September Delights! Bird Report for September 2026

In spite of a few days of unsettled weather there were birds galore, with a number of uncommon, scarce and rare species joining the regulars to make for a memorable month. Highlights - if it is fair to dismiss the more common species that form the bulk and mainstay of daily birding - include Buff-breasted Sandpiper, Curlew Sandpiper, Dotterel, Garganey, Velvet Scoter and Wryneck. Read on for details of these and other delights. 

What better way to introduce this month's offering than mention of the return of Brent Geese to my local patch. Regular readers will know that I do of course refer to the Pale-bellied type, here, which is a common winter visitor. Having spent the summer months away on their breeding grounds in artic Canada and Greenland, some of the population choose, for reasons known only to themselves, to overwinter in small numbers on the shores of Lock Ryan. And for that I am very grateful. The first birds I saw were a part of five which graced the Scar during the early morning of the 6th. I might have overlooked them because of the strong back-lighting that rendered the scene a silhouette, obscuring all but the prominence of the spit against a shimmer background of water highlights at dawn: fortunately, the birds' presence was betrayed to me by their distinctive calls which drifted through the open window of my home's viewing station, triggering me to crank up the magnification of my 'scope and look more discerningly at the shapes that appeared before by gaze. After a slow start the number of birds increased towards the month's end, with a high of 54 birds at the Scar on the 25th. 

That curiosity of a bird, the hybrid Canada Goose X Barnacle Goose that I reported on last month was still about at Loch Connell this month, on the 20th and 28th, where it accompanied a mixed flock of Canada and Greylag Geese. My peak count of Canada Geese at this freshwater site was 276, and for Greylags, 72, recorded on the 28th. The first of the season’s Pinkies (aka Pink-footed Goose) arrived to my local patch on the 11th, when I heard birds calling high overhead. Looking up I saw a small flock of 15 birds heading in a southerly direction. My largest count of Mute Swan was 59 at Loch Ryan on the 24th and 25th, whilst the first Whooper Swan of the winter period was a singleton observed at Loch Connell on the 28th.

Sketch of a presumed Canada X Barnacle Goose hybrid

Loch Connell was, once again, an excellent place for seeing an array of dabbling ducks. On the 7th there was a male and female Gadwall whilst later, on the 28th, a handsome drake Garganey was a surprising and yet delightful visitor. Mallard here peaked at 72 birds on the 7th although I suspect that numerous others remained unseen within the beds of Sweet Reed-grass and Sallow carr. Shoveler were present on all of my visits, with a maximum of four birds on the 28th, which included two drakes, curiously patterned in their plumage yet distinctive to observers familiar with their transition out of the eclipse state. Then of course there were the dapper-looking Teal. Always entertaining to watch, providing you can see them, that is. They have a habit of concealing themselves amongst emergent and marginal vegetation, leaving the only means of detecting their presence is to listen out for their fluty whistles. Occasionally an otter will flush them, causing a sudden rush of birds from cover to the comparative safety of open water, whence they cluster in a flock that may readily be counted: that, at least, was the scenario on the 28th when I managed to log a minimum of 142 of these diminutive dabblers. It is often much harder work picking out individual Wigeon from amongst a medley of brown-looking waterfowl that are all dressed in an eclipse plumage. I registered a singleton at the freshwater loch on the 11th and four on the 13th.

Common Scoter on Loch Ryan were, in all probability, more commonly occurring than my few records this month might suggest. One of the difficulties in assessing their presence and numbers is based on the learned experience that birds are often far from shore; thus, they can be difficult to detect, even when aided by the high power of field-scope. Couple this with variations of weather, surface water conditions and light, and it becomes easy to understand that the odds are not always in favour of the observer. My highest count of this species was just 38 on the 14th. September is the official count month of Eider within the region of the Firth of Clyde. I was, again, lucky to be tasked with covering Loch Ryan. The recent trend for the species within the region is one of marked decline, although Loch Ryan has not been so dramatically affected as some sites. 83 birds was my peak count, on the 25th, compared with last years total of 111. Adverse weather affecting viewing conditions this year is likely to be a contributory factor in this reduction but is by no means the only reason. On the brighter side, I saw three male Velvet Scoter (a distinctly scarce species on my local patch) in Wig Bay on the 9th. The general paucity of wildfowl on sea-loch this month was made up for by good numbers of Red-breasted Merganser, which included counts of over 100 birds on six days, On the 9th, I logged a high of 233 birds, whilst on the 23rd an impressive party of 40 birds sat out on the Scar - one of those once in a blue moon observations, I can tell you!

A count of 12 Little Grebe at Loch Connell on the 28th was unusual and therefore notable, while at Loch Ryan on the 14th I logged my first Slavonian Grebe of the autumn: two birds at the Wig, which were dressed in summer plumage, though looking a little bit worn due to wear. Earlier, on the 7th, I spied the first of the autumn’s Red-throated Divers; thereafter, sightings were regular although the number of birds involved were relatively few, with a high of 17 (including three juveniles) on the 21st.

