Away from Santa Clara County on April 22:

“Large straggly flocks flying north close to the water were Brent geese. There were also birds very high and in some kind of strung out formation. They may have been Brents but I have seen cormorants like this – although not in their hundreds as these flocks numbered.

“Other groups had about a dozen per flock, flew close to the water and looked like divers. I fancied red-throated from a slight drooping of the heads. Large straggly flocks of smaller birds completed the procession – scoters?

“None of these was really close enough to get any more than an impression of their general colour scheme. The sun was also coming round to behind them to make matters more difficult.

“Ideas, anyone? In any case it was certainly a sight worth seeing.”

This is like a lifer for me. I have one dodgy heard-only record from Rutland Water in 1999 but today’s bird by the South Hide, although still not seen, was unambiguous – a noise I can’t recall hearing before. It was more strident than I’d expected. A whopper of a grasshopper would be needed for that volume – bigger than we get in this country anyway.

True to form I was about to give up when the bird called. The morning had been good all the same with redstarts, one peregrine powering over and a brief glimpse of a barn owl, which alone would have made the day. One greylag goose was new for the reserve, as of course was the gropper. A singing garden warbler made it a hat-trick.

That took a few moments to identify but when it sank in, I realised that I’d heard one at Ham Wall on Friday. There’s a trick to separating it from blackcap that the field guides don’t tell you about. Yes, the song is quieter and more complex but I think the clincher is when you can’t decide whether you’re listening to a blackcap, song thrush or sedge warbler. The species manages to whistle through the repertoire of all these birds.

Swallows aplenty, a handful of sand martins and my year’s first house martin completed the roster for the visit.

Now the bad news. The monstrosity in the top picture is a new bridge that connects Port Marine to the Wharf. Behind it are a few of the extra houses that have sprung up in my time here. The bridge has been threatened a while and one had grown complacent that it wouldn’t happen. Now here it is. I’ve largely stopped going to the reserve because it’s already overrun with fucking dogs. Now the floodgates will truly open.

Just as bad will be the onslaught of people. The second picture shows the state of the middle hide when I got there – every single window and door open. The same was true for the tower hide. No log books in either; benches missing from the latter. We can expect worse.

And it’s certainly the end for the wildlife value of the site.

This species is fast becoming a Somerset speciality. Indeed that’s the only British county where I’ve seen it – first at Chew Valley in 2009, then a pair last year at Blagdon and Chew (again). And the two birds down at the Somerset Levels last Tuesday were highly likely this latter pair. They’ve been on their travels though, to the South Coast and back.

So have I. Since Widewater, I returned from a long weekend with the brothers at Steyning via Selsey Bill, which was quiet apart from the year’s first red-breasted mergansers. I tried without success for the hawfinches at Eastleigh, close to Winchester, before a yomp through Denny Wood in the New Forest in the hope of woodlarks. No joy with them either.

That was all Monday, with an overnight stop in Bournemouth so that I could hit seabirds and migrants the next morning at Portland Bill. Plenty of gannets, guillemots, fulmars, wheatears, a shag and one swallow. It’s summer! Then it was a haul up to Shapwick, which also had a marsh harrier, five ruff, booming bitterns and squealing water rails.

112 species for the month – not bad.

Now Somerset is my top British county with my first ever English occurrence of this white gull. Five years have elapsed since my last sighting at Fraserburgh; only Forfar and Ullapool have also contributed records. In with a distant roost of herring and lesser black-backs and the light fading fast, the Cheddar bird was nevertheless easy to pick out in its paleness.

Earlier the same day another bout of three new species at Chew Valley took that site racing past Upton Warren. I caught up with the long-tailed duck and the flock of yellowhammers while a mistle thrush sang in the distance for a surprising addition to the list.

Another theme recently has been early birds and yesterday was no exception, apart from being exceptional. Two Sandwich terns off Widewater Lagoon at Shoreham beat my 2006 record by 25 days! True, most of my sightings have been in Scotland but this does continue a trend of migrants weeks ahead of time. The weather has certainly been crazy enough this year to encourage them. Am I alone in thinking the last few weeks have been unnatural?

Or Cat’s Back or, most prosaically of all, Black Hill. But in any case the easternmost spur of the Black Mountains, which puts it in Herefordshire and thus in England. Which is rather exciting because the bird I heard yesterday (and Allan and Heidi saw, lucky them!) was only my third English record for the species. It follows the Forest of Bowland in 2003 and somewhere in Northumberland in 2006. Both a long time ago and it’s even nearly three years since my last encounter in the Pentlands. That’s what you get for moving away from Scotland.

Lagopus lagopus, which makes red grouse the nominate species of the ptarmigans. Yup, it’s really a willow ptarmigan and not a grouse at all but not many in this country bother with that.

So, it was a good year bird and several of those have started appearing lately. Today was my earliest wheatear, on the Severn Estuary coast south of Dowlais but north of Blake’s Pools. A distant grey plover was also new for 2011. Three days back, Upton Warren had my earliest little ringed plover and not quite earliest avocets. My trip to the Midlands also brought one peep from a tawny owl at the aunt’s place in Kidderminster.

Last week at Chew Valley the spotted sandpiper was showing well, the wintering garganey was still around and the Somerset list went up by one somewhat junk bird. An Egyptian goose has been hanging out by the picnic site for a while. I didn’t go for it but it found me as I scanned the causeway end for the long-tailed duck. No duck, but the one goose.

On 178 species Somerset now ties it up with Angus, which is a county with plenty of red grouse.

This is a bit of a crappy photograph taken on my iPhone, which is not a patch on the old Nokia (that I’m selling on eBay – hint, hint!) but it records my 115th species for the town. The list now overtakes my tally for Cupertino in California.

