Black-winged Pratincole and Montagu's Harrier

With the family away on their annual folk festival camping bank holiday weekend, I was at a loose end.  The weekend divided itself naturally into two trips: a day at Spurn to try and find my own scarce migrants, and a day of twitching the best of what all the better birders could find.

Spurn was frustrating, enjoyable in that there was good company and some interesting birds to see, but frustrating in that yet again, I managed to miss Barred Warbler.  In fact, I managed to miss Barred Warbler four separate times while present on site.  Well... maybe.  I have my doubts.  A Barred Warbler was ringed at the Warren about 15 minutes before I arrived on site, so I missed the chance to see one very close up.  However, the bird was then reported at the south end of the Canal at Spurn and I was three minutes away.  When I arrived, I was told that none of the crowd currently there had laid eyes on the bird.  The finder had vanished.  The complex of Hawthorn bushes where it had been hiding was crawling with Whitethroat, including a big pale juvenile, but after 45 minutes and no Barred Warbler, I started the long walk down to the point.  Finding Clouded Yellow butterfly and Wheatear in good numbers lifted my spirits, and the walk back from the point was pleasant, although I was beginning to feel the plantar fasciitis in my foot.  Then news broke that the Barred was at the Kilnsea end of the Canal.  I was there within 6 minutes of hearing the news.  Again, nobody there had seen the bird, and the reporter was gone.  Again, there was a pair of Whitethroat feeding a reasonably pale juvenile bird.  I gave it up as a bad job, and went for a pint at the Crown.

No sooner had I sat down, than the Barred was reported again at the South of the Canal.  I downed the pint, and legged it to the location.  Arriving no more than 10 minutes after the report, again, nobody there had seen the bird.  A couple of people shouted "Barred" half a dozen times when the juvenile Whitethroat appeared.  I don't know if people were really seeing the Barred Warbler and my karma is so poor that I'm never going to see one, or if people were hearing that there was a Barred present and seeing something that looked superficially right, and putting two and two together and getting seven, but either way, there had definitely been a Barred on site and I'd definitely missed it.  I drove home a little dejected and sore from 15 miles of walking.

I woke up on the Sunday late (for me) and had a lazy morning of coffee and reading.  Eventually, the reports from Lincolnshire of the Black-winged Pratincole I'd missed in Northumberland the week before wore me down, and I loaded the car.  Arriving in Lincs at a leisurely 11am, I was told I'd missed the bird by 5 minutes, and it had flown high and West.  I decided to give it some time, and sure enough, the Pratincole zoomed back in and roosted out of sight.  For 2 hours.  I was on the verge of giving up, of going home with just that view, when the bird soared overhead and caught flies for five solid minutes, allowing me to take some photos that are almost in focus.  It was such a positive feeling to redeem this bird, and almost no bird species are better to watch than Pratincoles... at least until the afternoon suddenly turned into the most unexpected twitch of my year so far.

Driving home happy, ready for a sleepy afternoon, news broke of a juvenile Montagu's Harrier at Marshside showing well.  This bird has been my Holy Grail for more than thirty years.  Having missed them in the 1990s in East Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and further south in more recent times, I've wanted to see a Monties since I was 10 years old.  I screeched in the tightest circle my wife's Fiesta has ever achieved, called Kris, told him I'd be outside his door in 2 minutes, and picked him up.  We were at Marshside 45 minutes later, and watching the orange and brown elegance of the Montagu's Harrier hunting like a Barn Owl over the salt marsh from about 500m away.  My photos really do not do any of the birdlife I've seen this weekend justice, but I was just happy watching this harrier unlock thirty odd years of anticipation, and I haven't stopped shaking with elated adrenaline since.  

A day that started with me refusing to go birding in a slight sulk over Barred Warbler dips ended with two incredible juvenile birds and the breaking of my second longest duck for any species.  Who needs a Barred Warbler when you can watch a hawking Black-winged Pratincole and a hunting Montagu's Harrier?  Well, honestly, I still do... but I'm filled with a sense of gratitude and the culmination of a boyhood dream.  I can wait for my Barred Warbler, at least a little longer.