There was a decent variety of waders this month although, alas, the once regular visitor and breeding species Common Sandpiper was not one of them. To divert your attention away from gloomy thoughts there were, however, other goodies to be enjoyed, starting with Bar-tailed Godwit. I recorded this species on seven occasions across the month which, in itself is pretty good going, or so I reckon. My highest count was six birds at the Scar on the 23rd, but it was the 14th that imprints upon my memory: viewing from the car park at the Wig I saw a party of four birds out on the Scar. By the time I had walked along the track leading to the wartime observation hut, stopping frequently to enjoy views of other birds along the shore and in the adjacent fields, I thought the godwits might have moved elsewhere. They had remained put, however. Looking through my ‘scope I was able to determine that one of their number was a male in resplendent breeding attire, wearing a red vest that began at the base of his bill and extended uniformly down to the junction with his tail. Any superlatives I might choose would have been insufficient to do his appearance justice. I saw a close relative of the aforementioned species, Black-tailed Godwit, on just two occasions at the Scar: singletons on the 8th and the 23rd.

One of the month’s highlights was irrefutably a Buff-breasted Sandpiper (a transatlantic vagrant) that I saw about the Wig on the 15th. It was a classic text-book bird whose overall colouration matched that of burnt ochre, which just so happens to be a staple hue in my field box of crayons. I was thus able make a few sketches as well as snap some photos of the bird as it pottered about on the hard standing and grass of the field next to the observation hut mentioned earlier. It was still present the following morning, occupying the very same strip of land as it had the day before…that was, of course, until the arrival of a couple of mobile camper vans came and parked on the concrete standing, causing the bird to take flight and disappear out of view. What I presume was the same bird appeared a few days later, on the 20th, when it flighted in to visit Loch Connell and where I happened to be on one of my routine counts of birds. My final sighting (presuming it to still be the same bird, though by no means guaranteed) was of a bird in the Pool Field at the bottom of Fisher Lane, on the 23rd.

Sketch of juvenile Buff-breasted Sandpiper at the Wig on the 15th September

Curlew frequently occupied the fields about the Wig, with a high of 99 birds on the 15th. A juvenile Curlew Sandpiper was a nice surprise to see at the Scar, on the 3rd, where it readily mingled with mixed parties of other small waders. Further sightings of singletons of this species were made on the 8th, 9th and 15th, but whether not it was the same individual on all occasions is not known. A Dotterel, seen amongst a flock of larger plover that rested on the the tidal flats at the Scar was perhaps an even more exciting discovery than the Buff-breasted Sandpiper, which I saw only minutes before; I have certainly recorded the species fewer times on my local patch than the American visitor, in spite of the fact that a few pairs still breed on the Cairngorm plateaux, a relatively short distance away in the Highlands. Alas, my observation of the bird was cut short when a dog charged into the flock of birds, putting them all to flight. They tried resettling a couple of hundred yards away but the dog was hell bent on having its fun and its owner not perturbed enough to check the animal’s pleasure.

Sketchbook study of juvenile Curlew Sandpiper

I only ever saw small parties of Dunlin but they were spread across the month. The largest flock noted was of 18 birds, on the 3rd and the 15th. Numbers of Golden Plover at the Scar rose from 12 on the 7th to a peak of 226 on the 19th. I logged just one Greenshank and that was at Loch Connell on the 7th. Two Grey Phalarope seen flying past the Scar, on the 30th, was an unprecedented encounter for me on my local patch. One second they were there and the next they were gone. A single sighting of two Grey Plover at the Scar on the 22nd was my only record of this species during the month. I had just two records of Knot at the Wig: a singleton on the 11th and a small flock of eight on the 19th.

Once again all of my observations of Lapwing were from Loch Connell, with 36 on the 7th and eight on the 13th. A high tide count of 139 Oystercatcher at the Wig on the 11th was good for the time of year. Observations of Redshank were, not unusually, few; however, a singleton at Loch Connell on the 13th was notable, indeed.  There was a mid-month peak in the passage of Ringed Plover at the Scar. A sizeable flock of 262 birds was an excellent count (the highest on my patch in a long time) on that memorable day of the 15th. It was followed a few days later on the 18th by another impressive count of 160 plus birds. I saw Ruff on three occasions at the Scar, involving singletons on the 8th, the 18th and the 23rd. All of the birds were juvenile males, recognisable by their much larger size compared to females. It occurred to me later that male birds of this species were all I ever saw on my local patch. Okay … I have recorded a female, or two, from time to time during my 18 year residency in the area … but these have been exceptions to the norm. Presumably, similar patterns are displayed by other species, which beg the questions: ‘which, and why?’ Food for thought, me thinks!

Observations of Sanderling were spread across the month, though they were more frequently occurring within the first half. My highest count of them on the local coastal strip was on the 3rd, when I logged 38 birds which, incidentally, included two stunning-looking, summer plumaged adults along with a host of juveniles. Another strong count was of 24 juveniles, on the 23rd. A whip of 42 Snipe at Loch Connell, on the 13th, was a delight to behold as they zig-zagged across the sky before settling at the margins. Back at the Scar it was good to see Turnstone in double figures, with a peak of 24 on the 30th.

I saw Kittiwakes passing the Scar on three occasions: an adult on the 10th, followed by 14 on the 17th and three on the 27th. The only species of tern that I recorded this month was Sandwich Tern, with ten entries in the logbook concerning small flocks that were either on, or seen passing, the Scar. 31 was was my highest count of this species, on the 14th, whilst the last entry comprised eight birds at the Wig on the 27th.

