This article first appeared in the March 2026 edition of Birdwatching Magazine
The last time I stood glass in hand, surrounded by people counting down to midnight, must have been in the 1980s. Being a curmudgeonly hermit, I don’t miss that one bit. This year, like every other for the last thirty, I lay in bed cursing the revellers as I tried to nod off. Even sans hearing aid, fireworks made me jump, curse, then try to regain my repose. Reports of terrible weather had led me to cancel our planned New Year’s Day destination. Being coastal, we resolved to scan from the local beaches and pop over to the closest wetland and nature reserve.
When we first started this tradition, each New Year’s Day we tried to see a hundred birds before day’s end. We never quite managed that, of course, but on many occasions, we got quite close. Now we set somewhat lower targets. We’ll never beat that 94 from the 1990s, but we still hope for the 70s and maybe even the low 80s, if we visit somewhere renowned for winter raptors, passerine flocks, a myriad of waders and a multitude of wildfowl.
Nevertheless, we set our sights on fifty with high hopes. Regular readers will know, that’s always a mistake. It’s far better to set the bar low and be pleasantly surprised. But this GOB is a closet optimist. I set out with hopes high, optics loaded and the best spotter I know riding shotgun.
My son, having panned my competitiveness, was out there too. His inland patch is just across the road from his house; a wetland reserve on the edge of town.
We struggled, despite surprises. A huge field had just one occupant; a Cattle Egret, which was joined later by a long-distance Great White Egret. Yet, despite there being 32 Little Egrets last time I visited our nearby wetland, this year there were none.
We returned home, rather pleased with fifty-four species setting a firm base for our year list. We’ve had years before when our preferred destination had to be put on hold and each time, we compensated by getting out several times in week one. So, despite the low list, we thought we’d have time to top it up between weather warnings.
I hadn’t expected the text message from my son & heir telling me that he’d made it to fifty-nine species, having switched his patch for a bigger one. He was happy then to share with me his listed species, many we very rarely see at any time of year, let alone day one! Adding insult to injury, he texted me later to say he’d miscounted the actual total was sixty-three.
Despite not having a competitive bone in my body, over the next couple of days we managed to forge ahead, but still having to be local, only managed to get to seventy-one species. What has surprised me most, although it shouldn’t because it’s happened before, is that there are so many really common birds that we just haven’t seen.
Everyday birds, which are literally there whenever we go out, even to the local supermarket or other errand. These silver surfers did not strike gold. No Goldcrests, no Goldfinches and not even Golden Plovers, where most Januarys there are literally thousands. Where are all the Linnets and Reed Buntings, Wrens, Meadow Pipits and Snipe? We’ve seen Bean Geese, but no Canadas, Grey Partridges but no frenchies? Hawekeye says I should not complain, but her cup is always half full, sadly, mine’s half empty.
If you have been, thanks for reading and a belated happy new year… I hope you already have long lists!
