Martin Mere

Pintails

The day was set cool and cloudy but dry so I headed out for Martin Mere, getting the train to New Lane and walking the long way via the reedbed walk.

It's nudging Spring and the brown hares are out in the fields of West Lancashire. I saw my first of the year as the train left Parbold (and just like every Spring I was surprised how big hares are when they stand up properly). There were a few more in the fields around Hoscar.

The water treatment works at New Lane was heaving with hundreds of black-headed gulls and pied wagtails and dozens of magpies, starlings and meadow pipits. The brambles along the railway by the works were busy with reed buntings feeding on the insects alighting on the wire fence. On my side of the railway line forty-odd black-headed gulls followed a ploughing tractor while a flock of a couple of hundred linnets and goldfinches sat in the treetops nearby and chattered their protests at being moved on. All the while the noise of gulls and finches and wagtails was being accompanied by a background of almost industrial bubbling of thousands of pink-footed geese in the fields beyond Martin Mere. Every so often squadrons of a few hundred geese would rise and fly off to pastures new.

Pink-footed geese

I crossed the railway line and followed the path to Martin Mere trying, and failing, not to keep disturbing the pair of kestrels that were keeping tabs on that field. Each time I disturbed one of them it would fly a few yards ahead and perch by the path and we'd repeat the process until there was enough space between a perch and the path for us both to pretend we hadn't seen each other and I could pass without incident. Each time a kestrel took flight so did a crowd of reed buntings and linnets that were otherwise invisible in the long grass on the field. The female kestrel tired of the game and flew back to perch one, spooking a pair of stonechats in the process. Once they'd made their displeasure quite clear they disappeared into the burdocks whence they came.

Kestrel

I followed the path that skirts the perimeter of Martin Mere's reedbeds. The hedgerows had been slash trimmed recently but that didn't stop them being full of greenfinches, linnets and goldfinches. I took the diversion to the sewage works to see what might be feeding on the fence on this side. The answer was rather a lot of reed buntings, some chiffchaffs and a Siberian chiffchaff. 

At one point I had both the Siberian chiffchaff and a singing common chiffchaff in my line of view which gave me an excellent opportunity to compare them. I was struck by how contrasty the Siberian chiffchaff was with its silver white underparts and coffee coloured upperparts compared to the common chiffchaff which hardly showed any contrast between upper and lower. It also struck me that there's a caveat to the guiding principle that you can tell it's a Siberian chiffchaff by the lack of green tones: there were sulphur yellow edges to its flight feathers which some people might see as green whereas the common chiffchaff was in tones of warm sandy yellow and olive brown without a hint of green about it.

The field by the entrance to Martin Mere was full of fieldfares and linnets with dozens of goldfinches and chaffinches in the trees lining the path. I haven't seen a brambling yet this year so I scoured the crowds just in case. I had no luck but no look no see. A buzzard flew in, sat in a tree in the white stork paddock and spent a few minutes receiving meaningful glares from birds with long pointy beaks before moving on elsewhere in the reserve. Dozens of black-headed gulls were flying about overhead and I almost missed a passing Mediterranean gull in the melee.

Ruff and mallards

The mere was very busy. The bank by the Discovery Hide was carpeted with mallards, pintails and pigeons with a few black-tailed godwits and ruffs picking their way through the masses. A couple of dozen wigeons were dotted about with similar numbers of shelducks, coots and whooper swans. It took a while to find any teal and all the lapwings were over on the far bank with twenty-odd oystercatchers.

Whooper swans

Another couple of dozen whoopers flew in and landed on the far bank. They spent a while preening but seemed skittish and soon moved on. I had a scan round to look at the remaining whoopers and found myself my first half dozen avocets of the year.

Whoopers, avocets, black-headed gulls, wigeon and cormorants

Snowdrops 

I walked down to the Ron Barker Hide past glades of snowdrops. A flock of tree sparrows bustled round the feeders by the Hale Hide, the trees by the Kingfisher Hide were noisy with chaffinches, goldfinches and greenfinches with reed buntings flitting about the undergrowth. I don't remember these paths being that busy before. I had an unsuccessful scan around the ivy-covered trees for any signs of a tawny owl, it's always worth a go.

Cattle egrets being like it says on the tin

The first birds I spotted at Ron Barker's were two cattle egrets paying close attendance to the bull grazing in the wet meadow by the side. Out on the pools were all the teal and shovelers I hadn't seen on the mere. The only marsh harrier of the day was sitting in a tree by the far gate on the drain.

I made my way back, adding an overflying curlew to the day's tally. I debated stopping and having a cup of tea in the café but it occurred to me that once I'd sat down I couldn't guarantee having the energy to get back up and comfortably walk over to Burscough Bridge Station.

I set off for the station. The first half of the walk was busy with birds: dozens of woodpigeons fed in the fields, a dozen whoopers fed in a field down Curlew Lane with a flock of pink-feet, more than a hundred jackdaws were feeding on the turf fields behind the farmhouse. Things got quieter after Crabtree Lane: the woodpigeons were many but distant, as were the fieldfares and lapwings. Any hopes I might have for partridges or corn buntings were unsatisfied, which serves me right for being greedy.

Red Cat Lane 

I arrived at the station with five minutes to wait for the train back to Manchester and by a bit of a miracle made the connection with the train back home at Deansgate, a spectacular end to a spectacular day's birdwatching.

Snowdrops, Martin Mere