Birdwatch: On the trail of the elusive buff-breasted sandpiper
It never occurred to me, peering through rain-soaked binoculars, that I would have to wait 43 years to see another one
It was late September 1974. Manchester United led the old Second Division, Kung Fu Fighting was top of the pop charts, and the BBC had just launched its Ceefax service. Meanwhile, I was birdwatching on the Isles of Scilly, thanks to my mother's far-sighted decision to take me out of school for a fortnight, slap-bang in the middle of the migration season.
We saw some good birds, including Iceland gull, scarlet rosefinch and a sharp-tailed sandpiper from Siberia. But nearly 50 years later, those I remember best were three buff-breasted sandpipers, plump little waders that had flown all the way across the Atlantic, driven off course by the tail end of a hurricane.
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