. I realised that not all, if any, of the trips could be big days out, but I could still get some decent birding in. My plan, as much as there was one, was to wander down the Clyde and onward to Fin Me Oot. And this is where a decent birding memory and local knowledge comes in. After ticking BH gull and magpie near my house, I also managed to get redwing and rook near Uddingston Grammar school, in the patch of trees where I seem to get them every year. Always brilliant to see rooks in the ‘wild’ rather than eating seeds from a feeder at Lochwinnoch, or worse still, sitting on a bin outside a supermarket. A pair of goosander wandered aimlessly on the Clyde, but the water level was high enough that nothing else really stood out.
The walk to Fin Me Oot was notable for the Birnam Dead Woods being alive with Long- tailed tits. Thankfully, advancing years and loud rawk music haven’t affected my ability to hear them, and once heard, they’re easy to see. Fin Me Oot itself was quiet, the railway people had put up new fencing, quite badly as it offered plenty of room for intrepid birders to crawl under, should the need overtake them.
A pair of foxes were the highlight, with one stalking along a field before disappearing into the undergrowth, and another calling distantly. Viewed from the top of the hill the sunlight caught its plush red coat, and I made a note to check each time I came back. The Rotten Calder itself was almost bird free, bar a wee brown jobby that looked sort of goldcrest-y, but without giving me a good enough look. No grey wag or dipper, but the year is young, and this won’t be the last time I go to my special place.
On the way back, as I carefully navigated through the ice patches, a great- spotted woodpecker called from the woodland fringe. Couldn’t get eyes on it, but its call pierced the cold afternoon air. The setting sun, cold air, and general feeling of tranquillity made the walk home very enjoyable.
Saturday was a family day, and Sunday saw me squeezing in a couple of hours at Baron’s Haugh. Not enough time for a full day, but I was determined to make the most of it. The day was cold and bright, the air clear, sound travelling quite far. My new birding- year excitement meant that I was, for once, completely attuned to the sights and sounds of the reserve. A nuthatch called from the top of the path, albeit I couldn’t get eyes on it. The barely- susceptible sound of goldcrest matched with the shadows and silhouettes of them flitting through a yew tree. The path to the Marsh hide got lots of small bird action, too fast, too fleeting to get a good look at. Local photographers had put seed out strategically, and for once their needs, the needs of the birds, and the needs of us birders correlated. Nuthatch showed well, as did blue tit. The water was partially frozen, albeit the Marsh Hide area seemed to have the largest area of unfrozen water. Grey Heron showed well, but distant. Teal also present, along with mallard and moorhen. Coot was another year tick, as was the cormorant which flew off south-westward.
A birder in the hide told me that jay had been flying to and fro for most of the morning. Sadly, they were taking a break when I was there, and I wandered around to the Causeway Hide. There an already good day got even better. I bumped into a couple of the Lanarkshire RSPB local guys, birders who had been very generous with their time, knowledge, experience and kit when I was taking my first tentative steps as an outdoor birder. Great chat, the icing on the cake being a kingfisher showing ridiculously well on top of a reed. A quick visit, sure, but with multiple elements coming together to make it greater than the sum of its parts.
Monday saw me embarking on a pre- planned trip to Ayrshire, specifically the familiar Fairlie- Hunterston expedition. Unlocal knowledge told me that Fairlie was good for greenshank and little egret, plus merganser, eider and others further out on the water. On arrival, the tide was quite far out, but I quickly got teal, wigeon, common gull, herring gull and oystercatcher. A walk round to the viewpoint found the burn to be unusually quiet. A local dog walker stopped for a chat, and commented on the dearth of egrets visible today. Within seconds of her leaving, however, a little egret flew in and landed right where it should be. I stopped and watched, taking time to set up the scope and just soak in everything that I could see.
I continued my journey, and within a few feet I spotted a greenshank splashing in the water. Stopped again, gazed again, and drank in the sights again for another few minutes. First greenshank of the year, but I’d have stood and stared even if it had been my 20th. Reached the bench at the end of the path, sat down, and chilled. By now a local beach scavenger was on the sand/ mud, with dog walkers also making an appearance. The birds, in other words, were making themselves scarce and I took this as a sign that I should start my walk to Hunterston.
A brisk, but careful walk along the still- icy pavement was uneventful, bar a pair of bullfinch popping out of the trees just as I approached the slip road that takes you to the broad Gull Walk sands area. Once at the sands, the tide was still quite far out, meaning I’d have to work for my birds. Oycs, redshanks, wigeon all in good numbers. Gulls also, albeit nothing spectacular, and slightly disappointingly, no great black- backed gull. There were, though, shelduck showing splendidly in the sunlight. I know better than to say that any site is a banker bet for any species, but the Gull Walk has a few predictable species that qualify as “reliable.” Shelduck is one of them. A good chat with a couple of local birders qualified the day as outstanding. Sharing stories, sharing knowledge, sharing time with other birders is good for the soul.
Half- formed plans for the net day fell by the wayside, though I squeezed in a brief visit to Hogganfield Loch. Given that it was a normal workday, the car park was surprisingly full. Sure, the majority of people there were walkers, with or without dogs and prams, but there were also a good few birders on site too. Definitely good to see.
I’m not keen on ticking things at the car park- a bit arbitrary, sure, but it seems a bit of a cheat to tick anything whilst its getting fed stale bread. The usual suspects were visible, including a very few whoopers (thanks again birdflu) Moving anti- clockwise around the loch I got lots of coot, lots of tufties, and a winter- plumage great crested grebe. It got me thinking that it should be possible to tick these things twice a year- summer and winter plumage, to really do them justice. Greylag goose partially blocking the path were also a year tick.
