Twitching by numbers: A birder's account of his hectic life as he chases rare species across Britain and Ireland

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While you all might take the piss (fair enough) I have got quite a bit of experience of writing and publishing books, one of which was about birdwatching, as I am sure you know. Please register for an account to take part in the discussions in the forum, post your pictures in the gallery and more.

I offered to proof read it for him and suggested that he get people who don't know him to read it, mainly for typos and content. Perhaps he ought to publish two editions - the revised sanitised version and the original, the latter to contain a warning on the cover that some of its content may cause offence to certain readers.Henry Fox-Talbot got so peeved by twitchers peering into his garden that he invented photography so that they could have books full of birdy photographs which would obviate this antisocial behaviour but it didn’t work very well and although there are squillions of such books the uninvited peering still goes on and these days with the added nuisance of throwing empty shandy cans into the aforementioned garden so the dog can mince them into small sharp shards. That takes a lot of bottle, but he has been rewarded with the satisfaction of standing, unsupported, on his own two feet. For some twitchers, travelling many miles to see a rare bird seems to lift their spirits to new levels of exhilaration. He has spent tens of thousands of pounds and travelled tens of thousands of miles chasing rare birds.

Insert joke about tits here, but seriously this is why women still feel so unwelcome in the birding community. This one can’t be blamed on twitchers, but there have also been cases where high profile birds have been shot – a red footed falcon in Shropshire and a little bustard in Norfolk – the latter was found on a road verge where it was highly visible. Any author who deviates from what is considered decorous and appropriate enjoys no licence - he (or she) risks being singled out and pilloried with opprobrium. Encountering rare birds is amazing, I’ll never forget coming across a grounded little auk in a public park and if I ever look out at my mum’s bird table and see a rose coloured starling I’d probably be at serious risk of cardiac arrest from excitement. You would have been at the top of the list in 1987, aside Ron Johns, if you had seen a paltry (I jest!Twitching by Numbers: twenty-four years of chasing rare birds around Britain and Ireland by Garry Bagnell is self published. In that time, you must have seen numerous changes in attitudes to how we approach birdwatching, habitat protection/creation and conservation. Re the rare birds themselves it can’t be much fun if you’re an absolutely knackered off course migrant and hundreds of people descend creating a bit of a commotion. Permits where needed for lots of RSPB reserves of which where only open a few days a week and not all year and even those RSPB reserves that didn't need advance permits, some of thos RSPB reserves onluy open a few days a week.