That time of year

Every Autumn it's the same: the birdwatching world lights up with bells and whistles and each day brings a mouthwatering array of rare and "mega" reports to the sightings lists. And they're always somewhere else. 

The Northwest of England doesn't often host anything rare or very rare, there'll be one or two a year and even less often in Autumn, it tends to be in Winter or Spring. Meanwhile Flamborough and Shetland and Scilly and Cornwall are being spoilt rotten. It's hard sometimes to feel it's not a bit unfair somehow. Then again, having lived in the Midlands I know how lucky we are to have a seaboard within easy travelling distance and what a difference that makes to the year list! That sets me thinking that even though we're not a twitcher's paradise we are remarkably lucky to have such a rich mosaic of different habitats and sites in a relatively small area that I've got to more than 200 species on my year list with only a handful of days birdwatching outside the region. And you know what? Even if I couldn't get to 200 species I would still be getting out and about, still would be enjoying the scenery and the birdwatching and still be bitching about the public transport. All of that is more important than the numbers. Well, perhaps not the bitching about public transport.

It's good to go further afield once in a while and see something new and different but whether you're birding a region, a local patch or a back garden it's important to enjoy the moments and not fret too much about how much you might be missing elsewhere. After all, even if you were in the right place at the right time there's no guarantee that you'd be able to see what you were looking for. And it's worth remembering that one man's rarity is another man's easy tick, you'd be surprised how many common English garden birds trigger requests for rarity submissions in the Northern Isles outside the Autumn migration period.

Which doesn't mean I don't look at pictures of Arctic redpolls or red-flanked bluetails or whatnot disporting in people's gardens and think to myself: "Wouldn't it be nice…"