Wanstead Wheatear Trophy 2025

I was away last week for work but I did not miss a great deal. A Lesser Spotted Woodpecker was found in the Park, good to see that these are still clinging on, and a drake Mandarin Duck has been hanging around. Somebody might have seen a Swallow I think, oh and Bob's microphone has been going great guns overnight with passage waders, but generally migrants have been desperately thin on the ground. I was worried that whilst in Budapest the flood gates would open and the patch would be drenched in migrants. Nope, it has been strangely quiet with barely any movement. No doubt the high pressure has seen everything soar straight over?

Louis's triumpant Wheatear on March 22nd has so far been the only Wheatear. Thank God for all the training, had he not been so alert we might still not have seen one. And we are not sure what a blank March might mean for the Wanstead Wheatear Trophy, perhaps it would see it simply retained by whoever had won it last year, with the finder's cup presumably changing hands regardless as this is not date dependent. Let's hope it never comes to that, what a damp squib that would be!

After a short period all dipping Lesser Spot in the Park we all gathered at VizMig on Saturday morning. Louis was dressed up as expected, he set the standard a number of years ago and this has become something of a tradition. What we were not expecting was for Tony to whip off his coat to also reveal a dress shirt, tuxedo and a bow tie. Most excellent. Speeches were made, fizz was drunk, and the charity total from the entrance fee of nearly £200 was revealed taking us to something like £1000 over the years. This year we are giving it to the South Essex Wildlife Hospital in Orsett, a fine choice from Mary.

Silver coronavirus clouds and the rite of spring

As you know I cannot now go to the office to work. This is a shame, there are social elements to a job that go along with the grind and that make it tolerable - without the people there would be no point. Me and all my colleagues are now working from home for the forseeable future, and I can imagine that this will drive a number of them slightly crazy. In time it may well drive me mad as well, but for now it is spring time and I am fortunate to have a hobby which is very fulfilling. No more so than today.

Today was a big day. My first shot at the title, now in its third year. My first date in the Wanstead Wheatear Sweepstake 2020. On what day would the first one be found? A quick recap on the rules - the names of ten local birders were drawn out of a hat (well, a bowl actually) by Tony, and we then got to choose two dates in the order our names came out. Once a date is chosen nobody else can choose it. I came third and plumped for the 16th and 19th of March, nice median arrival dates, by no means my earliest but also a long way from the latest. 

I had been waiting for this moment and marshaled the troops. At first light Tony would start at the Alex and comb that area. Rob and Simon would start in the Old Sewage Works, and from there progress to the Plain in the Park. James would check School Scrub, with Richard carefully checking the Western Flats, then both moving to the Fairground. Meanwhile Bob, Tim and I would cover the central portion of the Flats (the most likely place frankly), with Nick starting at Angel and working his way up. Sean, who has a bike, would take the whole southern side of the Flats along Capel Road. We would then all meet at the Vizmig point at 11am for the prize-giving ceremony where I would be crowned victor ludorum, provided this was granted Government approval as there would be more than five of us. It's all about confidence.

So bright and early I found myself on out on the Flats in the central portion as discussed. It was a lovely morning, blue skies and a gentle breeze. Oddly no sign of Tim or Bob, they were probably just a little behind, so I set off solo on my search. First of all a circuit of the Brooms where I met Louis and Gosia, nobly helping my cause even though they were not in the sweepstake. Nothing doing in this area, so I went off to check first the Barrage Hitches and then the Ditch of Despair, both of which were also Wheatearless. I was now at the Alex where mysteriously I could not find Tony. He must have been there somewhere, really trying his hardest to winkle one out of some deep scrub or something. Or perhaps he had swum over to the islands to check those? I did a loop of the Pub Scrub where I met a lady with bins who I have never seen before - good of her to get involved. 

Meanwhile some fairly negative news from other areas of the patch. On the western side James, who lives about a third of a mile from the Flats, had briefly looked out of his top window and not been able to see any Wheatears, and was now patiently waiting (at home) for Richard to arrive so that they could coordinate their areas. On the southern sector Sean was just finishing a hasty breakfast and would only be about another 45 minutes, excellent to see him so committed. Simon was also on his way but did need to try and find some toilet paper first so had still not started looking. Also bad news from Rob who needed to reorganise his entire life before coming out birding. And finally Nick was still asleep in Forest Gate. 