Bearing in mind last month’s comment regarding Black Guillemots on the sea-loch, I logged just two observations of the species this month: a singleton on the 18th and two birds on the 27th. A lone Guillemot at the Wig, also on the 27th, was my only record of this species. Happily, I had a few more sightings of Razorbill, recording them on six occasions, beginning with two on the 10th and ending with a high of 20 on the 27th. Regular visitors throughout the month were Gannets, with a peak count of 26 birds on the 7th. Shags were more obvious this month than last. Often, during the early part of the morning I would look out from my house and see clusters of them feeding in the shallow water beside the Wig Car Park, occasionally coming together, like a well organised naval fleet. An armada to with reckoned with by any unsuspecting fish, to be sure! On the 23rd I logged a total of 178 birds, split between what was a fine sight of 92 at the Wig and 86 sat on the end of the dilapidated pier at Cairnryan.

The increase in the number of martins and swallows that I was anticipating -  a final farewell flourish, if you like, before departure to their wintering grounds - never happened. I recorded a little over 46 House Martins on the 5th, with numbers decreasing thereafter to a single bird on the 27th. Eight Sand Martins were over the village of Kirkcolm on the 16th, with the last birds being two at Loch Connell on the 20th. Swallows peaked at 60 plus birds on the 13th, declining to three on 30th.

Other bird observations of note this month here follows, appearing in alphabetical order.

For a variety of reasons I have not been particularly fortunate this year in recording many warblers. A first-winter Blackcap was thus a welcome entry in my logbook on the 15th and 16th. Singleton Chiffchaff were in my garden on the 9th, 18th, 25th and 28th. Records of Grey Wagtail on my local patch have generally been lacking so far this year so it probably safe to assume that the four sightings I had this month involved passage birds. Two together at the Wig on the 11th made a change from the usual singles that I encounter. A minimum of 120 House Sparrows was an excellent tally for my garden, on the 9th. Kingfishers are always notable, hence my inclusion of one at Loch Connell on the 7th. Distant flocks of finches are typically problematic to determine to species level. Fortunately, I had close views of one such swarm over the Wig fields on the15th, estimating there to be some 200 Linnets. Moorhens at Loch Connell are not always the easiest of birds to catch sight of, so I was pleased to register what I consider to be an excellent count of 11 on the 28th. A juvenile female Peregrine, also at the same site and date as the previous species, kept the Teal closely hugging the margins the whole time it remained on vigil atop a prominent boulder.

The local woods have come alive to the sound of singing Robins. On a very short walk through one part of the Corsewall Estate, on the 11th, I counted 20 of these songsters, making for a dramatic change from the silence of summer. Rock Pipits, too, have become more frequently observed, with highs of seven along the seashore on the 11th and 25th. Flocks of Rooks do not always receive my full attention but on a visit to Loch Connell on the 28th a nicely spread congregation in an adjacent field prompted me to make count that resulted in a tally of 269 birds.

Tree Pipits fall into that category of birds known as ‘little brown jobs’ (LBJ’s, for short). This species is one of a great many fitting that description. Even experienced birders can have trouble separating the Tree from the very similar-looking Meadow Pipit. On my patch the latter named is fairly common and widespread; the former, however, appears to be a scarce (maybe, even rare) passage visitor in the autumn … or, just maybe, it is commoner than I suppose and I use the term LBJ as a convenient get out to avoid admitting my ignorance or waning competence as I get older. Either way, I logged the species in question on just a single occasion this month. Two birds passed over my head on the 3rd, calling as they went. Twite, also, are popularly recorded as LBJ’s. Luckily I was able to avoid dismissing a flock as such, on the 15th, when close views revealed to me the identity of some 60 birds in the Wig fields. Hearing their distinctive calls added further confirmation of their identity. There was a good passage of Wheatears this September, that is if records on six days within the period from the 3rd to the 23rd, inclusive, warrants the citation . On the 15th I logged a loose party of 13 birds in a field beside the Wig trackway; included within this total were at least three birds of the Greenland race. I was thankful to record several White Wagtails this month: two on the 11th, three on the 13th and one on the 15th. Single Willow Warblers were observed on the 7th, 9th, 17th and 18th, with three of these dates pertaining to birds in my garden. Finally, I end this month’s round-up with another ‘goody’- Wryneck. One brownish bird was at the bottom of Fisher Lane, on the 9th. Amazingly, a second, greyish bird, was in almost the same location on the 23rd, where it foraged beside the beach and the Corsewall Burn outlet.

Sketch of Greenland Wheatear at the Wig on the 15th September

This article and the accompanying images were provided courtesy of the author, S. Grover

A Rich Diversity Wins The Day. Bird Report for August 2026

I associate the month of August with the dispersal of birds away from their natal areas. With that in mind there were eight Canada Geese at Loch Connell on the 5th increasing to 53 on the 16th, when amongst their ranks was  an oddity in the form of a Canada X Barnacle Goose hybrid. At the same site the pair of Greylags and their single fledged offspring  were joined by a roaming party of 41 other feral birds, also on the 16th.  

At Loch Ryan I logged 16 Mute Swans on the 1st, rising to 30 birds on the 30th. A pair with nine cygnets (which I presumed were the birds from Agnew Park, on the Stranraer waterfront) had paddled their way as far up the sea-loch as Leffnoll, on the 3rd. The pair at Loch Connell, along with their two cygnets, stayed put throughout the month. My only record of Shelduck was of three at the Wig on the 6th.

Field sketch of Mute Swan cygnet at Loch Connell, 2nd of August

I spent a memorable couple of hours at Loch Connell on the 30th of the month where, amongst others, was a fine array of waterfowl. There was a drake and duck Gadwall, 98 Mallard, three Shoveler, 23 Teal, plus a female with six ducklings (the first successful breeding of this species here in a long time), and six male Wigeon in their drab eclipse plumage.

