Martin Mere

Whooper swan

Martin Mere's been back to allowing spontaneous visits for a week now so I thought it was time I went along.

I was in a surly mood all day, partly because of a bad night's sleep, partly because of the journey: the train to Wigan (the Manchester Airport to Barrow train) was twice as busy as usual so I had to perch uncomfortably amongst a mass of unmasked pensioners and students (the two demographics that have most allowed themselves to be convinced that once they're vaccinated the pandemic is over). The weather didn't lift my spirits any, being heavy gloom punctuated by leaden cloud.

Anyway…

I got off at New Lane and decided to take the long route to Martin Mere via the paths I've been using to walk around it this past eighteen months. A flock of a couple of dozen house martins wheeled over the station and drifted over to the water treatment works, followed soon after by a few swallows. The hedges were quiet, just a couple of dunnocks and robins and a chiffchaff, but there were lots of woodpigeons in the fields and flying overhead.

Sunflowers, New Lane

Despite the very unpromising weather, common hawkers patrolled the tops of a patch of dwarf sunflowers by the path.

The walk over the railway and over to the margins of Martin Mere was quiet save for the calls of greylag geese on the mere. The great tits, robins and wrens busy in the hedgerows were quiet but a Cetti's warbler singing from the reedbed gave a good account of itself.

A heron took exception to a marsh harrier that floated over the reedbeds. The two danced around together for a minute or so and were joined by a couple of lapwings before the harrier drifted off beyond the mere.

There were still speckled woods and red admirals on the brambles and both common and migratory hawkers patrolling the reedbed margins.

It was almost business as usual at Martin Mere, though they've changed the layout of the entrance to allow more space for social distancing. 

A bank vole running along the path in front of me shows how few visitors to the hides there have been lately.

A look at the mere from the Discovery Hide showed where all the noise was coming from: the water was covered in greylags and Canada geese, almost to the exclusion of anything else, and the islands littered with lapwings. A few lapwings shared the nesting rafts with a dozen cormorants. Half a dozen snipe flew in, saw the crowds, flew around looking for a bit of space and flew back whence they came. A redshank was luckier finding a place among the lapwings. A few mallards and teal lurked around the margins while half a dozen tufties and a female pochard stuck to the far side of the mere. 

I had a quick dekko at the Hale Hide, which is sometimes very good for waders such as green sandpipers. I gave up quickly, I couldn't see the pool for herbage.

Walking down from the Kingfisher Hide

The Kingfisher Hide was disappointing, too: the pools had dried completely.

Ruffs, teal and black-headed gulls at a distance in the gloom

The scene at the Ron Barker Hide was rather better. The water was very low on the left-hand pool, which seemed to suit the waders very well. Scores of lapwings loafed in the centre of the pool while a dozen ruffs fossicked round the reed margins on the far side in the company of a couple of dozen teal. 

Not for the first time I wished that ruff came in one standard size, especially in this light at that distance. One bird in particular puzzled me: not quite right to be a small reeve and with bright golden braces over its scapulars. My thoughts drifted to little stint but this was far too big. Eventually it turned round and revealed itself to be a snipe. The three whooper swans rummaging about in the tall grass — two adults and a yearling — were considerably easier to identify. 

Lapwings

Another marsh harrier floated by over the fields behind the reeds. The lapwings paid no heed but did rise up in a panic when a skein of pink-footed geese, my first of the Autumn, came in low, wheeled round and headed over towards the windmill farm.

Woodpigeon having a bath

I retraced my steps, stopping for a vain attempt at finding a tawny owl in the ivy-covered trees at the corner of the path. I'd been hearing tree sparrows but not seeing any so it came as a relief to find a small flock feeding by the Raines Observatory.

I had a look at the mere through the screens where the late, lamented Swan Link Hide used to be. The only change was that all the geese were over on one side because some of the reserve staff were working in front of the Discovery Hide.

Plenty of small birds on the feeders at the Janet Kear Hide, mostly greenfinches, goldfinches and chaffinches. 

Absence hasn't made my heart any fonder of the Harrier Hide. The geese displaced from the mere crowded out even the mute swans.

Tarlsclough Lane

I got myself the pot of tea that it turns out my body was screaming for then headed off towards Burscough Bridge for the train home. It was late afternoon by now though the weather made it seem rather a lot later. There were plenty of woodpigeons, carrion crows and rooks kicking about and a buzzard flew off low over the potato fields to its roost.

I hadn't been in the mood for this walk (again, this is getting to be a habit lately) but it had been very productive and the exercise is always useful.