Rebecca Armstrong

I’M not a twitcher. For one thing I don’t own a car, so travelling all over the country would rely on our somewhat underfunded public transport system. I’m also not great at keeping lists – or rather maintaining them. I get very inspired to start them, but then find I gradually forget to update them.

However, the UK does have an active and dedicated twitching community. People who travel the country to see birds, share their sightings with others and who, with their meticulous record keeping, add to our wider understanding of the species with which we share this planet.

But with every twitch comes the danger of not connecting with the target species: the dreaded dip. It’s a hurt that every twitcher has experienced at some point – arriving on site just moments after the bird flies off or planning a Saturday morning trip only for that longedfor rarity to have disappeared overnight.

Such painful misses are all part of the excitement, though, and they make for some great anecdotes. Funny, frustrating or just downright excruciating, this month we’re celebrating these tales of woe, with birders sharing their worst – or best, depending on your point of view – dips (see pages 26-29). I’m sure many readers can relate!

Do you have a similar story of the one that got away? Something that still keeps you awake at night, months or even years later? If so, let us know. We want to hear all about your biggest dips. Email us at editorial@birdwatch.co.uk or get in touch via Twitter @BirdwatchExtra, using the hashtag #DippingYarns. We’ll publish a selection of our favourites in a forthcoming issue of the magazine.