Home thoughts

It had been another wild and windy, though not so wet, night followed by a wild and windy morning. The sun poked out every so often for all of two minutes to trick the unwary into walking into a sleet shower. 

The gulls on the field ran to form: twenty-three black-headed gulls with a couple of common gulls today and a few herring gulls and lesser black-backs flying high overhead. 

The garden was deceptively quiet except when the starlings flew in to hammer the fat blocks. The sleet showers turned to hail and the sparrows retreated into the ivies on the embankment and the squirrels to the conifers. It didn't look awfully promising out there.

A bruising nip down to the shop for a loaf convinced me that it wasn't a day for a walk. I felt like I'd done a few hours' hillwalking. Hatches duly battened we'll see what the week brings.

Solstice

Herring gull

At two o'clock in the morning I was weighing up the options for the shortest day. At nine o'clock I was watching the pouring rain and leaden sky and deciding that it would be no bad thing to spend the day drinking rather a lot of tea. The sun making a two minute cameo appearance at lunchtime didn't make a right lot of difference and it soon started raining again.

The wind and rain brought the gulls back to the school playing field, restoring a natural balance in the scheme of things I thought had been abandoned. By historical standards the twenty-six black-headed gulls was small beer, before the avian flu ran through the nesting colonies I'd have been expecting three figures in this weather. There were a dozen large gulls, the herring gulls outnumbering the lesser black-backs two to one, which is par for the course here in Winter. Most of the herring gulls were first-Winter birds with just a couple of adults and a third-Winter (I think) bird, there were a couple of first-Winter lesser black-backs with the adults. I'm pretty sure most of the large gulls are just passing by and taking advantage of the amenities, it's not often I see the same combination of birds two days running. I expect there's a reason why there's not many birds of intermediate ages coming through but I'd only be guessing. The black-headed gulls, like the rooks, jackdaws and woodpigeons, seems to be more or less settled for the Winter, there isn't the same sort of churn in the numbers.

It was quiet in the garden, a few sparrows set up camp in the rose bushes and made raids on the feeders whenever the rain abated. The highlight was when half a dozen starlings turned up, made a lot of noise and flew off again.

I nipped out to get the last of the Christmas food shop done and just missed the 25 which turned up early for once. I had a wander round a wet and windy Lostock Park while I waited for the next bus. Plenty of gulls passed overhead — more lesser black-backs than herring gulls and almost as many black-headed gulls — but didn't stop. There were a lot more blackbirds about than last time, despite the weather. All the small birds stayed undercover.

It'll be good to get back onto the roll-up to Summer.

Southport

Dunlins and knots

It was a bright, cool and sunny morning so I headed off to Southport to see if I could find the snow bunting and twites by the pier then wander down to Marshside and Crossens.

The train journey was uneventful, which on this line is an event unto itself. There were plenty of woodpigeons, magpies and carrion crows along the line as we passed. The land west of Wigan still showed signs of flood, with many large pools of water on the fields and most land drains brim full. The lake at Pemberton Park lapped over the path by its side and here and there merged with the canal, the coots and mallards keeping to the side by the railway. The fields by the water treatment works outside Parbold had big flocks of black-headed gulls and herring gulls littered about them.

I was taken by surprise on the approach to Bescar Lane with three cattle egrets feeding with horses in a field by the track. The little egret at the station was an interesting station tick. Further on the land drains were busy with mallards and teals 

Mute swan 

Moorhen

Arriving in Southport I wandered down to the King's Gardens to check out the marine lake and then past Pleasureland to the beach. It was ferociously windy, a cold, gusty wind blowing in straight from the sea. The mute swans and coots loafed on the banks and the mallards and gadwalls kept to the water in the lee of the wind near the Venetian Bridge. Even the greylags clustered at the sheltered end of the lake near Pleasureland.

I walked across Prince's Park which was carpeted with herring gulls, black-headed gulls and oystercatchers. I hadn't realised just how much shelter was being provided by the leisure complex until I turned the corner onto Marine Drive and was nearly bowled over.

Most of the waders were keeping behind shelter.
Mostly dunlins and knots

I crossed the road and braced myself against the wall to scan the beach. There were hundreds of waders out there, most of them huddled behind tussocks of grass or any other available cover. It would have been a challenging identification task even without the wind buffeting the binoculars about. Nearly all the waders were facing into the wind with their beaks tucked into their back feathers, presenting an array of rear ends of small pear-shaped objects. Most were dunlins, their lines punctuated by knots. I found a handful of ringed plovers, distinguishable by the uniform brown of their upperparts, and a couple of grey plovers hunkered down in mid-distance. 

