St Helens and Orrell

Tufted ducks, Taylor Park

It was a cold and frosty morning. The robin started singing at the first hint of dawn, the blackbird ran through a few practice notes and by sunrise the woodpigeon was singing in the sycamores. Not for the first time I was dubious of the welcome I should give the parakeet in the back garden.

I headed off to St Helens to see if I could add the ring-necked duck to the year list. The train to Warrington was five minutes late, which it always is unless you're running late yourself. Warrington bus station was as unlovely and unhelpful as ever with half the doors to buses not in use and no information on the screens, except in the bays that had been roped off for repairs. All one can do is wander vaguely between vantage points in the hope of seeing your bus. The only advantage it has over Piccadilly Gardens is that at least you're under cover. Arriva's 329 bus runs every half hour. After three quarters of an hour I got the little MD 329 to St Helens. It was a relief to be moving. Birdwatching by public transport involves a lot of hanging around in uncomely places.

Taylor Park 

From St Helens I got the 10a bus and was soon walking up Dunriding Road to Taylor Park. It was a bright, sunny day but cold with it and most of the lake was iced over leaving a channel of free water running most of its circumference. Consequently nearly all the ducks came close to the path whether or not anyone was throwing bird food out to them.

Mallards, Taylor Park 

Moorhen 

Mute swan and tufted duck

Black-headed gulls 

A few dozen black-headed gulls loafed on the ice when they weren't dashing over after duck food. A couple of common gulls mingled with them, the herring gulls stood to one side and didn't really settle.

Common gull 

Tufted duck

There was absolutely no problem getting very close views of the tufted ducks. The main problem was that just as you were nearly finished working through a group of them in search of the ring-necked duck they'd fly off because they'd heard the rustle of a paper bag and mallards being fed. It struck me forcibly that I'd probably not be able to pick out a ring-necked duck from a flock of tufties in flight. A lot of the drake tufties had very striking beaks with bright white bands behind the black nail at the tip but none were like the big spade-ended effort of a ring-necked duck and they all had bright white flanks and a ponytail.

Tufted duck

Tufted duck 

Tufted duck
I've been trying for ages to get a picture of this behaviour. Many's the time I've scanned a raft of tufted ducks and wondered about a light-backed bird and have it turn out to be a tuftie scratching its belly.

Tufted ducks 

Tufted duck
Not often you get to see the underside of the beak.

I spent a lot of time looking for the ring-necked duck with views like this

Tufted duck

I did a circuit of the pool without seeing the ring-necked duck, though I had a couple of false alarms with tufties diving and emerging in the shade of trees with the white flanks in shadow and wet ponytail flattened to the back of the head. I bumped into a few other people also having no luck. After an hour I started another circuit convinced, for no good reason, that the bird was out there and probably somewhere in the far corner with the trees on the bank blocking the view.

I kept coming back to a couple of sleeping beauties in this corner. One was definitely a drake tuftie. The other was probably a drake tuftie but the flanks weren't bright white, possibly it was a first-Winter bird still with some brown in the feathers. With its beak tucked into its back feathers I wasn't getting much else help with the identification. About the fourth time my eyes drifted that way a pair of tufties swam past this duck and it woke up and tagged along. It was the ring-necked duck and I'd walked past it at least twice and not clocked it. It was at the opposite end of the pool and I wanted a closer look and perhaps a photo so I walked round towards that corner. I was walking clockwise, it was swimming anticlockwise, then it dived. I lost it for a minute, didn't see where it came back up, when I found it it was swimming clockwise away from me. I turned round, walked a couple of hundred yards, the duck dived, bobbed up, swam anticlockwise. After five minutes of this I thought sod this for a game of soldiers. I noticed a couple of people with telescopes on the far bank, I hoped they were getting a better view of the bird than I was. Ironically I'd had a better view of it last Autumn when it was in the middle of the lake.