On Loch Ryan, I noted but a single Common Scoter on the 26th and the 30th, which was less than I had expected. Eider were better represented, with a peak count of 209 on the 11th. A singleton Tufted Duck was at Loch Connell on the 12th, whilst 140 Red-breasted Merganser on the sea-loch was a most welcome entry in my logbook on the 29th.

Not unexpectedly, divers were absent from this month’s dataset. The two pairs of Great Crested Grebes at Loch Connell were present throughout the month. The appearance of the three youngsters of one of the pairs changed with each visit I made to the site, getting that little bit bigger with a corresponding alteration in plumage as their down was replaced by more resilient feathers. Come the end of the month they were close to juvenile-looking (as shown in the illustrations of many a field guide) but still retained a few downy plumes here and there, making them somewhat comical in appearance at times. The second breeding pair were still incubating at the month’s end but I suspect that for all their protracted effort and diligence the prospects of them raising a brood this year are probably slim. On the 10th, I noticed that an additional and ‘proper-looking’ juvenile had joined those already there: it, too, remained thereafter. Also at this freshwater site were several Little Grebe, with a peak count of nine adults on the 30th. It was on the 23rd however that Dabchick became a highlight of my visit when I noticed a pair of proud-looking parents tending a brood of four chicks. I saw my first Red-necked Grebe of the autumn period at Wig Bay on the 6th. It was a lone adult, handsome in its summer-dress. What I especially liked was that the observation provided me with the opportunity to try out a russet coloured crayon that I had recently added to my field box of art equipment. (Mental note: for the bird’s neck colour the addition of a tad of scarlet and a smidgeon of vermillion is required, with a splash of alizarin crimson in the shadow areas).

I recorded a fair selection of waders this month. Black-tailed Godwit are never the commonest of species on my local patch but what they lack in abundance they make up for in sheer elegance and beauty. Loch Connell held a singleton on the 2nd and ended the month with an impressive party of 30 birds (on the 30th) which flew in from over the intervening hilltop to the west (and Loch Ryan), alighting on the margins of one side of the pool before quickly removing themselves to the other side. They were all gorgeous adults sporting stunning brick-red colouration on the underside of their bodies from belly upwards. This feature, in combination with the striking black and white of the upper surface of their wings, their white vents and rumps tipped with a solid black tail, and trailing legs, created ever changing patterns of delight as they speedily winged across the loch. Oh, to be an artist capable of capturing such splendour: I dream on!

Equally pleasing to my eyes was the flock of 51 Curlew that loafed and foraged amongst the grass and rushy tussocks of the Pool Field on the 11th. Whereas the flight of the preceding species made for bold contrasting patterns that would confuse any would be predator, Curlew rely on more subtle tones of plumage to help camouflage them on the ground. To those readers who also have an aeronautical interest, then my analogy of godwits being the Red Arrows and curlews the ‘stealth planes’ equivalents might be better understood than by those that don’t.

Dunlin are fascinating small birds of the shoreline. Usually when I see one I home in on the length of its bill because, depending upon from what part of the world the bird originates the food supply and and the environment of that region is likely to influence its length. You are what you eat, or so they say. In realty, the situation is not as simple as might first appear for any prospective viewer contemplating such a task; there are other things to consider in attempt to distinguish between the ten races of this species that have so far been identified. Birds from the far north generally have longer bills than those from, say, Britain. Some birds from Greenland are known to have fairly short and less obviously curved beaks (plumage can also be paler than that of our birds, more silvery-grey like that of juvenile Sanderling). Then of course there are sexual differences, with females generally having longer bills than males, as often may be detected when studying groups of Curlew, for example. With a guesstimated worldwide population of 5.5 million Dunlin, and the great variably amongst races and individual birds, it is perhaps futile in trying to assign a race to those birds that I see on the beaches of the Wig. But where is the fun and education in not trying? And with such a small sample to contend with - a maximum flock size this month of just six birds on the 16th and 18th - a few moments spent looking just a little longer and harder at each subject cannot surely be without reward or merit.

It came as a surprise to me when checking over my records for the month that I had logged only one observation of Golden Plover: a singleton, still in handsome breeding plumage, at the Scar on the 7th. Perhaps I had forgotten to enter other sightings - a sign, I am told, of advancing age! Anyway, it happens, especially when there are many other temptations at hand to divert ones attention. I saw a Greenshank at Loch Connell on the 10th and perhaps the same bird there again on the 12th. A singleton was at the Scar on the 21st. The aforementioned site also held a princely three Grey Plover on the 11th - my first of the autumn. Here too was a party of 12 Knot on the 7th and four on the 30th.

Lapwings above Loch Connell on 30th August

Although I may have not logged many Lapwing (a not unusual occurrence) there was a noticeable passage of birds from the beginning to the end of the month. All of the records were from Loch Connell, a traditional stop-off location for the species. The peak count of birds was 46 on the 30th. As was to be expected the numbers of Oystercatcher about Wig Bay increased as the passage of waders gained momentum. 104 birds on the 21st was a reasonable enough count considering the changeable weather that marked the month. That same weather undoubtedly accounts for the the presence of 23 Redshank (a high number for this locality) at the Scar on the 21st and another party of birds there on the 29th.

