Martin Mere

Mediterranean gulls, Martin Mere

It was all go at Humphrey Park Station this morning. The usual crowd of spadgers were about, one family chattering at the bottom of the steamroller's garden, the other under the Warrington-bound platform. A greenfinch sang from one of the sycamores, the first I've heard here for years, and a goldcrest sang just above my head as I waited for the train. The blackcap, which I could see was a blackcap, threw me a bit by chucking in a few scratchy variables in the manner of a garden warbler before going back to its "proper" song.

For all that the magpies at Trafford Park Station built so many nests I don't think any of them are occupied. The pair of Canada geese that had been nesting by the canal under the platform at Pomona look to have abandoned it, I'm not surprised as there's a lot of disturbance there. The pair that had nested on the canal next to the bottom of Deansgate have three goslings in tow despite the disturbance.

Chiffchaff, New Lane

I got the train to New Lane, changing at Wigan, for a lunchtime stroll down to Martin Mere. The birdwatching from the train was very quiet, a combination of Winter flocks splitting up and most of the trackside trees being in enough leaf to get in the way, so it was particularly nice to see a pair of grey partridges just outside Hoscar Station.

By New Lane Station

I got off at New Lane and walked down the path alongside the railway. There were a lot of fidgeting and rustling in the hawthorn hedges, most of which was house sparrows. A couple of chiffchaffs showed well, not unduly bothered by my being around, and whitethroats sang from the tops of the apple trees on the other side of the track, a legacy of the time when it was easy to throw your apple cores out of the train window.

Whitethroat, New Lane

It was too warm to linger by the water treatment works, just long enough to confirm the hirundines were house martins, there were three oystercatchers on the filtration beds and all the high-flying gulls catching midges were black-headed gulls. Moving on quickly through the midge clouds a call told me I was wrong and I was just able to catch the Mediterranean gull before it flew out of sight. As I approached the railway crossing I noticed that the flock of stock doves in the field was down to two dozen birds, which is still pretty impressive.

There had been a lot of butterflies along the path, mostly orange tips and green-veined whites taking advantage of the oilseed rape in the set-aside and the abandoned field of cabbages. There were even more as I joined the path around Martin Mere's reedbed walk, with the whites being joined by dozens of speckled woods and peacocks the length of the hawthorn hedgerows.

Orange tip, Martin Mere

Marsh harrier, Martin Mere

Green-veined whites, Martin Mere

A pair of marsh harriers sky-danced over the reedbeds. It's a funny thing: I generally get better views of the harriers from outside the reserve than inside.

We're full into the warbler season. For most of the length of the path I had reed warblers singing from the reeds to my left and willow warblers from the trees to my right, with chiffchaffs, blackcaps, whitethroats and a couple of Cetti's warblers providing a bit of variety. I've definitely lost my ear for sedge warblers this past couple of years, the sites where I could reliably get my ear in without any interference from reed warblers have either been tree-planted or strimmed bare. Thus it was I almost missed one singing in a ditch until it struck a couple of blackbird notes then went haring off into some shrill improvisation before returning to its scratchy rolling reel.

Black-headed gulls, Martin Mere

At Martin Mere I went straight to the Discovery Hide and looked out over the mere. Nearly every island and raft was covered in nesting black-headed gulls. Most nests were evenly spaced out just beyond pecking distance but prime spots were more densely packed and a lot more fractious.

The Winter wildfowl had mostly moved on, no whoopers or pintails, just two pink-feet over on the far bank and one wigeon: a corpse on the bank. There were a few gadwalls and mallards by the hide, half a dozen shovelers by the far bank and most of the geese were greylags, some with goslings. The only waders I could see were a few lapwings chasing crows over the fields, a couple of oystercatchers and half a dozen avocets feeding with the shovelers.

Avocet, Martin Mere

Avocets, Martin Mere

There were much closer views of avocets from the Hale Hide.

I walked down to the Kingfisher Hide. The tawny owls in the nestbox by the path have three young but you wouldn't know there was anybody in there as you passed by. It was very quiet at the hide, not even anything on the feeders. (I didn't see any tree sparrows anywhere on the reserve today.)

The Ron Barker Hide

It was nap time at the Ron Barker Hide. The shovelers, teal and avocets were distant dozing objects. Black-headed gulls and moorhens fed and bickered closer to the hide. A male marsh harrier made a cameo appearance and was ignored by everything bar a couple of reed buntings.

On the way back I saw the tawny owl for the first time in a couple of years. Or, rather, part of the owl. The scrunched-up sleeping eye of what I presume was the male bird, the rest of it being hidden deep in the ivy on one of the trees at the corner of the path.

There had been reports of three garganeys on the mere today so I went back to the Discovery Hide for another look. No sign of any garganeys but there was a pair of Mediterranean gulls preening on the spit in front of the hide, almost too close for my lens to focus on.

Mediterranean gulls, Martin Mere

After a much-needed cup of tea in the company of swallows returning to their nests I walked down to Burscough Bridge for the train home. The swallows had returned to the barn at the corner of Curlew Lane and twittered from the telephone wires. Flocks of goldfinches fed on roadside dandelions and hares skittered around in the barley fields. I bumped into the only tree sparrow of the day on the corner of Crabtree Lane and there was just one singing corn bunting at the stables. 

The view from Red Cat Lane

A pair of buzzards rose and soared overhead as I approached town, buzzards had been a notable omission from the day's tally.