Day 182 and a half: the Halfway Review of 2025

What a six months of birding this has been! But (without it being the focus of the blog), I have alluded to the reality that 2025 has been, behind the scenes, more about recovery from trauma and a breakdown in 2024, and the goal behind the birding has been to slowly come back to a form of coping with the real world.  Progress is, with all things like this, predictably unpredictable, but there has been improvement, and a recent setback aside, I am coming to terms with a new reality.  Along with the blog I have been writing more deeply to help with this recovery, and may share some parts of this writing here, if people would find it helpful to have a vehicle to discuss recovering from mental trauma through birding.  

In terms of the birding, with 16 lifers - as many as the whole of 2024 - I have been focusing on the year list in the last three months, and hoping to pick up some new species as I move into the autumn.  I have had some really thought-provoking experiences, and enjoyed learning every time I've been out.  I've visited the main Mosses patch 77 times in the first half of the year (compared to 108 times in total in 2024), and Cutacre 51 (63 times in 2024), and feel like I have got to know both areas better as a result.  This has meant neglecting Pennington Flash and Burnt Edge, and I must invest some time across autumn and winter into reacquainting myself with those areas.

The halfway mark of the calendar year doesn't feel like the halfway mark of the birding year.  Given that we have two wintry spells each calendar year, two rainy and mild spells, and one humid summer swamp full of bloody horseflies, it feels a little like I've seen all the bird species I'm likely to see in an ordinary year of birding in the UK, with the unravelling of summer breeding migration leading to the short days of winter to come.  Of course, autumn is the season for unusual birds in the UK, and if we have one like 2023 with all the American vagrants, then there can be real interest in the novel for the next 5 months.  Having said that, all this autumn migration happens away from where I live.  Spring has the local distinction of the return of all the breeding birds; but autumn is locally about what has gone, rather than what is moving in.

Looking back:

I wrote at the time that my best day of birding in 2025 was almost certainly my first, January 9th, where I travelled to Northumberland to see White-billed Diver, Grey-headed Lapwing and Ross's Gull in beautiful sunshine and freezing wind.  While there have been a few experiences in the same ball-park birdwise, I stand by this as the most significant birding of the year - the day where I decided to get back out into the world after suffering a significant personal crisis and feeling full of doubt that I would ever again be able to enjoy myself without significant anxiety and depression.  The best bird of the month was the Ross's Gull, with that ephemeral quality and slight pink wash; though the White-billed Diver was a very close second.

In February I was delighted by a number of close encounters with species that I don't see often.  Aside from the two rare birds I saw this month (American Pipit and Eastern Yellow Wagtail), I also had great views of Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, Jack Snipe, Lesser White-fronted Goose in Lancashire and a Great Skua in Greater Manchester.  The American Pipit takes the crown of bird of the month, simply because it was so confiding and so charismatic, and the walk at Ross is so beautiful I still use the memory of it in a meditative way to calm me when I feel inner turmoil.

March was a month of teal, with Euro, Green-winged (lately lamented after the lump), Garganey and Blue-Winged.  A difficult solo trip to Scotland finally saw me land Ptarmigan as a lifer, and local Ferruginous Duck was a beautiful experience.  Black Scoter and Great Grey Shrike on the same day will live long in the memory, and a Shore Lark at Danby Beacon made up for the ones I'd missed at Oglet earlier in the year.  The Blue-winged Teal has to be my favourite bird of the month, though it wasn't a lifer - I just love the distinctive face patterns of the male!

April was a month for self-finds, with Bee-eater, Crane and Channel Wagtail on patch.  Spring migration made me smile and lose myself in nature across those lengthening days, and two lifers in Eastern Subalpine Warbler and Black Kite were very welcome.  The warbler is the bird of the month - searching for that wine-coloured chest in the dappled sunlight of the scrub at Filey at sunrise was incredibly fulfilling.

In May I only saw one lifer, Spotted Sandpiper, but it was so good to have that particular bird clawed back after dipping it locally.  The quality of wildlife on offer otherwise was remarkable, with stunning views of Honey Buzzard, Bluethroat, Red-footed Falcon, Great Reed Warbler, Nightingale, Turtle Dove, Dartford Warbler, Firecrest, Cirl Bunting, Nightjar and much more.  Spotted Sandpiper has to be the bird of the month for the associated back story, but the displaying Honey Buzzards at Wykeham were breath-taking and in any other year would be my favourite experience.

Surprisingly, June has been the standout month in terms of seeing new for me species of birds.  With four lifers across ten days, the Western Sandpiper, Song Sparrow, Ortolan Bunting and Pacific Golden Plover between 8th and 17th of the month were all surprisingly showy.  The Song Sparrow in particular is a contender for the crown of least expected bird of the year, and autumn will have to be pretty wild to better it.  A sun-drenched day in north Wales gave great views of summer plumaged Black Guillemots, and the Ruddy Duck in Oxon was such a pleasure to catch up with after all these years.  Savi's Warbler and Collared Pratincole in Lincolnshire were beautiful experiences, Pomarine Skua at Leighton Moss was the most unexpected bird this month until the Song Sparrow, and then an Ortolan Bunting in a mating attempt in a Yorkshire forest with a male Yellowhammer.  I suspect that might be the most bizarre thing I write about all year...

Just sneaking into the first half of the year on July 1st was the fantastic Blyth's Reed Warbler at Upsettlington and the newly showy White-winged Scoter at Musselburgh.

Looking ahead:

Plans for the second half of the year include a day or two on St Mary's, Scilly in late July or early August - though this is the first year in a while I haven't booked on a pelagic trip to see Wilson's Storm Petrels.  I found last year that I saw all the same birds (aside from Wilson's and a Long-tailed skua) from the Scillonian ferry - though the view is nowhere near as good as from the pelagic.  The outbound journey in 2024 included Sooty, Cory's and Great Shearwaters, Euro Storm Petrel, and self found Grey Phalarope and Sabine's Gull.  That would represent the biggest potential increase of the year list left available to me, barring some spectacular days in east Yorkshire later in the year.

As usual, a late September weekend will be spent at Spurn hoping for some good migration, and I also plan to attend MigFest for the first time.  If October follows its usual pattern, I'll be spending every weekend at Flamborough and suspect local hotels might do quite well out of me.

An effort this autumn will be made to finally see Leach's Storm Petrel on the Wirral after missing out the last couple of years, and I would imagine I'll be at Frampton Marsh at least once in October.  Winter birds wise I would like to see Glaucous Gull, Red-breasted Goose and Black-throated Diver, with Ring-billed Gull also high on the wish list.  My biggest target however will be Barred Warbler.  For the life of me I cannot ever see these chunky vagrants, and I missed five in 2024 alone.  I am determined that 2025 will be the year this painful omission falls. 

Here's to the second half of 2025 and continuing to enjoy the birding.