Merseyside bumpy bundle

Riders on Hoylake Beach

I wasn't sure how to see out the birdwatching month but after seeing lots of reports of a hoopoe showing well at Ince Blundell, about halfway between Lunt and Hightown, I decided to head that way and then mosey on down to Lunt Meadows for a late afternoon wander. I also noticed that the pallid swift that had haunted Hoylake at the beginning of last week had returned early this morning so I added that to the list. Like as not I wouldn't get to see it but it would only be an hour or two out of my way and the journey from Hoylake to Ince Blundell is uncomplicated, so why not.

I got the West Kirby train from Liverpool Lime Street and headed for Hoylake. I checked the wires for any updates on the swift and found it was moving my way and was hawking over the rooftops near the lifeboat station, just five minutes' walk from Manor Road Station. So I got off and walked down to the promenade. There were lots of starlings — a couple of hundred or more — on the rooftops along the prom, flying hither and dither and often for no apparent reason. Some of them landed on the beach but didn't settle and were soon back on the rooftops. 

One bird flying behind a block of flats didn't look like a starling so I kept an eye out for its reappearance. It came out into the open, speeding low over the rooftops. Blow me down: a swift! I didn't actually say: "Blow me down!" but you get the gist of the exclamation. Any sort of a swift in late October is special but what sort of a swift was it? I had perhaps ten seconds to get an impression of a bird with an extensive pale throat before it disappeared back into the roofscape. I wandered back whence I came, keeping an eye out for it all the time and it wasn't long before it reappeared, giving me a good minute's clear view as it hawked between the chimneys and letting me see that it actually was a pallid swift. That first impression was right: the throat was pale, nearly white at the chin and greyer down the throat, much more extensive than any common swift, even one with a full throat pouch heading back to feed young at the nest. It was also mousey brown, even against the backdrop of an overcast sky, without any of the sooty tones of a common swift. I wasn't sure if the head was slightly lighter than the body or if that was a trick of the light. I also had an idea it was a bit broader in the beam than a common swift but it was difficult to be too sure about it as it flew around. The flight was mostly level with a rise and fall as it looped back and forth. I got a few snapshots of blank grey skies and out-of-focus chimney pots as a record of the encounter. The swift drifted back low behind the flats and I lost it and couldn't pick it up again so I made my way back to Manor Road, keeping an eye out for any sign of the swift down the side streets as I walked down Hoyle Road.

Sea rocket, Hoylake 

The easiest way to get over to Ince Blundell was to get off the train at Moorfields, walk down to the bus station and get the 47 bus to Crossens which stops in the village. I struck lucky with the connection and it was only just over an hour before I was getting off the bus at Ince Blundell. A chap at the bus stop across the road walked over and let on. He remembered me from Marshside last week and confirmed that the hoopoe was still showing and I wouldn't miss the right field as there was a crowd of parked cars in the lane. We wondered if we were the last public transport birdwatchers, I hope not.

I walked out of the village along the dual carriageway. There was a steady passage overhead of pink-footed geese, herring gulls and black-headed gulls and a small flock of pink-feet shared a distant field with a couple of dozen curlews. There's no pavement along this stretch of the road so I kept to the grass verge, having recourse to the road where the roadside bushes got a bit frisky.

It was a hairy walk and I was relieved when I saw a dozen cars and blokes with telescopes a few fields down. As I got closer I saw that they were all pointing towards a far corner of the field I was walking by. They had a field of cabbages between them and their target, I had a nice clear view of a long field of close-cut grass. And I was damned if I could see what they were looking at. A couple of crows drifted across, two cock pheasants wandered over, bits of debris fluttered in the breeze. Then I saw something very briefly, as far away from me as it was possible to get in that field. It was a very brief and exceedingly unsatisfactory glance at a hoopoe as it disappeared into the field margin. I'd established it was still there though, I might have more luck joining the crowd. So I carried on and walked down the lane to where the congregation watched and waited. And had no luck whatever. More black-headed gulls and pink-feet passed by, a flock of lapwings flew over the airfield, woodpigeons and jackdaws drifted by.

Looking for a hoopoe

I gave it up after forty minutes. I'd already knocked on the head my original plan to walk back into Ince Blundell and thence on to Lunt Meadows, I didn't fancy having the mid-afternoon traffic up my backside as I walked back. I noticed that there was enough time for me to walk down North End Lane and get the 206 just outside Hightown with five minutes to spare so I headed that way. The alternative was a long drag into Formby for the 47 to Southport.

More gulls and pink-feet flew over. A couple of fields held ridiculous numbers of cock pheasants, a field by Alt Road had a few dozen jackdaws bustling carrion crows and pheasants away from a prime feeding patch. I paid a silent requiem to the mortal remains of a wren on the footpath by a farmhouse.

North End Lane 

I didn't have long to wait for the bus, most of which was wasted looking for a nonexistent bus stop (this stretch is hail and ride I think, anyway I hailed and rode) and got off at Hall Road, connecting nicely with a train to Southport and thence back home. 

It had been a game of two halves and disappointed though I was with the sighting of the hoopoe I'd managed to see a very unlikely lifer in the pallid swift.