Upon reaching the beach at the far end of the loch I set up the scope, hoping for pochard and little grebe. No luck with either (pochard are officially my 2025 bogey bird already) but I did catch a glimpse of goldeneye. I retraced my steps for a better view, and was fortunate enough to get a lone female and a few males, including one making a half- hearted attempt at a courtship display. A few practise tilts of the head, but with no real effort going into it, and definitely didn’t impress the female whatsoever. We’ve all been there, mate.
This was the last day of my leave, and was faced with a return to the horrors of having to work for a wage that pays for nice things and train tickets. Within minutes of starting back at work I was making plans for the net weekend. I realised with shock that I hadn’t set foot in Lothian all year (alright, the year was a week old) but still, this had to be rectified. I knew from experience that Longniddry Bents/ Ferny Ness offered damned good birding, and unsurprisingly I also felt it important to make an appearance in Musselburgh.
I left the house at 7.45am for my train to Bellshill, before catching a connection to Edinburgh. I was excited about finally returning to Lothian, and also still had some residual ‘new place’ excitement for Longniddry. For once, everything went to plan, and saving myself 90 minutes travel time gave me 90 more minutes birding time. It was a bitingly cold day, but I got on with it. I wasn’t going to let it put me off what I had been looking forward to in anticipation for days. I’m not prone to complaining about weather, a perfectly reasonable response is “Its January, in Scotland. Get over it.” I admire the people who have mastered the bluntness of this. Almost as much as I admire the hardiest of hardy folk who don’t actually feel the cold.
Now that I’ve set the scene, the birding itself was exceptional……
I arrived in Longniddry at 10am, with a 20 minute walk to the sea front. Immediately upon setting up my scope I got common gull, wigeon and black- headed gull. A walk along the path and further scanning of the water got long- tailed duck. A LOT of long- tailed duck. Stunning looking birds, it helped we were benefitting from decent sunlight. A wren popped up from a bush, and popped back down again. Brief glimpse for a tick, though I suspect that I’ll see a few more wren as the year progresses.
Upon reaching the car parks, I immediately got turnstone on the rocks mong the oystercatchers and gulls. Further along, the turnstone were further inshore, pootling about on the scrubby grass. Another species I’ll never get bored of watching. A passing birder, clearly on his way home and looking fairly done- in stopped to let me know that it was mostly the ‘usual suspects’ on the water, and almost as an after-thought, mentioned the red- necked grebe among the velvet. Usual suspects right enough…..
Scanning the water got the velvet scoter, and ridiculously easy views of the red- necked grebe. The perfect mixture of a year tick and damned good bird to look at. A chat with another birder let me know that there was also a Slavonian grebe on the water. I thanked him, and started along the path towards its end where I could get a look into the bay. He shouted me back, and told me he had a winter- plumage black guillemot in his scope. Unfortunately, this chap- Jeremy by name- was about 6ft 6, and had to lower his scope substantially to let me see through it, after we both failed miserably to get it in mine. Camaraderie among birders- Jeremy you were a complete gent.
The water was perfectly still, the air crisp and clear, the viewing conditions absolutely perfect. From the end of the path I was able to scan the bay, and got curlew, turnstone, oycs, and bar- tailed godwits in excellent numbers. I spent some more time watching the long- tailed ducks doing their thing, then headed back to the station for my train to Musselburgh. All in all, an almost perfect visit. Good birds, including year ticks. The only downside was the incessant shooting from the estate inland from Longniddry. Reinforced my loathing of the hunty- shooty set, but not even they could take away from my positive glow.
Having gotten the train, I arrived at the middle scrape in Musselburgh to find a pair of male pheasant fighting over a female. A female who was ignoring the pair of them. A scan around got me lapwing, Canada goose, and nothing else. A sustained cold spell freezing over the pools was not conducive to a big day.
The walk to the sea wall didn’t get me my hoped- for stock dove, but the year is young, and I think I’ll be back in Musselburgh at some point….My initial scan of the water got me not one, but two red- throated divers. The flat, calm sea and sunlight showing them up perfectly. Within a few minutes I got another Slavonian grebe, albeit much further out. Merganser floated quite close in, again looking wonderful in the (by now fading) sunlight. A walk to the new scrapes didn’t produce anything. The sound of voices from the first hide made me stop short, and I began retracing my steps. I remembered that I’d had stonechat on this path before, but by now I wasn’t really hoping or expecting anything else, and my mind had turned to going over and reliving the day’s events. As a result, the movement to my left caught me completely unawares. A female stonechat popped up onto one of the baby trees, and stayed long enough for me to get a damned good look through the scope. Perfect!
By now I was weary, and wary of the disgruntled football crowd that would soon be leaving Edinburgh for Lanarkshire, and I hastened back to Wallyford to begin my journey home.
THOUGHTS
So, a damned good few days out. My Big Day at Caerlaverock was, in retrospect, less enjoyable than the shorter, less- big days I’d had. ‘Small’ days, but more frequently. The short visit to the Haugh, and even Hoggy just seemed more fulfilling. Maybe I’d hyped Caerlaverock up in my mind, or maybe I really am just enjoying being able to sneak in some birding here and there, over and above planned days out. Those planned days, however, have definitely offered me much more this year than I could have hoped for. Sure, 71 ticks by January 11th is pretty good, but even beyond that everything seemed to fall into place to make days out enjoyable, leaving me with a really positive feeling.
When I was diagnosed with an under-active thyroid years ago I was advised that the best way to manage my symptoms was to eat little and often. My birding in 2025 so far has been exactly this. As diets go, this is one I can see myself sticking to.
Stay healthy, stay brilliant folks.
John