Like many seaside resorts, Hayling Island has an air of desolation in the off-season. The beaches are all but deserted, the light is pale and milky, and the screams of children at the funfair have been replaced with the whistles and jumbled warbling of starlings gathering on the seafront rooftops. Perhaps that’s why one of the world’s most northerly recorded passerine species feels at home wintering on our shores.
The snow bunting is a scarce breeding species in the UK, with fewer than 100 pairs confined to Scotland’s highest peaks. During winter they move down to the ski centre carparks to forage for picnic crumbs, but rarely travel further afield. However, autumn brings 10,000 to 15,000 migrants to the UK from their breeding grounds in Iceland and Fennoscandia. These birds are infrequently found inland. Instead, they gravitate to shingle and sandy shorelines, salt marshes and coastal grazing. Favouring Scotland and eastern England, they are still quite a rarity here on the south coast, so the arrival of a lone bird on the spit of land adjacent to Sandy Point nature reserve caused some excitement.
The charismatic visitor had drawn a small crowd of birders, photographers and curious passersby, but was unperturbed by their presence and remarkably confiding. Oblivious even to the approach of an off-lead dog, it busily gleaned weed seeds in a patch of shingle opposite the shore path, pausing now and then to flit on to a larvikite boulder to wipe its bill clean and sip from a puddle of rainwater. Like most ground foragers, it didn’t hop. Instead, it walked back and forth with a shambling gait, its belly hugging the ground and mottled back and wings providing perfect camouflage against the stony substrate.
Snow buntings are known colloquially as “snowflakes”; this refers not just to their white breeding plumage but also their tendency to flutter over each other’s backs in flight, giving the impression of a snow flurry. In winter, their feathers develop an orangey-buff wash. The colouration was particularly pronounced on this individual’s crown, nape, breast and cheeks, reminiscent of an overzealous and patchy application of fake tan.
• Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian’s Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at guardianbookshop.com and get a 15% discount
