Sunrise, Sandpipers and Paul’s Great Escape

 

There are few things more likely to make you question your life choices than the sound of an alarm clock going off before dawn on a Saturday morning.

However, on Saturday 18th July 2026, Paul Joy and I dragged ourselves from our beds at an hour when most sensible people—and probably quite a few sensible birds—were still fast asleep.

Our destination was Blackrock at Port Skewett, where we hoped to photograph the sunrise over the Severn Estuary using our drones.

Waiting for sunrise at Blackrock

Sunrise Over the Severn

When we arrived at Blackrock, the eastern sky was already beginning to glow with a beautiful orange light.

The tide was still well out, exposing the great swathes of dark rock that give Blackrock its name. Beyond them stood the familiar shape of the First Severn Crossing, silhouetted against the increasingly colourful sky.

Even before the sun appeared, the views across the estuary were fantastic.

Eventually, the sun began to rise behind the bridge, burning its way through a bank of low cloud. For a while, the cloud softened the light and helped create some wonderfully atmospheric views across the Severn.

Once everything was ready, I launched my drone and flew it out towards Charston Rock Lighthouse.

The little white lighthouse is one of my favourite photographic subjects along this stretch of the estuary. Surrounded by exposed rocks and with the Severn Crossing rising behind it, it provided the perfect focal point for the sunrise.

Charston Lighthouse

From the air, the landscape looked magnificent. The exposed rocks formed dark patterns across the estuary while the orange morning light reflected from the remaining pools of water.

Getting out of bed suddenly seemed slightly less ridiculous.

Paul and I spent some time flying our drones and photographing the changing light. Sunrise photography is often over surprisingly quickly. One moment you are waiting in semi-darkness and the next the sun is climbing rapidly into the sky, taking the best colour with it.

Thankfully, we had both managed to capture some photographs before the light became too harsh.

Sunrise viewed from the Blackrocks

The Essential Greggs Stop

With the sunrise safely photographed and our drones returned to earth, there was only one sensible course of action.

Greggs.

Every serious wildlife and photography expedition requires careful planning, reliable equipment and, apparently, a strategically timed visit to Greggs.

After our pitstop, we headed across the Severn towards WWT Slimbridge, where we had arranged to meet the final member of the Three Amigos, Nicola Johns.

The weather was glorious, with clear blue skies and warm sunshine. In fact, by the afternoon it had become perhaps a little too glorious.

Wildlife photographers are rarely completely satisfied with the weather. We complain when it rains, complain when it is cloudy and then complain that it is too hot when the sun finally appears.

Green Sandpipers Galore

One of the first highlights at Slimbridge was the number of Green Sandpipers around the reserve.

We enjoyed some excellent views of these smart little waders as they fed along the muddy margins. Several birds were present, giving us plenty of opportunities to watch and photograph them.

Green Sandpipers.

Despite their name, Green Sandpipers are not obviously green. Their upperparts are more of a dark olive-brown, finely speckled with white, while their contrasting white underparts give them a very distinctive appearance.

Their habit of suddenly flying away while calling loudly can occasionally make you wonder what terrible photographic offence you have committed.

Thankfully, the birds at Slimbridge were reasonably cooperative, and we managed some good views before continuing our walk around the reserve.

Paul Goes Walkabout

At some point during the afternoon, Paul escaped from his carers again.

Nicola and I briefly took our eyes off him and, before we knew it, he had disappeared.

This is not an unusual occurrence.

Paul has a habit of wandering off at wildlife locations whenever something catches his attention. Nicola and I have discussed fitting him with a tracking device, although there is always the danger that he would remove it and attach it to a passing Canada Goose.

Fortunately, this particular escape proved worthwhile.

Paul had gone walkabout and discovered a Buddleia bush absolutely covered in butterflies. Once he had been recaptured, he led us back to it.

The bush was alive with colour and movement. Red Admirals, Painted Ladies and Commas were all feeding among the purple flowers, constantly opening and closing their wings in the sunshine.

Buddleia is sometimes called the butterfly bush, and on this occasion it was certainly living up to its name.

Comma Butterfly

However, among all the butterflies was something even more exciting.

A Humming-bird Hawk-moth.

A Hummingbird That Isn’t a Bird

The Humming-bird Hawk-moth must be one of the most extraordinary insects that can be encountered in Britain.