In other words a real team effort. Back in the central brooms there was still no sign of Tim and Bob.... but I did briefly see Marco (not in the sweepstake) cycling off east. Perhaps Sean had drafted him in whilst he had another round of toast. Fine. I get it, I was on my own. I had no idea people took the competition so seriously! That being the case, and with only a few minutes left before I had to leave the patch, I pulled out all the stops and stormed round the central path one final time. A Stonechat in the Brooms ! A Skylark singing from a mound! Another Stonechat flitting around the base of some wispy stuff! And then, finally, tantalisingly, a flash of white over my head towards the Model Airfield. A bouncy flight, was it a Woodpecker? Heading directly away it was impossible to see. And then it landed. And turned sideways on. Yessssss!!! A male Wheatear! Fresh in and carrying a small trophy under one wing!

I sent out a message to the team signalling the end of the 2020 competition and thanking them for their unwavering dedication to the cause. Soon Bob turned up, and a short while later Tim and Nick, eager to get in on the action now that the competitive element was over. Tony is contacting COBRA to see if the presentation can go ahead, meanwhile I am of course over the moon that against all the odds I have managed to pull it off. It has not escaped my notice that in peacetime I would have been forced to leave the patch nearly an hour before I found the bird in order to get to work, and that Nick would have snaffled it up like he usually does. Every cloud....

Of Whinchats and Wheatears

How good are Whinchats? I mean, just how wonderful are spring Whinchats? I remember the first time I saw one on Wanstead Flats, and my initial thought was that it was some kind of exotic escape and it took a few minutes of hard grilling before I could place it, during which time it disappeared never to be seen again. Unfortunately I don’t see spring Whinchats very often, here on the patch they’re far more of an autumn bird. When I do though it provokes thoughts of heresy.

I am fairly well known for being a lover of Wheatears. All Wheatears, as of course there are quite a few species and they are all very lovely. But the one I see most frequently is Northern Wheatear, and generally we get a good passage of these every spring. You can also generally get far closer to and thus get far better views of Wheatears than you can of Whinchats, which combined with their overall numbers during spring passage inevitably leads to the conclusion that Wheatears are just better. They are also first of course, I have never seen a Whinchat before I have seen a Wheatear, and so they are the bird that signals the end of the winter colour drought. And there is doubt that they are a striking bird – that soft peachy breast getting bolder and deeper towards the head, the grey back and white rump, and best of all the wide dark black bandit mask with white borders. When you add to this their upright stance and general panache, it’s hard to argue that there could be a better bird out there. Here are a couple of photos of spring birds from Wanstead Flats. If you need a minute, that’s fine.

But yet my thoughts keep turning to Whinchat. You see I recently had an opportunity to study and photograph at what is, for me at least, unusually short range. I was in Greece, at a place called Lake Kerkini (full trip-report to follow, naturellement), and Whinchats were far commoner than Wheatears. And they were absolutely stunning, almost beyond comprehension. I have never seen Whinchat so well anywhere, and this was achieved by virtue of taking my poor Nissan Micra somewhat offroad and using it as a mobile hide. I have no idea how a bright white car works as camouflage, however the birds seemed entirely comfortable with this large chunk of metal bouncing up and down next to the irrigation ditch where they were spending their time, whereas if I got out of the car to get something from the boot they disappeared quick as a flash. Interestingly the birds were very much tied to reeds. I had driven down the track to photograph Great Reed Warblers, but my attention was soon diverted when I realized that were as many if not more Whinchats also using the area to feed, and they had absolutely no problem perching on the swaying reed stems. In fact I’m not sure I saw them perch anywhere else – they would descend to feed on insects on the track, and then pop back up to the reeds to survey the area and cough up any nasty bits. Here are a few of the photos I took, after which there will be a difficult and heretical question.

