As the days grow shorter and evenings start to have that autumnal chill, the Solent begins to come alive with bird activity.
This stretch of coastline – running between Hampshire, West Sussex and the Isle of Wight – becomes a bustling haven for thousands of migrating birds. For those of us who love nature, it’s a seasonal spectacle right on our doorstep.
Birds such as brent geese, godwits, teals, dunlins and oystercatchers migrate to survive. As winter approaches, food becomes scarce in the places where many birds breed – some as far north as the Arctic. To avoid the cold and find enough to eat, they travel to warmer regions where food is more plentiful. Some species fly just a few hundred miles, while others cross continents and oceans.
The Solent’s sheltered estuaries, mudflats and saltmarshes provide a rich feeding ground during the colder months. For thousands of birds, it’s not just a stopover: it’s a vital winter home.
Here are the migration stories of some of the remarkable travellers who’ll be arriving on our coastline, plus a look into how this natural phenomenon was understood by earlier generations.
Dark-bellied brent geese – Arctic commuters
These small, dark geese travel over 2,500 miles from the icy tundra of Siberia to the Solent, travelling in multi-generation family groups. They make several vital stopovers along the way, sometimes resting and feeding for weeks in places like the Wadden Sea in the Netherlands and northern Germany.
Arriving from late October onwards, their gentle ‘crrronking’ call and tight-knit flocks are a familiar sound and sight at places all along the Solent including Langstone Harbour, Lymington-Keyhaven Marshes and the Isle of Wight.
Black-tailed godwits – elegant long-distance flyers
With their long legs and delicate bills, black-tailed godwits are a graceful presence on the Solent mudflats, arriving from September. Some arrive as early as mid-summer.
Our godwits breed in Iceland, spending the winter often thousands of miles away from their mates, then reuniting after their return journey in the spring.
We’re lucky to know quite a bit about the migratory behaviour of the black-tailed godwits who spend the winter on the Solent.
This is thanks to an international network of observers who give up their time to track their movements. About 1.5% of the Icelandic black-tailed godwit population is colour-ringed and we know where more than half these birds have spent the winter.
Teals – tiny ducks with big journeys
Don’t let their size fool you – although teals are the smallest duck you’ll see in the UK, they travel vast distances from the Baltics and even as far as western Russia to reach the Solent every winter. Not bad for a duck that’s only just over half the size of a mallard.
Research indicates that it’s the length of the day which starts teals’ migration rather than the weather or wind direction. They take their time, stopping off on their long journeys, especially at the start, to rest and recover their energy.
Teals generally return to the Solent in October with numbers increasing through late autumn.
Dunlins – shape-shifting flocks
Dunlins are tiny wading birds that travel huge distances to the Solent from Scandinavia and Russia, arriving mainly from October onwards.
Other dunlins just pass through during their spring and autumn migrations, using the Solent coast as a pit-stop to rest and refuel.
They often form large murmurating flocks that wheel and twist in the air – one of the most glorious wildlife phenomena you’ll see along the Solent coast.
Oystercatchers – the loud shellfish specialists
With their striking black-and-white plumage and vivid orange bills, oystercatchers are hard to miss. They’re noisy, social birds that feed on mussels, cockles and other shellfish – often prising them open with impressive skill.
Many oystercatchers migrate here for the winter from other UK coastal areas, from Norway and from the Netherlands, while others stick around all year. The Solent’s rich intertidal zones provide a perfect buffet.
Research shows that juvenile oystercatchers tend to copy the migratory behaviour of their fathers – who often take the lead in parental care as the chicks grow older. This social learning plays an important role when the oystercatcher is deciding whether to migrate further north in the summer or to stay put on the Solent.
Migration myths: how our ancestors tried to explain the return of birds
Today, we understand the science behind our coastal birds’ extraordinary journeys – the seasonal rhythms, the navigational feats, the physiological endurance. But for our ancestors, these sudden arrivals were as mysterious as they were magical.
Before ornithology offered answers, people turned to myth, folklore and a kind of imaginative logic to explain where these birds had come from – and where they had been.
In Ancient Greece, they believed birds turned into fish while Aristotle thought some birds hibernated underground or even transformed into different species with the changing seasons.
In northern Europe, migratory geese posed a particular puzzle. These birds appeared each autumn, yet no one ever saw them nesting. The solution? It was thought they might grow from goose barnacles – the crustaceans found clinging to driftwood. It was a theory that persisted in medieval times.
Swallows, too, were the subject of much speculation. In the 16th century, it was widely believed they dived into ponds and slept in the mud through winter. A hundred years later, English academic Charles Morton proposed a more ambitious idea: that swallows migrated to the moon.
Even Gilbert White, the great 18th-century naturalist, doubted long-distance migration. He thought it more likely that swallows hibernated somewhere nearby – perhaps in hollow trees or old buildings.
Then, in 1822, came the breakthrough. A white stork arrived in the German village of Klutz with a central African arrow lodged in its neck. It was dramatic, gruesome – and conclusive.
This bird had flown thousands of miles, not vanished underground or morphed into something else. At least 25 such “arrow-storks” have since been recorded, and the first is still on display at the University of Rostock.
The Rostocker Pfeilstorch: Zoologische Sammlung der Universität Rostock via Wiki Commons
These stories remind us that migration, even now, retains a sense of wonder. We may understand the mechanics – the routes, the timings, the physiology – but the sheer scale of it still astonishes us.
Why the Solent is vital for wildlife
Migratory birds rely on the Solent’s unique habitats for survival. Its patchwork of mudflats and saltmarsh provide rich food sources, making the area of worldwide importance for wildlife.
Many birds arrive exhausted and hungry after travelling thousands of miles and will need space to rest and feed undisturbed. Even small actions can make a big difference to their survival.
If we’re out walking and notice birds becoming alert to our presence – they might be turning their heads, moving or flying away – it’s a sign they’ve noticed us and feel threatened. If we move further away, we’ll help them conserve energy.
Keeping dogs close or on leads near feeding or roosting areas is especially important since even brief disturbances can cause birds to abandon vital feeding and resting grounds.
Find out more about what we can do to help coastal birds by following the Bird Aware Coastal Code.
Take part in the Great Coastal Birdwatch
Celebrate the arrival of these incredible birds by joining the Great Coastal Birdwatch – an annual event open to everyone. Between Saturday 18 October and Sunday 2 November, if you’re heading to the coast, spend up to an hour spotting how many different bird species you can see.
