Piltanton Burn - 24.x.23

 Rain clouds gathering from the east on a chilly breeze, brief glimpses of the sun.

The tide was at its lowest ebb when I arrived at 2.40pm. I headed upstream first as no dog-walkers were visible in that direction. As usual, several Redshank tiptoed enthusiastically on the riverine mud as they pecked at food items, while a single diminutive Dunlin scampered about among them. More redshank were in the shallows, along with a couple of Greenshank and Little Egrets. Some Curlew used their longer legs and bills to hunt in deeper water, where a few Red-breasted Mergansers waited for the current to reverse and bring them some fish from the open sea.

A small flock of starling rose from the strandline where heaps of decaying seaweed grow ever larger each time I visit. There were smaller birds with them, about 15 of which were Greenfinches. When three others alighted on a fence I could see they were Twite. This is a scarce but regular species along the Wigtownshire coast outside the breeding season. Whenever I see them, I am reminded of the animal quiz we did at school when I was a thirteen year old fledgling birder. The science teacher would call out a letter of the alphabet and each student had to write down an animal beginning with that letter. If anyone put the same as you, you got no points. When T was announced, I chose Twite, thinking it would be obscure enough to earn me a point. Indeed, I myself knew the species only by name from my bird book, having never actually seen one in the flesh. Unfortunately, my teacher was among those who had never even heard of such a creature and he disallowed it. Fifty years later, I still feel a burning sense of injustice!

Heading seawards, I found a couple more Greenshank and plenty of their red-legged cousins. Curlew and Oystercatchers were scattered far and wide but definitely fewer than earlier in the autumn. Way out across Luce Sands a tight flock of waders proved to be Golden Plover, perhaps 350 in number. Some Wigeon could be picked out further along the edge of the main channel but before I managed to approach closer for a count, an ominous bank of dark cloud that had been threatening from the east rolled closer over the Machars and I felt the first spits of rain. Anticipating a deluge, I turned tail and returned to the car thinking the day was done, but the most unexpected sighting was yet to come. As I drove along the entrance track past the golf course, a Spotted Flycatcher appeared on the fence just a few metres away. In spite of the harassment it received from a pair of Robins, I got good views of the streaky forehead and crown as it perched in that characteristic upright posture. I know the species breeds just a couple of miles away in Balkail Glen Wood, where I found two pairs back in the summer, but the habitat here was unsuitable so I assume the bird was on passage. In any event, it seems to be a very late record. Recent D&G annual reports give last records in mid-September, a whole month earlier.

P.S. The Mitsubishi hippopotamus still sits in the middle of the creek, now with gaping holes in its flanks. I suspect crocodiles have been at it.