Are Whinchats in fact better-looking than Wheatears? If Whinchats were as common and as approachable as Wheatears, could even diehard aficionados like me be converted? Might the real spring prize be the Whinchat? There were two on Wanstead Flats last week as it happened, a pair travelling together, and the male was an absolute belter. I didn’t have my camera with me that day but this didn’t matter as sans Nissan I couldn’t have got anywhere near them, so instead I enjoyed excellent views through binoculars. They’re not that different really, the distribution of colours and plumage is remarkably similar. Black mask? Check. Orange chest? Check. White stripes on head? Check. The black mask is wider though, as is the extent of the white border both above and below, which also joins more obviously below the bill. The orange is deeper throughout as well, and the mantle rather than being grey is instead highly patterned. As a package it is superb, very compelling indeed. Maybe I am currently confused as for the first time I have been properly able to make this detailed comparison? Previously I simply wasn’t aware how stunning they were. I mean I knew they were good but they were also a bit unattainable, which contrary to what you might think somehow reduced their appeal. Now that I have scored so to speak, I am not sure where this leaves me. I am fortunate to have recently enjoyed both I suppose.

High Hopes

High hopes dashed! Once again a story of unrewarded effort, unrequited dreams. Out before 6am, and four hours on the patch produced one single year tick, an invisible Yellow Wagtail. Hardly very satisfying given the time put in, and the feeling that a change in the weather could have brought me gazillions of new birds for the year. Once again the weather was too nice. Last week is was not nice at all, extremely cold and unfavourable for migration. Today they mostly sailed right over the top of us. I say mostly as there was a scattering of Wheatears across the Flats. As a number of us were stood around moaning, one of them came and landed near us. It hopped around on the ground for a bit and then perched on a log, thus:

Well that's nice. I wonder if it will stay there? Binoculars off, camera strap discarded, the slow shuffle began. So far so good.

Essentially it never moved, even with three of us gradually converging on it. I got extremely close, possibly closer to a Wanstead Wheatear than I have ever been, and thus the morning turned into one that goes into the annals as a success. Eventually the bird moved off of its own accord, and James, Tony and I got up and dusted ourselves off. Which is when we found Bob surveying this silly scene with some amusement, three grown men lying prostrate on the ground worshiping Wheatear. So in summary there were not many birds, but there was one bird. 

Cyprus Weekender

Little did I know when I booked a trip to Cyprus for my daughter and I quite how desperate I would be for a Wheatear fix come April 2017. It had been in the diary for months, but by late April I assumed I would have had quite a few birds on the patch. I have had one. One solitary Wheatear on the 11th March, and I have somehow missed every single other one. There have not been overly many, but still, that's a poor reflection - and I've been working the patch quite hard!

So to Cyprus then, which by the time it came around was sorely needed. The aim was twofold. Show my daughter part of this lovely island (I'm not into the boycotting thing), and point a very large lens at Cyprus Pied Wheatear. This was a great success, and whilst we were only there for a couple of days, I surprised myself with quite how productive I was. The plan was straightforward enough - get up early and spend the best part of the day wandering around Cape Greco and environs, return for breakfast and then do whatever kiddo wanted to do, which was basically swim. Fair enough. We also popped in to Oroklini both to and from the airport.

I've been to Cape Greco on each of my birding trips to Cyprus, it is a wonderful spot and whilst I am sure there are many wonderful spots, if you find a site that you enjoy so much every time, why bother looking for others. On our first morning there we saw no other people for three hours. On our second there were three ladies out for a jog. There were no dog walkers, no motorbikes, no cars, no sirens. Just crystal clear air, a sparkling sea, and birds everywhere. Crested Larks were abundant, Spectacled Warblers nearly so, and Alpine Swifts screamed overhead. And of course there were Cyprus Wheatears.

The first birds we saw were paired up, and no amount of stealth could get us anywhere near them. Being two people probably didn't help, but one bird would always alert the other and as soon as one flew so did the other. Thus the first morning passed relatively fruitlessly, although we had a nice walk and Kate had a nice explore (we took the Shetland radios so that we could keep in touch). After taking almost no photos and instead walking around the headland, we ended up at the picnic site (all sites marked on this map). We didn't go to all the numbered sites, just the ones below.