Southport Pier 

I walked along the seawall, wearing my mask to make it easier to breathe in the face of the wind. I couldn't see any redshanks or curlews despite their calls carrying in the wind. Nor could I find the snow bunting. I expect it had found some cover, there wasn't any incentive for it to be out in the open while dogs were having their lunchtime walks as last week's storm had scoured most of the debris from the base of the sea wall.

The redshanks and curlews were on the marsh to the North of the pier. The curlews loafed with shelducks on the edge of the marsh, the redshanks kept to the cover of the marsh, only emerging to cross between patches of grass. If twites were about on the marsh they'd be around here but I wasn't seeing anything smaller than a redshank. Given how easily the redshanks were disappearing into cover I wasn't surprised I wasn't seeing any small birds in there. Even the usual crowd of starlings around The Guelder Rose was missing. A little egret hunched low in the hollow by the marine lake overflow and I couldn't blame it. On the pavement in front of me a pied wagtail was careful not to move too far from the shelter of the wall. A handful of pink-footed geese flew in and immediately disappeared into the tall grass on the salt marsh.

If the twites weren't visible, or weren't there, on the marsh they might be hanging round the sailing club. It wouldn't be the first time they've done that. Besides, I fancied the shelter of the dunes, my face felt like somebody had been slapping my sinuses with a paving slab. I crossed the road and walked down. A few mute swans and Canada geese bobbed about on the marine lake by the road, I couldn't see anything on the island. Nor could I find anything at the sailing club.

Southport Marine Lake 

I walked round the lake and headed for Southport Links. A huge crowd of mute swans and herring gulls sat on the jetties on the far side, leaving not much room for a couple of guys with sailboards. Out on the water there were a few cormorants, a couple of dabchicks and a couple of great crested grebes, all of them tricky to see in the choppy water.

I walked over to Hesketh Park for the bus to Marshside, I didn't have the energy to walk there against the wind along Marine Drive. I popped into the park for a quick look, the pond heaving with mallards and tufted ducks and the hedgerows busy with titmice.

I then spoilt an excellent day's birdwatching by going to Marshside.

I got the 44 bus to Marshside Road. The school playing field at the end was peppered with huge molehills and crowds of woodpigeons, starlings and moorhens manoeuvred their way around them with a couple of curlews.

Marshside Road 

Hawthorn hedgerow 

I was dismayed to see that the last remnants of the hawthorn hedgerows had been removed along both sides of Marshside Road, removing the last of the cover used by the house sparrows, linnets and goldfinches and leaving the little group of bushes down at the corner as the last possible refuge for whitethroats. When I first started visiting here there were three whitethroats singing down this road, last year there was just the one at the corner, flitting from one side of the road to the other. I wonder if there'll be one next year. I don't actually see the purpose of removing the hawthorns, there was no question of their drying out the marsh at all. Perhaps conservationists do hate scrub after all, and all the wildlife that depends on it. The spindle trees and Duke of Argyle's tea trees have gone from the banks by Marine Drive and the dewberries neatly strimmed. It was no consolation to see a stand of Japanese knotweed left unmolested.

Teal, pintails and wigeon, Marshside 

On the right side of the road most of the dry, grassy marsh was deserted. A dozen greylags and half a dozen pink-footed geese grazed by the bund at the back.

From Junction Pool 

Across the road, the flooded marsh was carpeted by hundreds of lapwings, starlings, wigeon and teal and scores of black-tailed godwits, mallards and Canada geese. On the Junction Pool a mixed flock of teal, pintails and wigeon dozed while shovelers, mallards and tufted ducks were busy feeding by the reeds.

Marshside 

It was very quiet along the way to Sandgrounders and it soon became apparent why: a work team was busy chopping down the bushes on the banks. I stayed at Sandgrounders for a minute and that only because I was hoping the spoonbill that's been around might be feeding on Polly's Pool. Of course it wasn't.

The path along the inner marsh was blocked by machinery, I asked myself if I wanted to walk down to Crossens Marsh along the outer path. I decided to jack it in. I was too depressed to be bothered with it. Which turned out to be just as well as I got a 'phone call asking me to lend someone a hand with something back home.

The journey back home worked to timetable as well, the first time both legs have delivered as scheduled in months. I think on my next visit to Marshside I'll give Marshside Road and Marine Drive a miss and walk along the bund to Crossens Marsh, it'll be less dispiriting.

