Christmas Encounter

 

I have stated in my blog before that I am a lazy wildlife watcher. I find it hard to get up at the crack of dawn, and I would rather be tucked up in the warmth when it is dark. I am easily distracted by every living creature, and so staking out a particular species is always a challenge. In the past, I have tried to sit patiently at the bankside for Kingfishers, but this always failed; a buzzard behind me or a fox on the other bank would me draw my attention away from the Kingfisher, which would appear the minute I moved from my spotting spot.

I rely primarily on luck, providence and divine intervention when watching wildlife. I go out with no real intentions other than just a destination in mind, and let the wind take me and see what turns up.

On this Christmas Eve, I was not particularly inspired; the weather had taken a turn for the colder, and I was in a somewhat melancholic mood. My usual survey day is a Sunday; then I walk my standard route, recording all birds and animals seen or heard. Part of this walk includes the patch of land I manage, where I swap out the memory cards on my trail cameras. This Sunday, I was unable to collect the card from Otter Cam because the flood waters were too high for me to reach the camera.

With this in mind and knowing that a bracing walk is always a mood booster, I opted to pop down and collect that memory card. Despite the winter sunshine, there was a cold wind, and I decided to just take the most direct route to the camera and then head home.

As soon as I arrived, I spotted a Little Egret on the mill pond island and then a Cormorant on the river. By the camera, I spotted a buzzard and then spooked a deer in the undergrowth. At the feeding station, I saw a Great Tit and Robin. Each of these encounters lifted my mood so that by the time I reached the path, I was ready to stay out a little longer. I did not feel like walking downriver and instead opted for something I rarely ever do. I chose to carry straight on and walk by the mill pond on the peninsula managed by Saxon Mill Fishery.

It was this very whim that created a magical moment. As I neared the riverbank, I spotted a Kingfisher on a nearby branch. It was spooked by my approach and took flight, but my attention was drawn to something in the water, a dark flash of something moving behind a tree. I had a hunch, but I did wonder if it was a duck. I peered around the tree expecting to see the mallard, but there was nothing. Whatever it was had dived – a little grebe perhaps? I then noticed the telltale sign of small bubbles; my heart leapt. Otters often leave a trail of little bubbles when they swim underwater. I tried to follow the trail through the surging, muddy water, but soon lost it. I scoured both banks with my binoculars and caught a fleeting glimpse of a small otter emerging and then submerging by the far bank. I spent the next ten minutes tracking up and down the bank trying to spot it, rewarded only with the glimpse of a tail or the loud splash as it dived. Fairly soon thereafter, all went quiet, and I decided to head round to the mill and home.

At the mill, I peered across the mill pond, and in the distance, I spotted the distinct wake of something swimming in the water. Zooming in, I was treated to the sight of not one but two otters crossing. I quickly set up my camera and settled in to watch.

The pair of otters was known to me as an adult female and her cub. I see them quite regularly on the trail camera. This late in the year, the cub was nearly the same size as the mother, distinguished only by a smaller face and lighter throat markings. The pair swam together across the mill pond, diving frequently.

Interestingly, as they dove, you could see their arched backs, which looked a lot like the serpentine movement of a monster. Some suggest that this is what people see when they think they have seen the Loch Ness monster, and I believe that this has some merit—trying to spot the otters in the wind-swept muddy waters.

It was obvious that the pair were foraging. The dives were deep, and there was no evidence of play behaviour. The river is full of fish but with the water still high it is heavily silt laden reducing visibility considerably. It is in these conditions that the otters’ strong whiskers come in useful, which they use to sense prey. Despite their skills they did not appear to catch any sizeable fish. I did see them eating something, but it was small and unidentifiable. Other than crossing the mill pond they tended to keep to the banksides, foraging along the edges and around the driftwood. I watched them from a comfortable distance for 20 minutes until they drifted off downriver and disappeared.

This encounter is proof that you never know what you are going to find when out in the great British countryside. Were it not for that split-second whim to try the other path, I would never have seen these two otters, my fourth-ever live sighting of Otters in the UK. Be it Lady Luck or the lord himself, providence definitely shone on me today.

Reflecting on a Year of Birding and Looking Ahead

As the year draws to a close, I find it’s the perfect moment to reflect on what I’ve experienced and set my sights on new goals for the coming year. This year, I made greater use of BirdTrack to log my sightings and took a deeper dive into analysing my data and what it reveals.

The local birding group, which I’d join more often if I weren’t such a solo soul, follows the “Warwick 100”—an annual quest to spot 100 species. Bird Watching magazine sets the bar even higher with their “#My200Bird” challenge. My own efforts, focused solely on Warwick and its surroundings, reached a respectable 72 species as of December 12th—just one shy of last year’s total.

A highlight of the year was spotting a ‘lifer’: my first-ever Yellow Wagtail, which appeared in July in a cornfield. Other memorable sightings included Bar-tailed Godwit and Gadwall. I also noticed an increase in sightings of Stonechat, Little Egret, Peregrine, and Red Kite.

Yellow Wagtail

Looking ahead to 2026, I have a few targets in mind. I hope to capture good photographs of a Yellowhammer, Water Rail, and Peregrine, and to finally spot a Cetti’s Warbler at Kingfisher Pools, where they’re known to frequent in summer. On my own land, I’d love to see the return of Willow Tit, Bullfinch, and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker.

My “holy grail” challenge is to photograph a Snipe. Thanks to conservation work at Warwick Racecourse, wintering Snipe numbers are improving—five individuals were seen this year, up from previous years. It would be incredible if they could be encouraged to stay into spring and summer, with the long-term hope of successful breeding.

Writing and publishing my book took up much of my time this year, so in 2026, I want to refocus on the patch of land I manage, especially my goal to create a series of scrapes beside the river. After meeting with Warwickshire Wildlife Trust for advice, I’m eager to put their ideas into action and move the project forward.

Of course, I can’t neglect my beloved camera traps. By the end of this month, I’ll have collected five years of data from Otter Cam. I plan to spend time analyzing this data, comparing the diversity along the river to that in the hedgerow.

Challenges and goals keep life interesting and give us direction, but it’s essential not to be beholden to them. Set some fun targets to help you get the most out of the next 12 months, decide how many species you want to see or perhaps focus on that one bird that has eluded you.

Here’s to another year of discovery and growth, both for the wildlife and for myself.

Camera Trapping - A Practical Handbook for Wildlife Researchers and Enthusiasts is Published!

 Following a year of hard work, my handbook is now complete and available to buy.

This has been a labour of love, and given its niche nature, I have chosen to self-publish via the website Lulu. This is an excellent website for producing written materials.

I have taken my time over this book and toyed with the idea of providing the material free of charge via a website. I went back and forth on this and opted for a paperback because that's how I like to work. I like printed matter, and when I am studying or learning new things, I find nothing better than having a text to thumb through rather than flipping between windows on a laptop. Call me old-fashioned.

This is not my first self-published book, but this time I approached it more professionally. I had it professionally reviewed by a science editor and had an artist design a front cover, both contracted via Reedsy. I rigorously checked my maths, which was tough given my difficulties with the subject. I enjoy maths, but only when it works!

The book was published this week and is currently only available on Lulu from this link:

Camera Trapping - A Practical Handbook for Wildlife Researchers and Enthusiasts

The book is priced at £19.99, which I hope people feel is a suitable price given the content. I have not written this book to make a pile of money; in fact, I will be happy to just break even. This is about sharing my experience and, hopefully, encouraging people to take up a fantastic hobby.

Eventually, it will be available via Amazon and Barnes and Noble, but may be priced higher due to their pricing structures.