1. Although the dump seems to have been capped since my last visit, the tracks below it are still great for birds and this is where the friendly Wheatear was.

3. Main area of scrub, lots of Warblers and some unfriendly Wheatears!

4. Cliffs underneath main promontary, with two profitable paths. A lower one at sea-level (red), and another about half way up (orange). There is a link between the two but it's not recommended, instead swap between them at the western end.

7. Picnic area which is clearly signposted. Cyprus Warbler exactly where I was expecting it.

The scrub between areas 3 and 6 was very birdy indeed, with a what I think was a Collared Flycatcher on the first morning, as well as the obligatory Hoopoes and various other maquis-type birds. On our way back from the abortive photo mission we drove down to the dump tracks. Before we even got to the end of the road in we found two Cyprus Wheatears actually in front of the car, one displaying to the other with some kind of wing flaps. By the time we got out they had done a runner, but possibly one of the birds was now down by the sea caves right on the coast, singing from one of the danger signs. This bird seemed to allow a very close approach indeed, but unfortunately the light was bordering on harsh now, plus the hotel breakfast was not far away from closing up. Reluctantly we went back to Nissi, only about ten minutes by car, and had a huge feast at the Adam's Beach resort. Bloated, all we could then do was flop by the pool for the rest of the day.....

The following morning we were up even earlier, the child less than convinced. She gamely got ready but this time stayed in the car with her kindle and the radio. This left me free to pap the Wheatear which thankfully was still exactly where we had left it - singing from the same sign in fact. Now on my last visit I had been armed with a 500mm lens. This time I opted for the 800mm, as after all Wheatears are small birds. I am glad I did (for one thing the other lens has a few issues at the moment as I discovered on more recent trip) as it performed amazingly, including with a 1.1x teleconverter mounted, which took it up to a staggering 1120mm, and that's without my camera's 1.3x crop. Monopod all the way in these circumstances, but many of the images below are with this combination - remember that the light in Cyprus is first rate, none of the rubbish you get here! First up was the need to transform the perches, so I spent a good ten minutes gathering a number of rocks and placing them atop each of the signs that I had seen the bird singing from (I removed them afterwards) before retreating to see what happened. You can probably guess what happened can't you? This:

And then this:

And this:

And then this:

Get the idea?

No? OK. Then this, and this and this and this and this and this and this and this and....

The rest of the day was again spent dallying at the pool, and at 4pm we had to leave to fly home. You could say it is pointless going somewhere for so little time. I might agree, but I also might show you 300 photos of Cyprus Pied Wheatear! We stopped at Oroklini again, and this time managed to find the Spur-winged Plovers in a field opposite the marsh. Loads of Stilts, Garganey, several tonnes of Cattle Egret, and masses of hirundines.

The dating game

Here are some dates.

March 16th
March 23rd
March 20th
March 19th
April 10th
March 11th

The final date is today, and is very nearly an entire month earlier than the date the precedes it. These are not random dates, they are significant dates. Very significant - they mark - of course - the dates when I saw my first patch Wheatear over the last few years. I am not quite sure what happened last year, but statistics never ever lie. Leaving this aberration aside, the 11th March is nearly a whole week earlier than the earliest I've seen Wheatear in Wanstead. So naturally for someone as nerdy as my good self this is extremely exciting news.

I was with Tony - the last few Saturdays it has just been the two of us (he would be lying if he said he didn't look forward to this tryst), the rest of the gang seem to have slacked off somewhat. We had done an unproductive circuit from around half six and seen very little. A second go was merited, so crossing the road back to the brooms we trundled on. A few Skylarks, various Mipits and Song Thrushes. And then it happened. A bird with a very different flight bounced over, moving away rapidly. The ever-sharp TB called it tentatively as a Wheatear, and as it headed into the top of the Coronation Copse it appeared he was right. I thought I detected a white rear end despite the high contrast, and when we noticed a man who later resolved into Rob S waving at us and pointing at the same treetop we knew we were in.