Hindley

Willow tit, Amberswood 

The timetables for the 126 and 132 are a bit funny lately so when I headed for the Trafford Centre it was for either a walk round Pennington Flash or Amberswood. The 132 turned up within minutes of my arrival (I'd been expecting a half hour wait for one or other) so Amberswood it was.

I decided I'd stay on to the Gregory Street stop on Wigan Road to walk straight into Amberswood and then go over to Low Hall and into Platt Bridge and get the 609 to Leigh for the 126 home. It was a grey and blustery day and I was glad I wasn't fighting the wind by Pennington Flash.

Amberswood 

It was lunchtime and there were plenty of dogs and their walkers about, all friendly. It's a fundamental rule of nature that if I get talking to a dog walker on a path on Amberswood a mixed tit flock will cavort about in the bushes behind my collocutor and willow tits call behind my back. And so it came to pass. The minute the conversation finished the birds vanished into the gorse bushes and didn't come back out until I was twenty yards down the lane. The robins and blackbirds were more cooperative. The great spotted woodpecker objecting to my coming to the fork in the path took ages to find.

Coal tit and great tit, Amberswood 

At the corner of the lake another mixed tit flock was busy at the feeders hanging in a willow tree. It was refreshing to see three willow tits in one tree and I spent some time trying to get photos of them in the dismal light. Great tits, blue tits and coal tits bustled about; chaffinches and reed buntings tidied up any spillage. 

An uncooperative willow tit, Amberswood 

The goldfinches I kept hearing weren't coming to the feeders. About twenty of them were flitting about in the tops of the alders with a dozen siskins and at least one redpoll. Every couple of minutes the whole flock took off, flew a large circle then landed two or three trees further along, which made picking out all the runners and riders a lot more work than it could have been.

Amberswood Lake 

Out on the lake a raft of a couple of dozen black-headed gulls and a common gull bathed and preened with a solitary great crested grebe. Coots and moorhens fussed about, a single male tufted duck dozed in a corner and the usual mute swans and mallards lurked by the far bank ready to look decorative for tiny tots with bags of food. A kestrel flew in and hovered over the grass bank before heading off for Platt Bridge.

Low Hall 

It was drizzling as I crossed the road to Low Hall. A few blackbirds lumbered about under the trees and a couple of robins sang but the wooded areas were generally quiet. A dozen drake teals whistled by the reedbed on the pool while pairs of mallards and gadwall cruised about in between the coots and mute swans.

I took the path to the old railway line and into Platt Bridge for the bus to Leigh. A dozen black-headed gulls perched on the lampposts by the bus stop as I waited. I entertained the idea of stopping off along the way for a walk through Bickershaw Country Park but realistically I'd only have had twenty minutes of daylight to play with. Less than that, in fact: as the bus got into Abram and took the turn for Bickershaw the sky went dark and it started pouring down. I'd had a much-needed bit of exercise, had a couple of chats with folk and seen more than my usual quota of willow tits so I had nothing to complain about.

Cob Kiln Wood

Cob Kiln Wood 

It was another dull grey day. I didn't fancy doing much so I had a potter about in Cob Kiln Wood.

Along the way as I passed Humphrey Park Allotments I bumped into a mixed tit flock working its way through the trees along the fence. The blue tits and great tits moved silently but the long-tailed tits were very vocal as they bounced about and flew over to check me out before flitting back and fiddling their way through some fruit bushes. I hadn't gone far before a lot of twittering betrayed the presence of a charm of goldfinches at the top of a tall, old roadside alder. As I was watching them a flock of three dozen starlings flew in to roost in the trees on the other side of the allotments. Flying in to roost and the school run not yet started.

The bridge over Old Eeas Brook and into Cob Kiln Wood 

A couple of robins were singing on Torbay Road as I walked into Cob Kiln Wood. A small mixed tit flock moved through the dogwoods and hawthorns, no long-tailed tits as far as I could tell, only blue tits and great tits. A couple of herring gulls circled the wood at treetop height, calling raucously, before eventually drifting off to join the lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls heading off to roost on Sale Water Park. I've no idea what that was about.

The pond's been tidied up a bit

There's been some more clearance and tidying up and there's been some pond restoration. There's still plenty of bramble cover in the hedgerows so my misgivings about tidying up efforts weren't overwhelming.

There were a couple of dozen woodpigeons feeding in the field by the pond and at least one pheasant running about the far margins.

