August was a very quiet month. It always is: most birds are skulking away in post-breeding moult and the Autumn passage migration is only just beginning. Add to that this year a couple of ferociously hot heatwaves where anything with any sense (and even me) was saving its energy and keeping to the shade.
Having said that I still managed to keep the year list ticking over, finally managing to connect with a cattle egret and sanderlings, bumping into a passing tree pipit by accident and, of course, bobbing over to Redcar to add greater sand plover to the life list. The year list sits at 198, my British list at 290.
By month's end the robins are back singing and I've been getting small mixed tit flocks — blue, coal, great and long-tailed — coming onto the garden feeders again. The swifts are a distant memory and the swallows are gathered on the telegraph wires. Time flies when you're having fun.
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