Wirral

Sanderlings, Meols

I thought I'd best get over for a look at the waders on the North Wirral coast before the weather broke. I got the train to Liverpool and got myself an all areas Saveaway and bobbed over to Moreton. For all that there was an Autumnal feel to the mostly sunny day and enough leaf fall to be able to see through the trees I didn't see many birds along the way and woodpigeons were conspicuously thin on the ground.

Curlew, Kerr's Field

It's getting late for passage migrants though with the southerly winds and warm days lately the season's getting nicely stretched out and instinctively I kept looking about for swallows or martins despite the time of year. I had no real expectations of either so wasn't disappointed not to see any. The flock of half a dozen mistle thrushes feeding with the black-headed gulls and curlews in Kerr's Field was more typical of late October.

The frog that hopped across my path wasn't.

Common frog, Kerr's Field

I wandered along the path in the trees on Leasowe Common hoping to hear or see some warblers but only getting robins, blackbirds and wrens until I got to the pond where a Cetti's warbler was proclaiming territorial rights. Commas and red admirals fed on the last of the Michaelmas daisies on the verges.

Red admiral, Leasowe Common

The industrial sounds I was hearing from over the embankment turned out to be the tide coming in on a strong wind. I had a bit of a seawatch as I walked the revetment. It was thin going, just a trickle of herring gulls and lesser black-backs flying across with the occasional great black-back or black-headed gull. A juvenile kittiwake flew by about half a mile out, luckily the light was good and the black W across its wings stood out nicely. Objects bobbed about way out in the water, nearly all of which were certainly bits of flotsam or buoys adrift from their anchors. I'd dismissed one long black object as a log or something until it split into three and one of them decided to stretch its wings, a not untypical sighting of common scoters in choppy water.

A couple of flocks of ringed plovers flew over to the groyne then back out and off into the distance while a mixed flock of turnstones, sanderlings and ringed plovers settled down thataway. 

The groyne was covered in waders and with just enough water between it and the revetment to stop anyone going over for a clamber. The nearest, lowest section was white with sanderlings. A few still had their Summer browns about them but most were ghostly white and grey. A few dunlins were with them but most were higher up on the leeward side of the groyne away from the waves and spray, as were the ringed plovers. The highest, furthest part of the groyne was occupied by knots and redshanks though they had to budge up a lot when a lesser black-back flew in to rest. I spent a while scanning through the flock to see if anything else was about, my confidence in finding anything rather dented by my having to remind myself that knots have yellow-green legs. It was worth looking, though, as a purple sandpiper was sleeping low down on the leeward side amongst the dunlins.

Sanderlings, dunlins, ringed plover and redshank, Meols

Sanderlings, dunlins, ringed plover and redshank, Meols

Sanderlings, dunlins and ringed plover, Meols

Knots, dunlins, ringed plover and redshank, Meols

Sanderlings and ringed plover, Meols

Sanderlings and ringed plover, Meols

I wondered where the turnstones were, there were none on the groyne. They were further along on the revetment, trying and failing to settle down on the slope and being very twitchy of passersby. There was a definite passage of red admirals flying inland from the sea, one or two every hundred yards as I walked down to Meols.

The waves were still bashing the base of the revetment when the first waves of waders started flying out to the sandbanks. Curlews were first, wading shin-deep to feed, followed by oystercatchers then redshanks as the tide ebbed.

Oystercatchers, Meols

Shelduck, Meols

Redshanks, Meols

By the time I reached the promenade at Meols there was enough exposed mud for shelducks to join the feeding dunlins and redshanks.

I carried on walking halfway down to Hoylake then decided to call it quits and went for the train at Manor Road. Any ideas of having a late afternoon nosy somewhere on the Sefton Coast was knocked on the head by problems on the Northern Line caused by an incident — not a fatal one, I hope — at Liverpool Central so I got the train home.

Meols Beach