Despite the fact that Ringed Plover are one of the commoner species of wader to be found on the shoreline of Wig Bay, their bold black, white and sandy-brown plumage (which make them so obvious looking in illustration on the pages of a field guide) is the very reason that this disruptive pattern effectively hides them amongst the pebbles and sand of the shore. I sometimes think that I have made a reasonably accurate count of the birds, only to discover my error when others seemingly emerge from what I had previously taken to be stones - a sudden twitch here, an impulsive preen, or a scamper across the beach all betray their presence to me. A tally of 80 birds on the 7th left me wondering how many others I had missed. Just two observations of Ruff were entered into my logbook this month. Both were of singletons: a bird at Loch Connell on the 2nd and another at the Scar on the 5th. The latter site held three adult Sanderling on the 4th, one on the 7th and two on the 21st. All of my records of Snipe were from Loch Connell, with four on the 2nd, five on the 16th and four on the 30th. Sightings of Turnstone, on the other hand, were restricted to the seashore: a high of nine birds was registered at the Scar on the 21st.

Birds that were either absent previously, or few in number, can quite literally increase overnight, particularly after a storm. For some species however their infiltration can be more subtle until, by chance, you think to yourself ‘crikey … where did they all come from.’ Well, that was the sense I got when my eyes were confronted by a flock of 84 Common Gull in one of the Wig fields, on the 11th. In the Herring Gull nest on the chimney stack of a property in the village of Kirkcolm, I saw two chicks on the 1st that were close to fledging. A day or so later, one bird whilst exercising its wings, fell off the roof and - not yet strong enough for sustained flight - remained on the ground, joining its brother or sister which had suffered a similar mishap a few weeks before. Both ‘grounded’ birds continued to be fed and defended from passers-by in the street. This I know only too well because I happened to be one of the folk who so rudely used the pavement to the disgust of the parent birds! Fortunately, Herring Gull are more about false bravado rather than actual intent to harm, with fake dive bombing attacks at trespassers, veering off before any physical impact can occur. Lesser Black-backed Gulls become more frequent visitors to my local patch during the month of August. On the 25th I was delighted to watch first, eight birds, then 16 fly past the Scar, heading towards Stranraer.

During the morning of the 5th a small group of eight Arctic Tern settled on the Scar. When they came in their obvious paleness against the grey of the sky and the sea drew my attention but as soon as they settled and hunkered down they were all but lost from sight. Had I not seen them alight then I probably would never have known that they were there. Sandwich Tern were seen in varying numbers most days. I confess, I was expecting to larger flocks than I did but that is the way the cookie crumbles, I guess. Upon reflection, a high of 41 at the Scar on the 11th was not so bad a tally.

So far this year I have seen very few Black Guillemot in Wig Bay, or indeed elsewhere on the parts of Loch Ryan that I can readily view from my home viewing station. There are multiple reasons why this may be so. It would thus be premature of me to cast a decision on the matter but my gut instinct is one of concern. With only a single record of just one bird seen on the 10th, I can only hope that my initial suspicions will be proved wrong as the year progresses. I had, unusually, more sightings of Razorbill than I did of the preceding species, with singletons on the 6th and 13th and two on the 23rd. Gannet were adequately represented over Loch Ryan, with a high of 20 birds logged on the 5th. There were 30 Cormorant (five of which were juveniles, instantly recognisable by their contrasting white bellies) at the Scar on the 10th, although my peak count of them on the sea-loch was 46 on the 16th. Shag numbered 81 on the dilapidated pier at Cairnryan on the 21st. Two juvenile Little Egret were regularly seen at the Wig throughout the month, ranging widely and catching the attention of many none bird orientated locals in the process.

A couple of the month’s highlights were raptors (birds of prey). A female Marsh Harrier at Loch Connell on the 30th had the lapwings in a state of constant panic; the Teal were also on the alert and wary, whilst the grebes submerged in advance of the approaching hawk; in contrast the large plump Mallards seemed to show no signs of concern, presumably thinking themselves too large to be on the harrier’s menu. I had to smile when this thought crossed my mind because many years ago I recall seeing a much smaller aerial predator - a female Sparrowhawk - attack and dispatch a drake Mallard: carrying off its prize was, however, a very different proposition entirely, I recall, requiring the utmost determination from the raptor. Ungainly it certain was, with the bird moving along in leaps and bounds under the weight of its prey. Eventually it conceded, overcome by the struggle, so ate its meal out in the open space of a field. But enough anecdotes and back to this month’s report. Four separate observations of Osprey combine to make up the second highlight. On the 11th a bird came from the direction of Loch Connell and drifted low over the burn outlet at the bottom of Fisher Lane. At the time my camera, which I often carry with me in the hope of capturing images of events such as this, was fitted with a long-Tom (a lens with a large focal length eminently suitable for capturing birds at a distance). Unfortunately, the bird passing over my head was so close that only a small part of it appeared in the frame and focusing, because of the short distance involved, was impossible. The next bird up was at Loch Connell, on the 16th: an all too brief sighting, glimpsed as it headed back towards the sea-loch over the intervening hill. The third bird I saw sat out on that spit of land known as the Scar during the early morning of the 25th. There it stayed for a considerable length of time eating the fish it had caught. It looked great through the high magnification of my fieldscope but, alas, it appeared as no more than a dot through the lens on my camera. A few days later, on the 29th, another Osprey sat on the Scar. It was even further away from me than the previous bird because this time I was enjoying views (again, through my ‘scope) from the comfort of home.

