Streaked Locustella warblers in autumn can be the stuff of nightmares. Near-impossible to flush, whirring away low and fast and then disappearing, never to be seen again, they give a whole new meaning to the word ‘elusive’. Their plumage is sombre and complex, and the identification features are small and subtle, so that even if there is time to raise your binoculars and ‘lock on’ to one, your chances of nailing an identification are not high. Truly, these birds can reduce grown men to tears!
Nevertheless, two species of these confounding warblers are among the most highly sought after of all autumn migrants. They can also be the stuff of dreams. The combination of maddening behaviour and potential rarity means that every encounter with the two is a heady mix of excitement and frustration, and to the connoisseur of ‘small, brown, streaky birds’ this genus contains some of the ultimate prizes.
In autumn, three species are on the radar: Grasshopper, Pallas’s Grasshopper and Lanceolated Warblers. The other (unstreaked) Locustellas – Savi’s and River Warblers – present a different range of ID issues and are beyond this article’s scope.
Once our own breeding Grasshopper Warblers have faded away in August, any autumn Locustella will be a migrant from Europe or beyond and will therefore most likely be found on the east coast. At such times, Grasshopper Warbler is still the default species, but Lanceolated and Pallas’s Grasshopper Warblers are doubtless overlooked.
Grasshopper Warbler
This is a relatively common breeding bird in Britain and across northern Europe and western Asia, though it is familiar to most as a singing bird in spring, not as a skulking autumn migrant. The smaller form straminea occurs east of the Urals.
Pallas’s Grasshopper Warbler
This is a much more eastern species, breeding only in central and eastern Siberia, and wintering in SouthEast Asia. A number of forms have been recognised and, given the variety in the appearance of those reaching Britain, it seems likely that more than one is involved.
Formerly a great rarity, this species is now nearannual between mid-September and mid-October, though the Northern Isles dominate. There are at least 46 records, but only 11 away from Shetland.
Lanceolated Warbler
This species breeds across Siberia and winters in South-East Asia. However, it is extending its breeding range westwards and now breeds as close as Karelia, in north-west Russia, with spring singers regularly recorded in neighbouring Finland.
Lanceolated Warblers are annual in Britain between mid-September and mid-October, though in tiny numbers, with Fair Isle the classic location. Elsewhere this is a very rare, though presumably overlooked, bird. Of some 130 records to date, only 22 have been away from Shetland.
Finding a Locustella
In autumn any of these three species is a ‘good bird’. Finding one, however, is a challenge. Their ultra-secretive nature means that almost all will go unnoticed. They are only ever regularly found in places which combine minimal cover and high search effort. Away from Shetland, however, your task is considerably more difficult and there are only two real strategies. The first is to find somewhere coastal as open, bare and barren as possible. Ignore all your experience of migrant hunting and mental images of welcoming sycamores and sallows and look for somewhere a warbler should hate.
Then you need persistence. A Locustella warbler will never just hop out and perch in the open as you walk past. Instead, you need to put on your walking boots and methodically walk the ground, concentrating on a whole range of ‘micro-habitats’ – ditches, tufts of grass, patches of weeds, the bases of walls and so on. Any slight anomaly in flat ground may hide a bird – to find a Locustella, think of where you might hide if you were a mouse. Although you can do this alone, there is some merit in a more co-ordinated approach by two or three like-minded companions, as this will maximise your chances of flushing a bird.
Then, very occasionally and if you are lucky, a dark, whirring shape will fly up f rom your feet. What do you do now? The first thing is to be sure that what you have just found really is a Locustella. Normally the bird’s rapid, low and whirring flight and abrupt drop into cover will be sufficient pointers, but an ability to run fast on the ground under vegetation and disappear completely, defying any further flushing attempts, will be further confirmation. If any view on the ground is achieved, look for the slightly curved outer wing and the extra-long undertail coverts – both unique to Locustella and additional evidence that you haven’t glimpsed, for example, a Sedge Warbler or a Dunnock.
Getting views
Unfortunately, many attempts at identification beyond this point end in failure, with the bird immediately lost. The sad reality is that a high percentage of Locustellas will remain forever unidentified. Much, however, depends on the habitat. Locustellas are not necessarily afraid of people – they are largely oblivious, just making use of whatever cover is available. On Shetland, they often walk about in the open in thick grass, but elsewhere in Britain, where there is always much denser habitat available, this is a much less likely scenario.
Here you have two options, though neither guarantees success. The first involves attempting to ‘encourage’ the bird into a viewable position (best of course with a couple of companions), but this approach has a high failure rate. A couple more flight views might result, but the bird then usually goes to ground and resists any further attempts at observation.
The other approach is to stand back and hope that the bird emerges, though this may or may not be successful. Should you get views, however, it is important to focus on the important characters quickly, as highlighted in the following photographs.
FITEEN: Lanceolated Warbler (Hong Kong, China, 26 October 2009). This ‘field guide perfect’ bird is the same as that featured in photo 11. Here it can be seen that the amazingly heavy blackish ‘drop-shaped’ marks on the upper breast and upper flanks also extend to the rear flanks and undertail coverts. Though most are not as striking as this, the other features of the species are also easily seen here: the brown rather than olive hues, the stoutish bill, the heavily streaked crown and mantle, crisp tertial contrasts, short, narrow tail, a very short primary projection and heavy ‘blobs’ on the uppertail coverts, all reminiscent of the end of a mascara brush. Its mouse or shrew-like jizz is apparent even in the hand, emphasising its willingness to creep away from an observer rather than take flight.