Greylags are surprisingly uncommon in North Somerset – so much that Chew Valley is my closest location for seeing them. Only slightly more common are merlins, one of which flew fast and low along a Portbury Wharf rhyne on the day of the swan-terrorising dog. Goosanders are rare too so today’s striking drake, also in the Marina, was a treat.

I’d struggled to identify one at Chew in the middle of last week as the light faded and then in even worse conditions at Heron’s Green picked out a scaup. “Nice one!” for Somerset species number 176 – just two behind Angus.

Ever wonder how injured birds come about? Here’s a clue. This afternoon at Portbury Wharf this sequence of pictures shows one possibility. Apologies for the quality: the action was fast and I only had my phone.

The black blob is a dog and it pretty much does a circuit of the pond in pursuit. The owner (he said he wasn’t but we’ve all heard that responsibility-evading excuse) initially tried to disassociate himself but came back when I turned the camera on him. Abuse was all he had to offer – typical dog-walker.

At first it looked like a buzzard, scattering the wigeon, teal and pintail at this West Sussex reserve. Then it banked to show a creamy white head and its true nature. It must be said that a juvenile, and maybe a female, marsh harrier has similar colouring to a dark morph buzzard so one does need the head for a positive identification. That or a good sighting to get the harrier’s quartering behaviour.

My bird landed straightaway and disappeared behind low scrub so
I didn’t get that luxury. I wondered if it had found a meal when it didn’t reappear.

This interlude followed stunning views of a female peregrine falcon, to the extent that this crappy digishot was possible (where does the yellow fringing come from?) I had to use my iPhone because my camera now discharges batteries within minutes and is effectively dead. I’ll have to work the poker tables some to manifest funds for a new one.

Both these birds of prey were new for my Pulborough list as were a couple of snipe and a calling crossbill. I may also have seen a female at the very tip of a tree but at the distance she was hard to separate from a greenfinch.

All that was on Tuesday and to continue the raptor theme, yesterday’s trip back from Steyning brought me two red kites. Not up the A34 or along the M4 as one might suppose but through the heart of Hampshire, near Old Winchester Hill. That’s my third record in that area so they are drifting south.

And they made a raptorlicious couple of days.

Lists are all the rage these days, especially those to tick before you die, so here’s my contribution. But with a difference: not for me the plain old best but, as a rabid lister, the locations to deliver the most varied bag of species. The concomitant geographic spread should also make this Top 10 truly British.

Close to Pokerbird WHQ, Somerset’s
Chew Valley Lake holds many freshwater species as well as the prospect of birds, chiefly herons, that are colonising from the continent. It’s especially good for small numbers, but a wide variety, of autumn migrants.

Over the Severn Estuary pine plantations in the Forest of Dean provide the setting for the next stop. It is not so much a location as an area, round Parkend and New Fancy View, that holds the highlights of both hawfinches and displaying goshawks. Nearby RSPB Nagshead completes a trio of spots within a two-kilometre circle.

Further north and inland, where Wales excels, Lake Vrynwy, only 60 miles west of the Black Country, is a breeding ground for many of our passerines. Away from its encircling deciduous woodlands, roads also lead up to the moors and their specialist birds.

Actually in the Midlands and easy off junction 5 of the M5 is the little Worcestershire Wildlife Trust reserve of Upton Warren. Its species list belies its small size as a mixture of salt and fresh water pools attract waders and seabirds as far inland as you can see them.

Even London gets in on the act with its excellent Wildfowl & Wetlands Trust (WWT) reserve at Barnes Elms. In terms of adding to the species, it really only supplies a couple of invaders – rose-ringed parakeet and Egyptian goose. But its proximity to such a mass of population alone makes it worthy of the Top 10.

The least controversial site is RSPB Titchwell on the North Norfolk coast, where just one day’s visit can yield more than 50 species. Its scrapes and lagoons hold a first-rate selection of waders year round to add to species offshore.

The RSPB reserve at Bempton on the Yorkshire cliffs, provides a maternity ward for Britain’s important seabirds. The spring and summer months really see the colonies come alive although a visit any time of the year is good for the surrounding farmland.

Another WWT reserve at Martin Mere fills the northwest England gap, apart from being a fine day out and not just for waterbirds. The site holds a small colony of tree sparrows and the neighbouring farmland has corn buntings.

Scotland offers unique Caledonian pinewoods, home to capercaillie, crested tit and Scottish crossbill. Few places are better to see them than Abernethy, which is primarily famous for its ospreys. Yet another RSPB site at Loch of Strathbeg, coupled with nearby Rattray Head, promises Scottish coastal watching. Here are Britain’s more northerly pelagic birds and waterfowl, especially in the winter.

10 sites and the possibility of 200 species by my calculations. That’s why I call them Top.

From Friday, July 9:

“Well, technically not Angus. Dighty Water in Dundee, to be precise. But in the birding world the two are lumped together.

“I have been living here for over a year and have visited Old Montrose Pier many times without ever catching up with the birds there, so it was getting frustrating. Indeed the day before this sighting I had pretty much frozen to death in the same spot looking for a non-existent ruddy shelduck and of course there was also no sign of the kingfishers. Incidentally isn’t it supposed to be warm in the middle of July? Maybe not with an Arctic wind blowing off Montrose Basin.

“Anyway I had just about given up at Dighty Water when I caught a flash of that metallic blue fly up to a branch, registered the rusty breast and then clearly spooked the bird into departing as quickly as it had come. I loitered for a while hoping that the bird would return but only managed to register a female blackcap in the process.

“The location also provided a singing sedge warbler to give me a Dundee list of 75 – not bad for about six months. There is quite a way to go to beat my best city list of 134 for Mountain View but that’s in California and it has the advantage of being on San Francisco Bay. It also took me three years.

“And it was considerably warmer.”