A CHESTNUT BUNTING ON THE EDGE OF BRITAIN

Last week, a photograph emerged of an unusual bunting found on the remote Orkney island of Papa Westray. The image was far from conclusive—the bird partially obscured in vegetation—but it immediately sparked intrigue. Early thoughts suggested something remarkable: a Chestnut Bunting. With no further sightings, the bird was quickly forgotten, written off as a fleeting mystery not worth the considerable effort of pursuit.

That possibility became reality on 25 October, when news broke that the Papa Westray bunting had been refound. Phones rang, plans were made at speed, and a team assembled for my first ever scheduled charter flight with Sean Cole, Phil Woollen, Chris Bromley, and Stuart Butchart. The next morning, we were heading north.

Me and Sean, before we headed north

On arrival, we were met by Jonathan, the island ranger, who led us straight to the site. There, feeding unconcernedly in long vegetation, was the bird itself. For the next couple of hours, it teased observers, playing hide and seek as it fed voraciously, only occasionally offering partial views through the stems.

Patience was eventually rewarded when the bunting flew up onto a nearby dry-stone wall. Here it showed superbly, seemingly indifferent to human presence, pausing to feed before scuttling back into its preferred patch of pineapple mayweed and annual meadow grass.

The significance of this bird lies not only in its rarity but in how well it fits established patterns of natural occurrence. The Chestnut Bunting is a highly migratory species that breeds across northeast Asia, from eastern Siberia and the Russian Far East through parts of Mongolia and northeastern China. Each autumn it undertakes a long southward migration, wintering in southern China and Southeast Asia, including Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and Cambodia. Late autumn vagrancy to western Europe, while exceptional, is entirely consistent with this migration system.

Currently, Chestnut Bunting sits in Category E of the British List, with previous British records considered escapes from captivity. However, there are nine accepted records in the Western Palearctic, all occurring between late September and mid-November—exactly the window into which the Papa Westray bird falls.

Given its timing, location, behaviour, and association with a wider arrival of Siberian migrants, there is no reason to suspect this bird was anything other than wild. As such, the Papa Westray Chestnut Bunting may yet prove to be the first genuine record of this species for Britain, a landmark discovery made on one of the country’s most remote and evocative islands.

Heading home after another great Twitch

A Transatlantic Gem: Wilson’s Warbler on the Isle of Lewis Thirty years to the day since Britain’s last record

October 13th delivered a truly special treat when news broke that a Wilson’s Warbler had been found on the Isle of Lewis—remarkably, exactly 30 years to the day since the species was last recorded in Britain. With a swift team assembly, I set off with Dan Pointon, John Pegden, and Mike Frosdick, driving through the night to Ullapool before catching the ferry across to Stornoway.

We arrived the following morning and were rewarded almost immediately with superb views of this cracking little Nearctic migrant. Watching such a scarce visitor feeding actively in a Hebridean setting was surreal and unforgettable.

This remarkable individual represented the first record for Scotland, the second for Britain, following the long-standing record at Rame Head, Cornwall, on 13 October 1985, and the third for Britain & Ireland, after a bird recorded on Dursey Island, County Cork, in 2013—making its appearance on the same calendar date as the original British record all the more extraordinary.

The Wilson’s Warbler (Cardellina pusilla) is a small, brightly coloured New World warbler that breeds across North America, from Alaska and Canada south through the western United States. It winters primarily in Central America, favouring dense scrub and woodland undergrowth.

In a European context, Wilson’s Warbler is an exceptional vagrant, with only a handful of records across the Western Palearctic. In Britain and Ireland, it remains one of the rarest Nearctic warblers ever recorded, with just three accepted records, each separated by many years and each occurring in October—highlighting the species’ extreme scarcity and the extraordinary nature of this Lewis bird.

To connect with a bird of this calibre—especially under such remarkable circumstances—was a real privilege and one of those birding moments that will linger long in the memory.

Great twitch these three nutters!