Early November saw just a brief opening of the eastern window on the 5th and on 6th I was able to make a dawn start on Gypsy Lane. Blackbirds were pouring inland along the coastal hedgerows joined by Redwings and as dawn broke Fieldfares chuckled overhead. It was cold and other passerines in the undergrowth and sycamore stand were scarce. I headed out onto the marsh where breeding Seals were hauled up above the main creek. Starlings were moving inland in numbers and finch movement was steady, I heard a couple of subtle "tics" overhead. Loosely assosciated with a small flock of Chaffinches, 2 hulking Hawfinch flew West, flashing swathes of white through the wing. Wading boot high across the path on the falling tide I headed to the dunes and sunk into the sands.
It was really busy offshore, 100's of Lapwing headed W in flocks of 20. Teal and Wigeon heading East. Merganser, Eider, Goldeneye and 1000's of Scoter at various distances plus the usual smatter of GC Grebe and RT Diver. Starlings and Skylark over the steel grey sea added to the subtle spectacle. After an hour I dragged myself away and back to the bushes. By mid-morning I felt I'd worked what I could pretty thoroughly and headed up the road to Titchwell where a Red Breasted Flycatcher had been seen. The chosen spot seemed a little dark and dank but a flurry of excitement revealed a grey and white Chiff with a bright yellow wing panel. It was being called as a tristis but was the Bonelli's looking type of eastern grey and white Chiff I have longed to see. I saw it a few times around the loop and, fickle with light, it did look browner with "tobacco" ear coverts at times, at others monochrome with shafts of highlighter yellow in the primaries. A cracking looking bird and one I'd have liked to have heard but alas it remained silent.
I chose to seek out the best interface, thinking specifically of how Ian Wallace (dimw) had shown me and Rich Baines the art of reading the lines of a canopy to locate where flycatchers can best locate insects against the light. I thought I'd found the best spot and another birder or two joined my speculative vigil. The fella behind me whispered, "I've got it" and with a few flicks the RBFly was sitting proud and spanking out in the open. I drunk it in and it moved back into cover, I decided to wander. Doing a loop around the fen sallows I slowly came back around to the chosen interface again but with the sun just breaking the clouds. In no time the Flycatcher perked up activity, the grey and white Chiff showed itself well and one, then two sprites revealed themselves, my first Yellow-brows of the autumn. I got home to learn the sad news that Ian Wallace had died - a birding hero since my early teenage days, in the late eighties and nineties, reading his hugely engaging and inspiring articles in Birdwatching magazine. Rich's work on Flamborough allowed me and Ben to meet with Ian on several occasions. They say best not to meet your heroes but in this case that proved wrong. A gentleman, full of insight and reflective humour, a total bird obsessive alert to all the potential and possibilities and keen to share his thoughts about the journey with those willing to listen with an open mind. Ben got to see in his briefcase once.
Last week the wind turned Northerly and I was able to get to the coast again for dawn with Mark Hawkes and later joined by Elyers - Mark x 2, Will and Ben. Our minds were on Dovekie, Little Auks, tiny pied bullets on a seawatch. The wind was raging in and shelter proved hard to locate but we found a sweet spot and after a few drenchings the skies cleared and the viewing was good. There was plenty to look at with steady movement of Kittiwake flocks into the wind being most enjoyable - these resilient gulls at their pelagic best. Eider, Mergansers and Goosander, Shelduck and Scoter all put in a show as did Divers with plenty of Red-throats, a decent view of a Black-throat and a distant Great Northern. A Black-necked Grebe made a short inshore flight but gave all the details it needed to before dissappearing into the swell and 4 Bonxies helped keep the idea if passage alive. A pale phase Skua defied specific identification, tempting to assume a Pom with several along the coast during the day but the plumage just didn't click. I had to be back in Ely for lunch but the return past the freshmarsh yielded an adult winter Grey Phalarope hectically feeding and a Water Pipit not far beyond it on one of the newly sculpted banks.
A quick look off the cliffs at Hunstanton produced little extra but more Kittiwakes and the odd auk cutting across the churning mouth of The Wash.
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