A smart but highly wary male, and on the exceedingly early date of 11th March. This is karma. I spent a lot of yesterday gazing at photographs of Wheatears. Wondering. Hoping. Salivating. And today was the day. Thankfully I got up and got out there, this was the moment I wanted to be present for.  So here it is in all its glory. Friendly it was not, but you can't have everything. Spring has well and truly started. Tony, Twitcher-Bob and I discussed a possible retreat until late August until the Spotted Flycatchers turn up, but I suspect we'll be out again very soon hoping for more. This is just the beginning.

I've won!

It's official, I've won the big one, and I can confidently say that life will never be the same again. Many people say that a big win won't change them, but that's ridiculous, of course it does. In my case I fully expect that my new celebrity status could see me get endorsement deals, TV shows, and it's perhaps even possible that the story will transfer to the silver screen. For I am now the holder of the coveted North Downs and Beyond Wheatear Trophy, awarded to the blogger who manages to post the most photos of Northern Wheatears in any given Spring. To say I am chuffed to bits doesn't even come close, and of course I can start to travel again now. 

Rather than relate it all again, I'm just going to post the transcript from the award ceremony that recently took place on Wanstead Flats - where each and every Wheatear photo that I took came from. No travel involved, this is a very "green" win....So, back to the marquee....

* sound of thunderous applause gradually fading away * (NB this lasted for a full five minutes and was intensely embarrassing actually)


I honestly don't know where to start, to win this trophy is my dream. I'm totally overwhelmed. * blows nose loudly, wipes eyes *. First of all, I suppose I ought to say a little bit about the birds, this trophy is really for them. * more applause *  Wheatears are just, just, so, well, so, so perfect. They're the perfect bird. I mean Shrikes are fabulous, Whinchats are lovely, but they just don't come close to Wheatears. Perfection in a tiny package, they herald spring migration like no other species, they're the ones we all wait for. Sure we get LRPs, early Sand Martins and the like, but they're just not, well not Wheatears frankly. The little eye mask, the brilliant flush of peach, the silvery back, and of course the rump. Oh the rump, the arse! It's just so, so splendid, so pure, so...so white. That first flash of white-arse, a joy as it flits away. You don't often see the bird at first, but the white emblazoned across the retina brings with it the joyous realisation that they're back and that a new season has begun. * lengthy applause * But I know that you all know that, as you're all fans too. We all are. 

Anyway, a few Thank Yous, there are so many people here that made this possible. First of all to Steve, whose marvellous idea this was. Many people thought that this competition was a piss-take, a way of expressing ire at the number of Wheatear images that appear on the internet from about late March, but nothing could be further than the truth. Northern Wheatears, Desert Wheatears,  in fact any Wheatear at all, Steve's a believer. 

To Tim, who found the first one, you're a hero, a legend, I couldn't have done it without you. Indeed all the patch-workers in Wanstead who patiently staked out the birds whilst I was at work, staying with them until I could get out, my thanks to you all.

I'd like to thank all my fellow competitors of course for a race well run. Really we're all in it together, we share a common objective, a common love. Your ambition spurred me on, and I look forward to next year. 

I'd like to thank my Mum and Dad, who ensured I got well enough educated to get a job which allowed me to buy the camera in the first place, and who I think now know what a Wheatear is. 

To the engineers at Canon, what can I say? The kit is superb, I can think of no better way to use it than to utterly wear my shutter out on a single species, and that of course is Oenanthe oenanthe. This trophy is partially yours too. 

In fact it belongs to everyone, even though it is going on my mantelpiece. I'd like to dedicate this win to to all white-arse fanciers everywhere. Thank You. Thank you. Thank you. Excuse me while I go and sit on that hummock. * bursts into tears *  * immense applause *

Wheatears again

We seem to have a second wave, with up to seven on the Flats today following three yesterday. It was wet and miserable out there, but perhaps this is what allowed me to get ridiculously close to one of them. It looked damp and, frankly, pissed off, and I ended up pretty damp too whilst getting photos of it, but came away happy, where the Wheatear (which didn't move at all) probably remained peeved. Shame there was no sunshine, but these should set the scene. Hopefully more sunshine next week, and with it more birds. April has been amazing, I've had three patch lifers and missed another.