Not Waderless!

Reports came in during Friday of a wader-fall at Brandon - six Black-tailed Godwits and a Curlew were among the key arrivals that caught my attention.

Sadly, by the time I could complete my work and get to Brandon, both species had flown. 

With the reserve feeling increasingly quiet, and the weather increasingly ominous, I was left with more usual fare: several Ringed Plovers, 200+ Lapwing, three Green Sandpipers, a Common Sandpiper and a couple of Little Egrets. 

Then came the inevitable heavy downpour which sent me on my way a trifle disappointed at yet another wader dip (see also Waderless, last week).

However, with return migration now well underway it was only a matter a time until something new turned up, and so it proved with Monday's reports of a Wood Sandpiper at Draycote Reservoir.

So, ignoring the rain and the fact that every other birder in the country was in Suffolk, I headed straight to the overflow where it was still being reported through the afternoon. 

It was easily found, busily feeding along the broad stretch of shore from the overflow back along the exposed Hensborough Bank. 

The snapshot doesn't do it justice, in particularly its spangly back which seemed almost black-and-white in the gathering gloom of a rainy summer's evening. That long, strong eye-stripe is a key diagnostic, along with the square white rump revealed in a quick burst of flight.

With the lowish water levels exposing so much of Hensborough Bank it looked perfect for waders, so it wasn't a huge surprise when a Dunlin (already in its winter drabness) flew in to join the juv. Little Ringed Plovers, followed by a Common Sandpiper. 

Two Little Egrets and a number of young Yellow Wagtails kept me company on a contented, if wet, walk back to the car.

Bird of the day: Wood Sandpiper (Tringa glareola), a welcome local highlight which crops up on passage every few years. Only a very few breed in the Highlands, the rest in Northern Europe. They are now on their way to Africa, this one taking an extremely westerly route.

You say you want a resolution?

New Year's resolutions are - and let's be frank here - an utter waste of time. Useless. Pointless. Not worth the paper, or pixels, on which they are written.

Of course I'm sure you're the exception that proves the rule - that wilful chap or chap-ess who turned their whole life around with a heartfelt promise made on the stroke of midnight. 

But for the rest of us, we have a different tale to tell; the shared experience of repeated failure, self-loathing and recrimination.

So you'd think I'd have managed to kick the resolution habit by now, and to be fair I have. By and large. 

Unfortunately one crept under the radar this year: a commitment to get some proper birding in and strive for a decent county year list. 

And, in common with all New Year's resolutions, this one is already disastrously stricken; holed beneath the water line and listing (ahem) precariously to port. In short, yet another resolution is set to be wrecked before the last week of January has even begun.

A Winter Dunlin (photo: Andrew C)

Just how wrong has it gone? Well, the sum total of this year's birding to date has been two short family trips to Brandon Marsh, a bit of garden birding and a walk around the office.

So not much then.

This means the county list so far includes little more than my garden regulars, the routine Brandon wildfowl and gulls, the obvious farmland birds I've seen while out cycling, and only a couple of even-slightly-less-than-common sightings: a lone dunlin at Brandon on New Year's Day; a flock of lesser redpoll; and a shelduck today on East Marsh.

I'll still count it all when I get a moment, and endeavour to do better in the coming weeks and months.

But my hopes aren't necessarily that high.

Bird of the fortnight: Dunlin (Calidris alpina), a common and unremarkable wader, but not so much so in land-locked, winter-locked Warwickshire. All the more unremarkable to look at in winter for the lack of the black belly patch it sports throughout the breeding season.