Mallard

I was in a scratchy sort of mood as I travelled back to the bus station. Missing the next bus to Wigan because I was too busy trying to find when the next bus to Wigan was due probably didn't help matters. Luckily they're very frequent. The 352 goes through Carr Mill, Billinge and Orrell and literally stops at the entrance of Orrell Water Park so I had an hour and a half's wander round.

Orrell Water Park 

The lakes were fairly quiet, a couple of dozen mallards, some tufted ducks and moorhens, a few coots and black-headed gulls. The water was open but there were a few bits of ice still drifting about in dark corners.

Greenslate Water Meadows 

A circuit of Greenslate Water Meadows had me bumping into a lot of blue tits, great tits and robins. A pair of blue tits were inspecting holes in trees and doing a lot of flirty chasing about in the willows. Chaffinches, dunnocks and moorhens were busy on the feeders. A couple of bullfinches wheezed in the trees on the field margins, nuthatches called and a song thrush sang from the trees by the brook. Walking back a flock of siskins flew into the treetops by the road and glowed in the low sun of the golden hour. I found my camera battery had run out.

Orrell Water Park 

I walked over to Orrell Station for the train to Manchester. Another song thrush sang from the opposite platform, as did a robin, a great tit and a woodpigeon while blackbirds and blue tits fidgeted about. 

It had been a scratchy, bitty sort of day but I'd seen and heard plenty of birds and got some exercise on a lovely Winter's day.

Taylor Park 

Boggart Hole Clough

Boggart Hole Clough 

I had a lunch date with an old friend in Rochdale. I was tempted to visit somewhere en route then remembered what a colossal pain in the arse the commute to Rochdale used to be, and that was back when my local train stopped at Deansgate and you could easily get the tram across the city centre. I'd have a wander round somewhere on the way back.

It was a sunny day when I set off. The robins were singing at the station, the jackdaws and magpies were canoodling and the parakeets flew in to have a squawk from the treetops before flying off to delight the primary school kids down the road.

It got greyer and mistier as the train moved North. The cloud was quite heavy as I tried to pick out the runners and riders amongst the gulls and waterfowl on the pool just after Mills Hill. The black-headed gulls and coots were conspicuous enough, the mallards lurked at the side with at least one teal.

Arriving at Rochdale I noticed there were even more carrion crows than usual around the station. There was no obvious reason other than pickings being easier in town than out during the recent cold spell. There was no sign of the peregrines on the Town Hall tower, the absence being confirmed by the line of woodpigeons on the nearby roof. A dozen black-headed gulls haunted the market; the white farm geese were by the Yorkshire Road bridge, a crowd of Canada geese were in their usual favoured spot by the bus station; and a grey wagtail skittered about the flotsam on the river.

On the way back I decided I'd get the 17 bus and call in on Boggart Hole Clough, to get a bit of exercise and walk off a very nice rag pudding if nothing else. I'd forgotten how long it takes the bus to escape Rochdale town centre and then we hit roadworks and the school run and I wondered if the walk would be worth the candle. In the event there was twenty minutes before sunset when I got off the bus and the clouds had disappeared so I had hopes of an extended twilight to finish the walk.

Boggart Hole Clough 

Robins sang and the titmice ran through their roll calls as I walked through the trees to the main path. Nuthatches, goldfinches, bullfinches and a great spotted woodpecker a called from the treetops and blackbirds muttered in bushes. There was a lot of treetop activity as jackdaws, magpies and carrion crows settled in to roost.

Walking by Boggart Hole Brook

There was a mist over Boggart Hole Brook which lent a spooky air to the comings and goings of magpies and crows. Overhead a squadron of lesser black-backs looked to be heading for the reservoir in Heaton Park. The small birds settled down into quiet until only the robins could be heard.

Boggart Hole Lake

The Canada geese on the twilit lake seemed to be drifting to sleep, the coots and moorhens were still actively feeding. A heron flew in to roost and settled in a tree which upset the pair of carrion crows already in occupation.

Heron and carrion crows 

I wandered off to Charlestown Road, got the 119 into town and went home. It had only been forty minutes' pottering about but it been a nice close of play visit.