Field sketches of a female Marsh Harrier at Loch Connell on the 30th of August

In order for people to relate to a concept, such as the autumn passage of birds, logic dictates that there has to be a beginning, a middle and an end part. There also has to be a place, for reference purposes where to apply the arbitrary notions we have just devised can be applied. Enter the local patch where, through the act of regular monitoring, we can employ this aspect of our bold scheme to understanding nature. I use House Martin as this month’s example of how the princle works in practice. Anyway, readers, I’m sure you will get the gist of my endeavour. Thus, on the 2nd, I logged 28 birds, followed by 46 on the 5th, 86 on the 21st, 120 on the 23rd, which suddenly increased to 240 the next day (24th), and finally 253 on the 28th. An obvious build-up, there is no doubt, and which may continue into next month, to be followed by a decline as the passage period draws to a close. Numbers of Sand Martin at Loch Connell peaked at 28 on the 12th, while Swallows over the village of Kirkcolm rose to 80 birds on the 16th. A count of six Swifts on the 4th was an excellent record, with the last observation of the month being of two birds on the 7th.

On the 11th, I was both surprised and delighted to find a Cetti’s Warbler in a tangle of Himalayan Balsm that grows next to the seashore. Single Chiffchaffs were in my garden on the 5th, 14th, 18th and 21st, where also there were singleton Whitethroats on the 2nd, 5th and 7th and four Willow Warblers on the 6th. The latter species was also recorded from within the grounds of the Corsewall Estate, including an especially lovely juvenile (more accurately, a first-winter bird) with bright green uppers and yellow underparts, which was observed on the 25th.

To round up this month’s offering I give brief details of a few other birds. Black Redstart is of course notable in any part of. They are a distinct rarity on my local patch so I was more than pleased to having stumbled upon one flitting about the beach and car park at the Wig during the early morning of the 21st. At this time of year Carrion Crows often gather in loose-knit flocks along the beach; I saw a party of 20, on the 5th, which included three of the local hybrid ‘Hoody’ look-a-likes. August is also the time when House Sparrows flock, their numbers boosted greatly by juveniles of the year. In my garden I registered over 100 birds on the 26th and 28th. Often, when I am in the house, I hear their garrulous chatter coming from the densely leaved shrubs outside; sometimes that chatter stops abruptly and all goes deadly silent until the bushes explode into life as birds disperse in all directions at the presence of an incoming Sparrowhawk.

Sparrowhawk on the lookout for its next meal

The jewel-like Kingfisher that I saw at Loch Connell on the 23rd should not have come as the surprise that it was to me, given the season. I was just startled because perched directly next to the bird was a giant in the reptilian-like form of a Cormorant. The larger bird I had noticed first; it was a while later that curiosity drew my gaze to the tiny dazzling blob immediately to the left of the Cormorants huge paddle-like feet: with a quick re-adjustment of focus to my ’scope the bird, and its outrageous colouration was revealed in all its glory.

Like many other birds Linnet also form roving flocks, their numbers often swelled at this time by accompanying Chaffinch and Goldfinch, amongst others. It is therefore not always an easy task to separate and count the individual species that comprise a flock, especially when they appear as a swirling mass. Patience and perseverance is obviously the way forward in such circumstances but, often as not, entries in my notebooks just reads ‘finches’ followed by the estimated number of birds involved. I did however succeed in making a count of one flock on the 25th which solely comprised 113 Linnet. Lastly, I conclude with Wheatear, with my first sighting of the autumn period being a lone bird at the Wig on the 21st and the second, a singleton at Loch Connell on the 30th.

Content provided courtesy of the author, S. Grover

Forever A Surprise. Bird Report for July 2026

There are birds that are resident year round and those that are primarily visitors, which either come to our shores to breed or overwinter, attracted here by the prevailing mild conditions and habitats that satisfy their requirements. There are also birds that just pass through on route to destinations elsewhere - the so-called passage migrants. Then there are those birds whose presence here might be deemed accidental, acts of vagrancy. For the most part it is the common birds - those we encounter daily, or at least on a regular basis - that determine our impression of the richness of birdlife wherever we happen to be. In that respect, I consider myself well and truly blessed by the staggering variety of species (not only birds) that can be found on my doorstep, so to speak.

At Loch Connell, on the 12th, I observed a pair of Greylag with a single downy gosling. Come the 27th of the month that youngster was almost fully fledged. At the same site two pairs of Mute Swan were present up to at least the 12th, after which the pair that had successfully nested remained, along with their two offspring. On the sea-loch, just over the hill to the east, a pair of swans with eight large cygnets were at the Wig on the 24th, presumably having swum up from Soleburn earlier that day. 22 adults were at Leffnoll on the 29th. Shelduck were not unexpectedly few this month, with two adults at the Scar on the 1st, a pair with two juveniles there on the 4th (possibly the family unit that was at Loch Connell the previous month), and lastly, a male and a female at the freshwater site of ‘Connell on the 12th.

I’m not quite sure I was anticipating to log an impressive 102 Mallard at Loch Connell when I set out on foot for the site in the early morning of the 12th but that is the tally I entered into my notebook, along with an additional female and her three fully fledged young. This influx was probably the result of birds coming to use the site as a comparatively safe haven whilst undergoing moult into their eclipse plumage - a process which renders the birds flightless for the time it takes them to regrow their flight feathers. The few Teal present here were presumably doing the same: I recorded a maximum of nine birds, on the 22nd; I did however observe a drake and a duck with three juveniles, on the 12th. Away from ‘Connell my highest count of this species was a party of 24 birds seen resting at the Scar, Wig Bay, on the 6th. They were gone by the next day. Back at Loch Connell the same drake Wigeon reported on last month continued to be present throughout July.

