Ossett

Black-crowned night heron.

I've been conscious that I haven't explored much of nearby Yorkshire, something I'm planning on rectifying this year. A couple of night herons showing well on the Calder at Ossett over the Easter weekend gave me an excuse to make a start on it.

The weather forecast was for heavy rain and I dressed accordingly. In fact it was a bright sunny day and it was only late in the afternoon when it clouded over and started raining.

I got the train from Manchester to Dewsbury, walked over to the bus station and caught the 126 to Ossett, getting off on Station Road and walking down Healey Road to the river. There are sometimes downsides to twitches but the upside is that rather than wondering which path to take you can pass by the returning birdwatchers as if you were following a trail of breadcrumbs. Thus it was that I bobbed over the bridge and followed the path upstream. Chiffchaffs sang and foraged in the scrub by the path and a willow warbler sang from some birch scrub beyond. Sand martins buzzed about the river and its banks while mallards and goosanders dabbled and dived.

River Calder, Ossett 

The only obstacle to a very straightforward walk was a spitefully parked muck-spreading trailer. I had wondered why some large stones had been removed from the side of the path earlier on. The fence was a godsend.

A makeshift stile

An amiable crowd of birdwatchers was standing on a bend of the river staring at willow scrub on the bank opposite. I looked in vain for any night herons. I asked the chap next to me if he'd had any luck. He put me onto a white patch in the depths. "I've been here two hours and that's as much as I've seen of it." I thanked him, stared hard at the bird and thanked my lucky stars that my first night heron was a lot more obliging than this.

First sight: there's a night heron in them there twigs

I walked upstream a bit and found I got a marginally better view of the bird including the top of its head and occasional glimpses of the long white streamer tucked behind its ear.

I'd passed a few small tortoiseshells on the way in. Brimstones and orange tips busied themselves along the bank and the trees behind us. A blackcap sang in the trees behind us and goldfinches and great tits bounced between the trees on either bank. A kestrel hovered over the field beyond the trees on the far bank, occasionally pestered by rooks and carrion crows. A buzzard floated over unmolested.

The night heron moved out of view, shuffling down from its branch and I thought I'd had my lot. Then it shuffled out into a more open spot in the willow scrub on the other side of the tree it had been sat in and we got much better, if obstructed, views. There was no sign of any second bird.

Black-crowned night heron.

All the bird's movements were slow and deliberate, like a on old man negotiating a rickety ladder. It spent all its time either dozing or preening or, a couple of times, apparently both.

A kingfisher shot down the river to provide a cherry on the cake for us.

River Calder, Ossett 

Eventually I walked back, a grey wagtail flitting by me as I walked over the bridge. I'd noticed that there was a 120 bus due at the stop by the bridge. I could have taken it to Ossett bus station for the bus back to Dewsbury but on a whim I took it all the way to Wakefield just to get a better feel for the area. I'd hoped to get a train from Wakefield to Dewsbury but that doesn't seem to happen anymore. I was tempted to get the bus to Huddersfield and thence the train home to get a feel for the area South of the Calder but by this late in the afternoon I didn't have the energy for such a long bus ride. So I got the 126 back to Dewsbury and the train home.

A pleasant walk in a new place, it was good to see a night heron and the supporting cast was pretty good, too.