The clearing

Blackbirds rummaged about in the bushes in the electricity pylon clearing and chaffinches called in the trees. The other small bird sounds were dried leaves rustling or falling to the ground in the freshening breeze. Every so often there'd be the clatter of woodpigeons leaving or carrion crows arriving in the treetops.

River Mersey 

I had a quick look at the river, just for form's sake. As I got to the bridge three mallards flew upriver, other than that there was nothing, not even the usual pigeons on the road bridge. The river was still in spate despite its being more than a week since the storm.

Cob Kiln Lane 

I walked back and into Urmston along Cob Kiln Lane to the accompaniment of clattering woodpigeons in the treetops and scolding wrens in the hedgerow. A couple of little egrets were feeding in the paddock by the lane, closely following the hoofprints of one of the horses. They were bent down in a humpty back fashion and for a moment I wondered if they might be cattle egrets come back for the Christmas season but they didn't have the stumpy rear end of a cattle egret and when they eventually straightened up they were very obviously little egrets. A couple of lady dog walkers asked what I was looking at so I lent them my binoculars to look at the egrets. Not something I could imagine round here twenty years ago.

Sunset

The sun was low as I walked into Urmston and the parakeets were making a racket as they went to roost in the cemetery. I went and got a bit of sausage for my tea and went home.

A day out

Teal, Leighton Moss 

It promised to be a fitfully sunny day but I was feeling a bit delicate (whatever it was it was doubtless my own fault) so I got me an old man's explorer ticket with a view to heading up to Ulverston to check out the Morecambe Bay estuaries en route then spend a couple of hours at Leighton Moss. I know, I know, it's Monday, it's Northern, the narrative writes itself. 

The plan was: get the next train to Preston, which happened to be the Blackpool train, have a potter about then get the next Barrow train. The Blackpool train was quarter of an hour late then broke down at Bolton. By the time they gave up on resuscitating the train the next one to Blackpool was due. I let it go, there was only ten minutes to wait for the Barrow train. This turned out to be a tactical error: there was loads of space on the Blackpool train, the Barrow train was jam-packed with people going from the Airport to Preston to catch the train to Scotland. And I went on to Barrow rather than get off at Ulverston because the next train back to Silverdale was cancelled.

Anyway…

It was a fitfully sunny day, once every so often it shone through a hole in the thick cloud. The trackside was busy with magpies, carrion crows and woodpigeons. The lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls of Greater Manchester gave way to the herring gulls of Lancashire. There were a lot of black-headed gulls on the pools at the coastal hides near Leighton Moss, together with fifty-plus lapwings.

It was a very high tide. A dozen black-headed gulls clustered by the viaduct over the Kent at Arnside. The salt marshes between Meathop and Kents Bank were liberally peppered with little egrets, the tide was too high for the usual cluster of gulls at Grange-over-Sands. Moving inland towards Cark small groups of curlews fed in the fields with the jackdaws and crows. A few shelducks pottered about the salt marsh before the Leven Estuary with over a hundred pink-footed geese. I thought I was going to be unlucky with eiders on the Leven with the tide being so high but a small flock bobbed about on the far side beside a tightly-packed flock of redshanks. A buzzard sitting in a trackside hawthorn just past Ulverston added to the day's tally.

Herring gulls, Barrow

Barrow was awash with herring gulls. I had forty minutes to wait for the train back so I had a putter round and got myself a cup of tea. Other times of the year I'd have taken the opportunity of going up the Irish Sea coast or having a walk round Cavendish Dock before going back to Leighton Moss but there aren't enough hours in a December day for exploring Cumbria on a day out.

Leven Estuary from the train

On the way back I noticed that the tide was starting to go out. There wasn't much of an effect on the Leven Estuary. I was travelling on the inland side of the train and couldn't see any ducks at all. A curlew, a little egret and some redshanks pottered about in the creeks. There was a large flock of mallards with the mute swans on the pool by the railway a little further down and teals lurked in small groups in the drains. There were more curlews in the fields around Cark, with flocks of jackdaws and woodpigeons. 

Arnside from the train

The pond in the park at Grange-over-Sands was heaving with black-headed gulls and mallards. They might have fitted in better with the golfers wearing wellingtons on the flooded greens further along. There's an egret roost in the trees on the side of the hilly outcrop next to the River Winster. I sometimes see little egrets here as the train passes by. Today there were also three great white egrets. I can't remember seeing great white egrets at roost before. As the train joined the viaduct over the Kent Estuary it disturbed a flock of a few dozen teal and a red-breasted merganser. A few sandbars had been exposed by the retreating tide and the flocks of mallards and redshanks resting on them sat right as the train rolled by.

