Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit, Martin Mere

About the only upside to being woken up at silly o'clock by the hairy hooligan I live with was hearing a Mediterranean gull flying overhead, a new home tick. The weather looked dodgy and I didn't want to do anything overly demanding so I headed over to Martin Mere, the thinking being that if the worst came to the worst I could find a quiet corner in one of the hides to have a doze through the rainstorms.

It was a grey sort of day when I got off the train at New Lane and the wind was fresher than it had been when I left home. Small flocks of starlings commuted between the sewage works and the houses and a large flock of woodpigeons were feeding in the abandoned field of leeks by the station. There was only a dozen or so black-headed gulls on the sewage works, one of the signs of Spring.

I walked down to the railway crossing that leads to the reedbed walk at Martin Mere. The flocks of chaffinches in the cabbage fields included a few bramblings and linnets and a few stock doves accompanied another flock of woodpigeons rummaging around in some set aside. 

Little egret, New Lane

As I approached the crossing the plastic carrier bag swaying in the breeze on the path ahead turned out to be a little egret. When I first set out on this game the idea of a little egret casually walking about by a random field of cabbages in Lancashire would have been laughable. As I was looking at it a movement caught my eye. There was a flock of stock doves in the field just beyond. Something (not me, honest!) spooked them and they rose and swirled around a few times before settling back again. I've never seen a flock of more than a dozen stock doves before and here was more than a hundred. They carried on feeding as I passed though the egret flew off into the next field.

Stock doves, New Lane

Stock dove, New Lane

Stock doves, New Lane

Walking towards the Reedbed Walk

I crossed the line and walked down towards Martin Mere. The wind was getting stronger and it became hard to spot where the songs of skylarks were drifting in from. A couple of meadow pipits and three whooper swans were easier to spot. As was what turned out to be the only marsh harrier of the day.

I joined the path by the Reedbed Walk and bumped into a pheasant and a Cetti's warbler almost immediately. There was a lot of chatter from the copse by the path. It's frustrating when you can hear dozens of small birds but can only find a handful. Eventually the linnets and goldfinches took pity on me and flew up into plain view in the treetops. The chaffinches were harder work and the tree sparrows very nearly impossible. It came as a bit of a relief a bit further down the path where a flock of reed buntings were flitting between the hedgerows. As I weighed up the subtle variations in the plumage of the individual birds it struck me, not for the first time, that if I ever bumped into a rare bunting that wasn't in bird guide perfect male plumage I'd be stumped.

Reed bunting, Martin Mere

A chiffchaff flitting round in a hawthorn bush was another welcome sign of Spring. It was answered by another bird in the bushes by the sewage works. I've never heard a Siberian chiffchaff sing before, I've only heard the call. Every time the song sounded like it was becoming the usual rhythmic "chiff chaff" song it fell to pieces. It's very much more unlike a common chiffchaff's song than is that of an Iberian chiffchaff.

The field between Martin Mere and Marsh Moss Road was full of Canada geese and greylags feeding on a pile of waste carrots. A pair of shelducks dabbled in a big puddle and a bunch of mallards loafed in the short grass. I could tell the state of the mud on the path here by the depth of the ducks' footprints.

Whooper swan, Martin Mere
This is a first-Winter bird coming into its colours.
Like an iceberg, ⅞ of a floating whooper swan's mass is under the water.

By the time I got to the entrance to Martin Mere I was starting to flag a bit. The weather had behaved itself so far but rain was in the air so I sat myself down in the Discovery Hide to get my eye in. There didn't seem as many whooper swans on the mere as last time and a lot fewer wigeon and shelduck. There were more black-tailed godwits, most of them clustered over on the far bank with a few oystercatchers, a dozen of them feeding in front of the hide with the ducks and pigeons, in between squabbling with each other. They were in various degrees of moult all the way from full Winter greys to bright ginger breeding plumage. A few godwits loafed on one of the islands with half a dozen ruff, giving an excellent opportunity to compare and contrast the two.

Black-tailed godwits and ruffs, Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit and ruff, Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit, Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit, Martin Mere

The pintails and shovelers took a bit more finding as most of them were over near the far bank with more greylags and a dozen cormorants. A few pochards were dotted about, playing hide and seek amongst the masses.

The Ron Barker Hide

The teal that had been notable by their absence were on the pool by the Hale Hide. There were a few more on the pools in front of the Ron Barker Hide together with about a hundred wigeon. More wigeon flew in with a couple of dozen pintails. Half a dozen avocets fed in the shallows away from the ducks. A heron and a great white egret played peek-a-boo in the long grass beyond the pools. The only lapwings of the day rose and fell a couple of fields away. Any waders planning on nesting here will need to put their markers down soon before the black-headed gulls nab the lot. Most of the best places on the small flat islands were already occupied.

Pintails and shovelers, Martin Mere

Avocets, Martin Mere

All the while this was going on the pouring rain was falling almost horizontally. I waited for it to calm down a lot before leaving the hide and wending my weary way. It was only when I was leaving I realised I hadn't seen any gadwall, long-tailed tits or pink-footed geese. I found a handful of pink-feet, literally five, a couple of fields away as I passed Brandeth Barn on the way over to Burscough Bridge.

I'd had four and a bit hours' wandering about, found plenty of birds to see and hear and had a couple of new experiences along the way. The train home being quarter of an hour late was just a minor inconvenience. A couple of brown hares running across a field by Hoscar Station was icing on the cake.