Loch Ryan has long been known as an important site for moulting Eider, of which bachelor’s predominate. Many of the birds that use the site congregate at the Scar, where I am able to study their transition from striking-looking pied waterfowl to almost wholly black creatures as their moult into eclipse plumage develops. It is a fascinating progression to behold that forever leaves me in a state of awe and wonderment. 240 birds was my highest tally of the species, on the 6th, but on the 22nd I logged a flock of 209 ‘black’ males amassed on the spit. On the 24th I observed five juveniles at the Wig. Unusual at the Scar were four Tufted Duck, on the 4th. A male of this species, in eclipse plumage, was at Loch Connell between the 12th and 27th. Numbers of Red-breasted Merganser on the sea-loch ranged widely, with my peak count being 65 on the 6th.

Perhaps not surprisingly, I saw no species of diver this month. Five great Crested Grebe were at the Wig on the 8th; they were more obvious on Loch Connell, however, where two pairs had nests. Early on in the month one of the pairs was still in the process of nest building, before settling to incubate. The other pair had at least one chick, on the 27th, then three balls of fluff were observed on the 31st, with two riding, snug, on the back of one of the parents and the third doing the same on the other parent. The same site held two pairs of Dabchick (Little Grebe) on the 19th, with a juvenile noted on the 31st.

Sketchbook page showing Great Crested Grebe at Loch Connell

Fifteen species of wader were recorded this month: none were ‘rarities’, there were no ‘big numbers’, and at least one ’regular’ (at least, in the past!) never showed at all. Four splendid looking Black-tailed Godwit, richly coloured and strikingly marked in their breeding attire, were at the Wig on the the 3rd, followed by one at the Scar on the 6th, then four on the 29th and a delightful treat of 18 there on the evening of the 31st. Numbers of Curlew remained fairly low but for 78 that gathered in the fields beside the Wig on the 24th. My highest count of Dunlin came from the Scar on the 21st, when nine birds in handsome breeding plumage scurried between the stranded wrack on the shore, busily pecking up morsels of food as they went. A lone Golden Plover, also at the Scar, was something of a bonus on the 24th. A few days later, on the 27th, the same shingle spit hosted a Greenshank - perhaps the same bird that I saw earlier in the day at Loch Connell. A party of 20 Knot briefly alighted at the far end of the Scar on the 5th, with seven birds there the following day (the 6th). Eight Lapwing bunched together on the far shore of Loch Connell on the 27th. Presumably, I saw the same birds there again on the 31st. Oystercatcher numbered 57 at the Scar on the 22nd. Redshank were sparse about the Wig, with a high of just two birds observed between the 5th and the 15th - a poor showing but not totally unexpected. Ringed Plover were more abundant than the preceding species but still relatively few in number, with a peak of just 22 at the Scar on the 22nd. Also at this spit of land I recorded two Ruff on the 14th and the 18th. Sanderling, never the commonest of waders to be seen on passage through my local patch, are always a delight to encounter. At this time of year it is adults, mostly still in their summer plumage, that race along the shore at the frontier between land and sea. I saw six birds on both the 21st and the 28th. On the 24th I saw two, both very striking in their appearance and as different in this respect as chalk cheese, appealing to my artistic sensibility. One of them was a gorgeous red colour, the other a contrasting mix of grey, white and black. Foraging side by side along the beach they provided ever changing patterns of colour, shape, and form, which engaged my attention and discerning eyes for a considerable length of time and, alas,

kept me from reaching for my sketchbook in order to capture the moment. I had just one sighting of Snipe: a singleton at Loch Connell on the 27th. If I had been more active this month then I am certain I would have recorded more than just the three Turnstone at the Scar that I registered in my notebook on the 24th, especially so given that I logged the usually much scarcer Whimbrel on four occasions across the month: singletons at the Wig on the 1st, 21st and 24th, and one at Loch Connell on the 31st.

Sketchbook page showing Black-tailed Godwits, Gannets, Curlew and Black-headed Gull

On the 6th, whilst tea was simmering on the stove in my kitchen, I took a few minutes out to scan Loch Ryan from my viewing window, aided by the use of my ‘scope. When the Scar came into view I noticed a dark phase Arctic Skua winging its way down the loch. It was a gratifying reward that would otherwise have been missed. Black-headed and Common Gulls, often accompanied by a few of the crop of the year’s juveniles, tend to find their way back to the sea-loch during the month of July. Of the first mentioned species, I counted 119 in Wig Bay on the 21st, which included a mere 19 youngsters. Alas, the situation for the second named species was far worse, with a peak count of six adults and a single juvenile, on the 11th. Herring Gulls always seem to give me the impression of being the commonest gulls on my local patch. I suspect their daily occurrence  coupled with their large size - which generally makes them easier to see and identify at distance, compared with their smaller compatriots on Loch Ryan -  accounts for this; but whether it is real or not, I find difficult to resolve. I thought the 257 that I counted at the Scar on the 4th was reasonable enough for this location and time of year. Although the species is generally colony-nesting, if only loosely so, they also take advantage of that which circumstance can provide. A pair nesting on a chimney-stack of a property in the village held my interest throughout the month. On the 14th I noticed three chicks which, incidentally, didn’t seem to be bothered by the Jackdaws that often visited to investigate the stack in search of food. Eight Kittiwake flying past the Scar on the 15th were unexpected visitors. Lesser Black-backed Gull are typically scarce about my neighbourhood, so an adult on the 4th, followed by two on the 7th and another on the 18th were welcome entries to the logbook. Likewise was an immature Mediterranean Gull that I spied in one of the Wig fields at 1840hrs on the 21st.