Leighton Moss 

I had just under an hour at Leighton Moss before the next train, the last one going through to Manchester for a few hours. I decided just to have a look at the Hideout and Lilian's Hide and see what was doing in the trees around the visitor centre. A great spotted woodpecker called in the trees across the road from the station and a flock of fieldfares heading for the woods above the village as I walked round the corner to the reserve.

Chaffinch, Leighton Moss 

The Hideout was busy with small birds getting their suppers before a long night and squirrels and moorhens tidying up under the feeders. Most of the small birds were chaffinches and goldfinches, I knew there were greenfinches about because I could hear them but none came to the feeders. A few blue tits flew in and had command of the sunflower seeds for a moment before giving way to a great tit which was then fussed off by goldfinches. Goldfinches don't often peck at other species but they make such a fuss that most can't be doing with it and give up. While this was going on a marsh tit slipped in a couple of times to get a sunflower seed and take it back to cover.

I walked down to Lilian's Hide, scanning the field on the other side of the wall just in case I could add green woodpecker to the year list (I couldn't). Probably the same marsh tit sneezed at me from the undergrowth and a water rail squealed from the reed margins.

The pool at Lilian's Hide was covered in waterfowl.

Mallards, Leighton Moss 

There were about fifty teal on the pool, most dabbling or dozing by the water's edge by the hide. A few dozen mallards loafed about, as did a similar number of shovelers. There were about fifty pintails, most of them out in midwater with the coots and greylags. The tufted ducks, gadwalls and dabchicks rather got lost in the crowd. A marsh harrier drifted low over the reedbeds over by the causeway, flushing half a dozen teal out of cover but not paying any attention to them. It wasn't until I was packing up to move on I spotted the snipe feeding at the water's edge by some teal.

Shoveler, Leighton Moss 
There's something remarkably moth-eaten about first-Winter drake shovelers.

Shovelers, and a pintail, Leighton Moss 

Teal, Leighton Moss 

Greylags, pintails and coots, Leighton Moss 

Pintail and shoveler, Leighton Moss 

Goldfinches and siskins bounced about in the tops of the alders by the path, the latter easier to hear than to see. I was tempted to wander over to the causeway then noticed I had ten minutes for the train so I headed back. I had one last look at the hideout and added a coal tit to the day's tally then went for the train.

Silverdale Station 

The journey back was mercifully uneventful. There wasn't so much a sunset as a slow fade to dove grey and primrose yellow clouds. A livid vermilion slash lit up the horizon as we passed through Bay Horse. I spent the next half hour straining my eyes in the hopes of seeing owls and seeing the last of the jackdaws and magpies going to roost. By Golborne the trees were silhouetted against a darkening grey sky and the last magpie of the day settled into a tree by a floodlit works yard.

Wellacre Country Park

Wellacre Wood 

It was a bright, sunny morning so the moment I stepped out of the door the clouds rolled in and twilight descended at lunchtime.

I got the 256 into Flixton and walked into Wellacre Wood. For all the largely dry weather this week it was muddy underfoot, it's not really been drying weather after last weekend's shocker. Robins sang, goldfinches twittered in the treetops, blackbirds rummaged about in the brambles and woodpigeons and parakeets settled down to roost in the trees by the school.

Wellacre Wood 

Wellacre Country Park 

The horses were all in the field by Jack Lane. Actually, they were all in one corner watching a girl trying to persuade her pony to come to bridle. In the end she went to the pony which accepted the bridle readily enough but wasn't for moving once it was on. A couple of magpies joined the spectators. The other fields were carpeted with dozens of woodpigeons.

Jack Lane 

Jack Lane nature reserve was dead quiet but there were plenty of birds about. A mixed tit flock silently passed through the hawthorns by the path and suddenly disappeared the moment they reached a patch of ivy on a tree. A dozen or more woodpigeons settled in to roost in the high hedgerow over by the lane and a similar number of magpies quietly settled in the trees by the far corner. A small flock of chaffinches flew in and immediately disappeared into the hedgerow with the woodpigeons. Oddly, there wasn't a sign of any waterbirds.

Dutton's Pond 

It got gloomier as I walked to Dutton's Pond. Robins and wrens sang in the trees, woodpigeons and parakeets flew to roost. I realised I hadn't seen any gulls passing overhead. Dutton's Pond had already shut up shop for the night, the moorhens muttering to themselves in the reeds.

I listened to the songs of robins and chatter of magpies on Fly Ash Hill and headed off for the train home. It had been an oddly quiet walk round.