Charlestown Road

Oglet and Widnes

Buzzard, Garston 

The day started with an astonishing assemblage of gulls on the thawed school playing ground:

• Black-headed gull 22
• Common gull 2
• Herring gull 32
• Lesser black-back 8

When I first glanced out of the kitchen window I thought there'd been a snow clearing operation and it had all been dumped on the field.

I fancied exploring somewhere new today, just to recharge my batteries. A shore lark had been seen at Oglet yesterday, I've never seen a shore lark and Oglet is on my to-do list so I headed thataway. Looking at the map I reckoned I could get the train to Liverpool South Parkway, the 82a into Garston and walk down into the coastal park and along the Mersey into Hale. Part of me thought of continuing through to Pickering Pasture and on to Widnes. There's certainly a walk to be had there but not by me and certainly not in January. Not knowing the terrain at all it might be ambitious getting to Hale. As the train passed Flixton and its frozen flooded fields and back gardens I wondered if getting to Oglet might be a bit ambitious.

Buzzatd

The train and bus did the required job and I was soon walking down Estuary Road. The paths were mostly clear, it was the crossing points that were icy. The string of pools alongside the road were all frozen. Robins, magpies and blackbirds rummaged about and a flock of goldfinches mobbed a kestrel as it flew by. A buzzard was sitting in the car park of the Argos warehouse, I'm getting used to seeing them in industrial estates.

Dropping down into the coastal reserve 

Just after the warehouse I noticed a flight of steps going down into the Speke and Garston Coastal Reserve, so I took it, disturbing two herons and a fieldfare that had been feeding by the bottom of the steps. The path at the bottom was a metalled roadway and easy walking up to the sailing club. Where the path dived into a hedgerow and became a patchy quagmire of half-frozen mud which looked worse than it really was. A mixed tit flock of equal numbers blue, great and long-tailed tits passed along the hedgerows, some of the birds coming back to have a look at me when they realised I was there and none of them up for staying still to have their photos taken. The same could be said of the blackbirds and robins, a couple of fieldfares were invisible rattles until one flew over to some trees behind the hedge.

Walking towards the airport 

I'd been hearing redshanks and curlews. The path emerged onto an icy road in open country leading to the viewing point by the fence to the John Lennon Airport. I was baffled and wondered if I'd taken the wrong turning. Luckily there were dog walkers about so I asked one of them. He'd never heard of Oglet but said there was a very muddy path at the end that followed the fence round. He emphasised that it was very muddy. He wasn't wrong, it looked better than it really was and I was doing well if I was making half speed. On the other hand I was getting increasingly good views of the near bank of the Mersey through the trees and started to see dozens of redshanks and a few curlews. 

Grey plover

The tide was on the ebb and the waders were impatient to get feeding. Here and there they'd be joined by small groups of dozing mallards. A couple of bar-tailed godwits mingled with a crowd of redshanks along one stretch of mud, a grey plover worked alone, a pair of oystercatchers flew down the river. I'd walked about a mile upstream when I started seeing groups of dunlin at the water's edge and a flock of about eighty teal loafed and whistled on the mud by a low grassy bank.

Teal, mallards and heron

The path slipped through some trees and into farmland. The paths along the field margins were mostly a good deal more reliable than the ones I'd been walking so far. This is where the shore lark had been seen the day before. I could hear skylarks but couldn't see them so I didn't hold out much hope for the shore lark. All the action on the first ploughed field was over the rise of the field on the other side: every so often a small flock of lapwings rose and settled back again, every so often a woodpigeon or jackdaw and, finally, the briefest glimpse of a flock of about forty skylarks which disappeared over the brow as soon as I realised what they were. The next field was quieter, just half a dozen carrion crows rummaging about. I bumped into a lady who told me this was the field where her friend had found the shore lark, she was only seeing skylarks about today.