There was a steady passage of Arctic Tern at Loch Ryan between the 5th and the 24th. As was expected the number of bird involved were few; their was a peak of 18 birds at the Scar on the 19th, whilst 11 on the 17th and 15 on the 20th and 21st were also notable. Common Tern were scarcer than the preceding species, with a high of 12 on the 23rd. Entries of Sandwich Tern in the logbook were almost daily, reaching a high of 24 birds on the 6th. The first juveniles of the year were noted on the 11th.

The calm that often occurs in the early morning at this point in the year is usually the best time to scan the sea-loch for passing Manx Shearwater. They are however neither frequent visitors nor predictable in their occurrence, which makes seeing even one a satisfying experience. I saw four birds leisurely making their way down the loch on the 6th, then a party of six, shortly followed by another 10, on the 9th. All of them were suitably registered in the logbook at a time well before 0700hrs. Gannet happily forage over Loch Ryan at almost any time during daylight hours, whether that be shortly after sunrise or approaching twilight. I saw one bird, from my home’s viewing station, fishing the loch shortly after 2200hrs: the white of its plumage stood out, stark against the darkening tones of the evening. My peak count of the species was 26 birds on the 21st. Several immatures were noted during the month, including a party of three, on the 22nd, that were all in their third calendar year. What surprised me was that they were near identical in appearance. Even within birds of the same age group there is usually some variation in plumage (sometimes obvious, sometimes more subtle but still apparent) that separates them and allows individuals to be identified … but not these birds!

Numbers of Cormorants at the Scar typically increase during July when local, and none local, adults and immatures are boosted by the year’s dispersing juveniles. This year appears not to have been especially great in that respect. The highest count of birds I recorded was 28, on the 19th: only four white bellied juveniles were amongst them. The Shag population at Loch Ryan generally builds up in strength a little later than the preceding species, so the high of six birds (including one juvenile) that were settled on the Scar on the 6th was not of undue concern to me, even if a tad on the low side.

Sand Martin numbers over Loch Connell increased to a rather unimpressive 16, on the 5th, but it did suggest either a dispersal of locally breeding birds or an indication that the autumn passage was underway. A similar conclusion could be applied to the 30 House Martins that I observed over Kirkcolm village on the same day. Swallow numbers peaked at 20 birds on the 20th. It was encouraging to both hear and see eight ‘screaming’ Swifts over the village on the 16th, making this my highest tally yet recorded within the rural setting I call home.

The continual and plaintive mewing of a Buzzard was a sound that I eventually could not ignore as I followed a woodland path on the morning of the 8th. I looked upwards through an opening in the canopy and saw three birds circling high in the sky. I presumed they were a family unit based on the cries of one of the birds. Later in the month, on the 30th, I saw a juvenile in the same area…silent, and perched in a tree. 

A rufous phase Cuckoo was an especial delight on the 21st. When caught in the bright light of a full sun its colour seemed to intensify, making it further stand out from the scenery through which it passed. Brown birds are not as common as the more usual grey type, but rufous ones are considerably rarer and, apparently, restricted to the female sex only. Anyway, it was a very nice bird which had me on high alert for another as I strolled homeward bound.

Two juvenile Little Egrets (recognisable by their greenish, not black legs) were at the Scar on the 9th and on the shore by the Wig car park on the 21st. Linnets began to form ever bigger flocks, the largest of which was some 60 birds at the Wig fields on the 25th. A bedraggled Meadow Pipit looked decidedly un-pipit-like on the 21st, having bathed and submerged itself in a puddle of rainwater on the track leading to the wartime observation hut at the Scar. A juvenile Rock Pipit was at the outlet to the Corsewall Burn on the 24th, thus making a welcome return to the logbook.

Meadow Pipit bathing

Moorhen rarely receive a mention in this blog; I couldn’t resist telling you, readers, about the family I saw at Loch Connell on the 27th. It appeared that the parent birds were accompanying their three offspring rather than the offspring accompanying their parents. The chicks - diminutive, black balls of fluff - darted in and out of view amongst the marginal vegetation. First they would scamper one way, then another, making the most of their seemingly over-sized legs and feet to effortlessly transport them at speed through the tangled waterside jungle. So much for me thinking those legs of theirs would make them ungainly! Yet despite the disproportional appearance of the chicks they were nevertheless sweet-looking, cute, endearing and engaging.

Several Skylark were still to be heard singing above the fields beside the Wig track: eight birds did so on the 21st, while others were seen to collect food - no doubt to be fed to hungry youngsters nearby. Seen on the 23rd of the month a flock of 106 Starling, which included many juveniles, was a clear indication of the autumn build up. A Tawny Owl heard hooting during the late evening of the 15th came as a surprise to me. This characteristic call is more typically heard from late-October onwards, at least on my local patch it is. Finally, to wrap up this month’s offering I thought I should mention the large, second batch of juvenile Jackdaw and Rook that I have seen about the village of Kirkcolm this month. Most readers will know that Rooks, in particular, are generally early nesters: March is the favoured time on my patch. Jackdaw often nest in close association with them. The local birds of both species acted in accordance with this tradition, producing many juveniles. However, either a second brood, or later attempts by birds that had failed earlier, have produced another wave of recently fledged offspring, which I first noticed on the 5th. Whether such practice is a regular occurrence elsewhere I do not know but it was sufficient to peak my interest.

An adult and juvenile Rook 

This article and the accompanying images were provided courtesy of the author, S. Grover