It hovered in front of the Buddleia flowers, rapidly moving from bloom to bloom while feeding with its long proboscis. Its wings were moving so quickly that they appeared as little more than a blur.

Watching one feed, it is easy to understand how it received its name. Its hovering flight and ability to move backwards and sideways make it look remarkably like a tiny hummingbird.

Humming-bird Hawk-moth

Humming-bird Hawk-moths are migrants to Britain, arriving mainly from southern Europe and North Africa. They can be seen across the UK, with numbers usually peaking during the summer months.

Their wings can beat around 80 times per second, which goes some way towards explaining why photographing one sharply can become a test of both camera settings and personal patience.

They are day-flying moths and are often attracted to nectar-rich flowers such as Buddleia, Red Valerian and Honeysuckle. Although most arrive from continental Europe, some are now believed to survive the winter in sheltered parts of southern Britain.

I managed to take some photographs as it moved between the flowers.

Photographing one is not easy. Just as you focus on it, it shoots sideways to another bloom, hovers briefly and then vanishes from the viewfinder.

It is rather like trying to photograph a tiny, heavily caffeinated helicopter.

Nevertheless, simply seeing one so well was one of the highlights of the day.

Paul was therefore forgiven for escaping his carers.

Temporarily.

Dragons Around the Reserve

The hot and sunny weather was also perfect for dragonflies.

As we explored more of the reserve, we found several Black-tailed Skimmers and Common Darters resting beside the paths and patrolling the pools.

Black-tailed Skimmers frequently settle on open ground with their wings held forward, often choosing paths and boardwalks as convenient sunbathing areas.

Black-Tailed Skimmer

Common Darters were also busy, repeatedly leaving their perches to chase smaller insects before returning to the same spot.

The best dragonfly find, however, was a Scarce Chaser.

Despite its name, the Scarce Chaser has expanded its range in Britain during recent decades, although it remains a much less familiar sight than many of our common dragonflies.

Scarce Chaser

Seeing one added another excellent insect to an afternoon that had already produced butterflies, moths, skimmers and darters.

Slimbridge is best known for its birds, but warm summer days reveal just how much other wildlife can be found around the reserve.

Sometimes all you need to do is slow down, check the vegetation beside the paths and make sure Paul has not wandered off again.

An Inca at Slimbridge

We also spent some time looking around the collection of exhibit birds, where we found a magnificent Inca Tern.

This striking South American seabird is instantly recognisable, with its dark plumage, bright red bill and extraordinary white moustache-like feathers curling away from either side of its face.

Inca Tern.

It looks rather like a seabird that has dressed for a formal Victorian dinner.

The Inca Tern gave us some lovely views and was another unexpected photographic highlight before we began making our way out of the reserve.

A Fleeting Flash of Clouded Yellow

Another exciting find was a beautiful Clouded Yellow butterfly feeding on the bright yellow flowers of Fleabane. It moved busily from flower to flower, almost perfectly matching the golden blooms beneath it. 

Clouded Yellow Butterfly.

Clouded Yellows usually keep their wings firmly closed when they settle, leaving photographers waiting hopefully for even the briefest glimpse of the upperwings. For one glorious millisecond, this particular butterfly opened its wings while resting on a flower, revealing its rich yellow colour before snapping them shut again. Whether my camera reacted as quickly as the butterfly is another matter entirely, but it was a wonderful moment

The Three Amigos Ride Again

By late afternoon, the heat had begun to take its toll, and a cold drink was becoming increasingly attractive.

We finished our Three Amigos day at the nearby Tudor Arms, where we sat down with a well-earned beer.

Mine and Nicola’s were non-alcoholic, while Paul—now safely back under supervision—was allowed to choose his own.

It had been an excellent day from beginning to end.

We had watched the sun rise behind the First Severn Crossing, flown our drones around Charston Rock Lighthouse, enjoyed some excellent Green Sandpipers and found a superb selection of butterflies and dragonflies.

The Clouded Yellow provided us with a fleeting flash of its open wings, while the Humming-bird Hawk-moth performed its remarkable hovering act among the Buddleia flowers discovered by our runaway companion.

As usual, the wildlife was fantastic, the photography was enjoyable and the company made the day.

The Three Amigos had ridden again.