Southport

Meadow pipit, Southport Marine Drive

Seeing as the travel restrictions have been relaxed a little more today I decided to go over to Southport and try to catch up on some of the wintering birds I missed. It was a cold day and last night's weather forecast promised some rain at lunchtime then an afternoon of sun so I made sure to wrap up well. As it happened, it was sunny all day though the wind was nippy at times.

The rookery at Burscough Bridge is in full swing with a score or more nests, at least a dozen of which were in noisy occupation. The first addition to the year list was the small group of Shelduck in one of the fields between Bescar Lane and Meols Cop. It was by no means the last.

Greylag, Southport Marine Lake

I left the Station and walked down Marine Parade towards the seaside. There didn't seem to be a lot of social distancing on the roundabout at Silcock's Funland, something I'd notice throughout the day whenever I passed a watering hole. A scan across the marine lake took in a hundred assorted gulls — equal measures of black-headed, herring and lesser black-backs — a few tufties and Canada geese and a couple of dozen geylags.

The tide was in, which meant that most of the birds were somewhere on the salt marsh further up. Half a dozen shelduck loafed at the water's edge at the begining of the marsh.

Twite, Southport Marine Lake

I nipped across the road to see if I would be lucky and find any twites at the sailing club. My luck was in: a male was singing its head off from the top of a yacht mast. A pretty song I haven't heard before. Oddly, he was the only one there, I couldn't find any more

Blackpool, with heat haze

Moving on I found my first little egret of the year on the salt marsh. A few curlews and redshanks fed amongst a group of shelducks and there were more meadow pipits than you could shake a stick at, a feature of the whole visit. There were various shades of meadow pipits ranging from rich olive green to stone grey, one made me wonder about water pipit until it hopped up into a sea buckthorn and gave me a proper look at it.

Marshside

The road between Hesketh Road and Marshside Road was closed for roadworks, replacing the drains along the verges, which was lovely as it gave the opportunity to stop and look at bits of the Marshside reserve you can usually only safely see from a distance. I had a few minutes' sit down on the bench at the corner of Hesketh Road and added black-tailed godwit, ruff, pintail and wigeon to the year list (it's an odd year when you see more scaup and ring-necked duck than wigeon). A pair of pochard lurking amongst the teal and tufties was a surprise.

Pink-footed geese, Marshside

Distant flocks of pink-footed geese flew over into the salt marsh. It wasn't until I got to Marshside Road they started passing overhead. I have missed them, a very occasional flyover is no substitute for seeing them en masse.

Avocets, Marshside

The Sandgrounders hide at Marshside was still closed but you can look through the screen by the side. A few Canada geese were nesting and some of the black-headed gulls were preparing nesting scrapes. The avocets were pairing up but didn't seem any further towards breeding yet. Another of those stone grey meadow pipits fussed about the water's edge. A couple of the friendly regulars pointed out a wheatear on the far bank.

Golden plovers, Marshside

I walked down towards Crossens. A collection of small lumps amongst the lapwings just beyond Sandgrounders turned out to be a couple of dozen golden plovers, half of them showing off their Summer black bellies.

Pink-footed geese, Crossens Outer Marsh

There might have been a couple of hundred pink-feet on Marshside, there must have been a thousand or more far out on Crossens Outer. If there was anything with them other than the odd shelduck then distance and haze defeated my seeing it. A couple of buzzards soared in the far distance, the only raptors I saw here today. A handful of little egrets fossicked about the banks of the waterway that becomes Crossens Pool. I would have missed the great white egret had the sun not caught its beak and cast a marmalade glow in the corner of my eye.

Buzzard, Ainsdale Sand Dunes

I was pretty much for calling it a day once I got to Crossens — a five mile walk off its own bat or after a short hop on a bus or train feels less hard work than the same after an hour and a half on trains. As it happened, the Ainsdale bus was standing at the stop while the driver had five minutes to stretch his legs so on a whim I thought I'd nip over and have a go at finding the dusky warbler that's spent the Winter at Ainsdale Sand Dunes. I didn't have much hopes of it, all reports described it as tricky to see, but it was an opportunity to have a quick look at a site I haven't visited before.

I got off the bus on the Coastal Road and walked down the path into the nature reserve, giving myself the chance to get my eye in with plenty of chiffchaffs. A buzzard flew low overhead and landed in the conifers by the path where it could keep a good eye on me. I walked down to the lodge which is the rangers' HQ and had a nosy round. Woodpigeons fed amongst the rabbits and there was a comprehensive selection of woodland birds about. A couple of jays came to have a look at me, decided I wasn't interesting and moved on.

Ainsdale Sand Dunes

I found a boardwalk path and followed it round the wooded pond. Halfway along a dark warbler shot overhead and landed in the bushes on a little island in the pond, getting my hopes up. A dark shape flitted about and disappeared into the undergrowth. I moved along a bit in the hopes of catching sight again and a willow warbler hopped out and started singing. This was no disappointment, it was the first I've seen rather than heard this year. A chiffchaff emerged a bit higher up in the bush and fussed about a bit and I wondered which of them I'd seen fly over. Then I spotted another warbler a bit further back and lower down. A darker, browner bird, another chiffchaff perhaps. A chiffchaff with paler legs. A chiffchaff with a very prominent pale eyebrow that gave its face a wren-like look. I had no right to be that lucky, dusky warbler's a lifer for me. I made notes while I could for the minute or so it made itself seen. I could see why it was called tricky.

The only way the gloss could be taken off the day would be for Northern to do something peculiar with the trains. On the plus side, having to wait an hour for the next train meant the game birds were out in the open as the train chugged past so I added both red-legged and grey partridges to the year list. As the sun set I peered out into the twilight in the hopes of seeing owls or for deer but only saw odd groups of sleeping woodpigeons.