Looking over the Mersey to Stanlow 

The next couple of fields hadn't been ploughed. There were more carrion crows and woodpigeons and half a dozen pheasants. Something floated up out of the long grass by a hedge and disappeared through it. "That was a short-eared owl," I told myself. Try as I might I couldn't pick the bird up again to confirm it was an owl. I gave myself a stern telling off for getting giddy and carried on my way. I passed a gent who was going after the shore lark, I wished him better luck than I'd had.

I made a bit of a muck of the connection between the path and Oglet Lane but I got onto it and walked down to Hale Lane. If I make a repeat visit I'll get the 82a to Bailey's Lane and walk down this way. I was waiting for a gap in the traffic to cross Hale Road when the bus arrived. The driver took pity on me and I was on my way to Widnes.

Little egret, West Bank

The 82a passes West Bank on its way through Widnes to Runcorn, which was convenient as there were reports over the weekend of an adult Kumlein's gull on the river there by the bridges. I got off the bus and walked through the subway and under the railway viaduct onto the West Docklands Park and scanned the river. There was a crowd of unidentifiable large gulls on the mud banks across the river. Closer by it was all black-headed gulls. A little egret and some redshanks fossicked about by the near bank. I reckon I ought to be able to recognise an adult Kumlein's gull unaided but if it was out there it was a job for a telescope and a lot of patience. Perhaps I'd have more luck on the other side of the bridge.

Mallards, black-headed gulls, common gulls and lesser black-backs 

I walked under the bridge and onto the old transport bridge wharf where crowds of gulls were finding what they could on the newly-emerged mud. Most were black-headed gulls with a few lesser black-backs and common gulls, nearly all the herring gulls were loafing on the mud banks with a few great black-backs and cormorants. It was good to see a variety of ages of common gull, we generally only get adults round our way so I appreciated the chance to get my eye in on first- and second-Winter birds. I'd written off my chances of seeing a Kumlein's gull but was happy enough with the consolation prize of a first-Winter Caspian gull standing tall over a group of herring gulls.

Mallards and black-headed gulls

Lesser black-back, common gull and mallard

I walked round to Spike Island in the fading light. I thought it would be nice if the usual ruddy shelduck were around to be added to the year list. I was staggered when there it was the moment I turned the corner.

Shelducks and ruddy shelduck, Spike Island 

I headed for the bus stop to get the 110 to Warrington and thence home. I went onto Birdguides to pass on the records of the Caspian gull and the ruddy shelduck and noticed a report of a short-eared owl at Oglet. Judging at the time it was submitted the chap I'd been talking to must have seen it just after we'd spoken. I made myself give myself an apology.

Gulls and carrion crows, West Bank

Local patch

Lostock Park 

It was a warmer night and the thaw started in earnest though there were still treacherous patches of ice lurking underfoot for the unwary, particularly in the shade of cars parked on the pavement. I had a quick wander round the local patch to see what was about.

Barton Clough 

The park was, naturally, busy on a Sunday afternoon but there were still more birds about than I was expecting. The small flock of redwings in the trees were very fidgety and it was difficult to get an accurate count of them. The robins were being very quiet, I suspect most of them were in deep cover or else in the gardens by the park where the snowbound pickings would be easier. A small flock of goldfinches was a relief, it was good to see the first greenfinches of the year in the hawthorns and a great spotted woodpecker made a cameo appearance.

• Blackbird 6 
• Blue tit 1
• Carrion crow 5
• Feral pigeon 4 overhead
• Goldfinch 8
• Great spotted woodpecker 1
• Great tit 4
• Greenfinch 2
• Herring gull 1 overhead
• Lesser black-back 3 overhead 
• Magpie 16
• Redwing 5
• Robin 1
• Starling 3
• Woodpigeon 3

Barton Clough 

Morecambe Bay

Oystercatcher, Morecambe 

It had been another bitterly cold night but I thought I'd best get some work done on the year list. I got myself an old man's explorer ticket and headed North. I decided the pair of grey wagtails flitting about Oxford Road Station was a good omen. Ditto the profusion of magpies, woodpigeons and black-headed gulls lining the trackside up to Preston. Things were quieter between Preston and Carnforth, I was mostly counting carrion crows and occasional flocks of black-headed gulls.

