I always feel sad when I see a bird which is so spectacularly out of place. Whether it’s an American Blackbird in Orkney or an American Grey Catbird in Cornwall, there’s something tragic about thousands of people flocking to see a bird which is thousands of miles from home.
The same is true for this Lesser Yellowlegs which has pitched up in Weymouth.
It’s meant to be in America, living somewhere from Alaska to Quebec and migrating south to the Gulf Coast and South America. Yet here it is, by itself, by the water on the south coast of England.
Apparently about five of them a year get swept over in storms or get disorientated and pitch up in the UK.
It’s a beautiful bird but I suspect that’s it’s the end of its particular genetic line. I don’t think this Tringa flavipes is going to get home anytime soon.
In the meantime it’ll live out its days as a curiosity for the crowds. How do you feel about orphan birds, thousands of miles from home?