Carnforth was busy with jackdaws, herring gulls and pigeons as I waited for the 555 bus. The railway station bus stop is obviously good pickings judging by the robin that lurked around the shelter and the house sparrows sitting in the hedge nearby.

Pine Lake 

The roads and pavements were ice-free so I could have walked up to Pine Lake. I'm glad I didn't, it was perishing cold and cloudy with it. My concern that the lake would be frozen over was justified at first sight as I got off the bus. Luckily a short walk further along into the chalets brought the unfrozen half of the lake into view. Robins and blackbirds rummaged around the chalets, coal tits, goldfinches and siskins bounced about in the treetops, it was picturesquely wintery.

Looking out over the lake the mute swans by the far bank were the most conspicuous birds at first, the Canada geese and mallards with them blending into the dark of the bankside. Black-headed gulls started to make themselves known and small rafts of tufted ducks and goldeneyes could be seen in the gaps between the chalets.

Gadwalls and coots

Herring gull, tufted ducks and coots 

Black-headed gulls, common gull, tufted ducks, coots and pochards

At last I got to the open area and had a proper scan round. There were common gulls with the hundred or so black-headed gulls, the herring gulls loafed on the ice with a couple of lesser black-backs and a brute of a great black-back. Most of the wildfowl were distant: rafts of mallards, shovelers and tufted ducks, a distant but very vocal raft of a hundred or more wigeon and smaller groups of gadwalls and pochards. A great crested grebe drifting on its own caught my eye, as did the group of cormorants drying their wings in the far corner. I could hear teal underneath the whistling of the wigeons but I was blowed if I could see them.

I couldn't see any sign of a diver for ages. I was scanning the Canada geese and mute swans on the far bank, just in case any other geese were hiding in there, when I saw a shape slip underwater in the corner of my eye. A few moments later a diver bobbed up and lay low in the water for half a minute before diving again. The size of the bird and the smudgy dark and light greyness of it identified it as a juvenile great northern diver. Red-throated divers are quite dainty in comparison, black-throated divers much more contrasty. (I'd already ruled out any other divers but just for the record: a Pacific diver would be more contrasty and a white-billed diver would have a bigger beak.)

Walking back for the bus I passed a couple of bullfinches rummaging around in the shrubs by the play area. Dozens more wigeon whistled as they flew in to the lake.

The next bus was for Lancaster and due in a couple of minutes, which saved my being tempted to get the bus to Kendal and the rail replacement bus back to Lancaster. At Lancaster the next Northern train was for Morecambe so off I went to the seaside.

Morecambe Bay 

Morecambe Bay was bleak and beautiful. The tide was out, leaving expanses of mud peppered with redshanks, oystercatchers and herring gulls. A couple of groups of knots foraged in the weedy mud near the groyne, three sanderlings skittered across the mud just beyond with a couple of curlews. I'd just managed to convince myself that the little dark shape swimming along a channel was a redshank when it dived. It took a while to pick the bird up when it bobbed back up a long way along but at least it was now close enough to confirm as a dabchick. I'm always thrown when I see dabchicks at the seaside, no idea why as there's no reason why they shouldn't be there especially as most inland water's going to be frozen.

Redshank 

Herring gull, oystercatcher and eiders

Eiders

I didn't have any luck finding any turnstones until I'd walked to the end of Trafalgar Point. There was just the one underneath the jetty. Three eiders swam fairly close by, a raft of a few dozen of them was loafing off the beach a few hundred yards further along. I walked back and made my pilgrimage to the Eric Morecambe statue where starlings and house sparrows fussed around its feet. Someone had knitted him a scarf.

Eric Morecambe 

The big problem with getting the train from Morecambe is that it arrives at Lancaster just as the Manchester Airport train sets off. We have our noses rubbed in it along the way as the Morecambe train has to wait at signals for two minutes to allow the Manchester train through. I got a cup of tea and waited the fifty minutes for the next train and didn't care because it had been a good day's birdwatching.

Morecambe Bay