Sefton Coast

Dunlins

After a weekend of no buses or trains and a Monday of no buses and Equatorial monsoon rains it was a pleasure to wake up to a sunny day where everything should be back to normal. Except, perhaps my having a sudden attack of galloping hypochondria (high pollen count today and I'm allergic to the cat, who's been inside out of the rain a couple of days, so the sinuses have been doing interesting things to my sense of balance). A day at the seaside would do a world of good.

"Another Place" from Burbo Point

I got the train to Liverpool South Parkway, got myself an All Areas Saveaway and headed out for the Sefton Coast. The intention was to look for waders on the Alt at Hightown but on a whim I got off a stop early at Hall Road for a walk from Burbo Point to Hightown, which turned out to be a very good idea.

Common gull

The tide was still high though on the turn when I got to Burbo Point. There were plenty of gulls about: equal measures of herring gulls, lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls with a handful of common gulls. A flock of juvenile starlings squabbled around the car park. I did a bit of seawatching but didn't get much besides gulls. A great black-back steamed past, a common tern flew by and small flocks of ringed plovers and dunlins started returning from their high tide roosts. Every so often a large, dark bird would catch my eye in the distance and every time a second look would show it to be a juvenile gull of one sort of another.

Bar-tailed godwits

I joined the coastal path then started walking along the side path close to the bank, watching the arrivals as the tide ebbed. A couple of bar-tailed godwits busily worked their way along the sea line. More dunlins and ringed plovers flew in and stayed a few minutes before moving on. Two sanderlings that flew by seemed very early then I realised we're well into the Autumn passage now.

Along the coastal path 

Bar-tailed godwit

Approaching Blitz Beach the waders had started to settle on the emerging mud, dunlins and ringed plovers dashing about while bar-tailed godwits and curlews took a more leisurely approach. The godwits varied from breeding gingers to Winter beiges with a few bright sandy-brown juveniles in the mix. The raft of sea ducks near a buoy turned out to be mallards. A greenshank flew by in close formation with five knots, the greenshank strikingly conspicuous, the knots I had to identify by a process of elimination — I don't see them often enough looking dark and red.

Juvenile stonechat

Juvenile wheatear

Juvenile wheatear

Juvenile stonechat

Juvenile goldfinch

I hadn't seen many small birds so far, just a few passing linnets and goldfinches. This changed radically at Blitz Beach. Either side of the path thickets of dead Rosa rugosa bushes were smothered with perennial sweet peas, toadflax, thistles and field bindweeds. These were occupied by a family of stonechats and more goldfinches. As I was watching them I was aware of movements in the sea barrier rubble. A few more linnets and goldfinches and a meadow pipit… then a couple of wheatears popped up just a few yards away from me. Just as I decided to move on a family of whitethroats bobbed up out of a thicket and decided to cheer me on my way.

Carrion crow

Walking up to Fort Crosby and beyond there were a couple more stonechat families and more goldfinches on the thistles. An occasional wheatear would bob up onto a rock on the foreshore. I'd seen what I thought was a couple of jackdaws rummaging in the sea barrier rubble. As I got closer I realised they were too big to be jackdaws and I was puzzled. Closer still they were obviously young carrion crows, the very dark brown tabards which had caught the light when I first saw them suggesting that a few generations back a hooded crow had joined the family. 

Mallard

Sea cabbage

Out on the emerging mud redshanks joined the other feeding waders, flocks of lapwings loafed and oystercatchers bided their time waiting for the tide to retreat from their favoured mudbank a couple of hundred yards out. They didn't have long to wait; the tide's fast-in, fast-out on the flat muds of the Mersey Estuary. I'd been looking out for turnstones on the rocks and groynes but only found the one. I was glad I looked twice at a small curlew on a creek as it was really a whimbrel. I'd had a bumper bundle of waders and hadn't reached Hightown Dunes yet. A handful of shelducks accompanied the mallards dabbling in the creeks.

Whimbrel

Grey plover

I had a sit down on Hightown Dunes to have a drink and collect my thoughts. The noisy wader on the mud in front of me was a very smart-looking grey plover in its breeding duds.

River Alt at Hightown 

There were a lot more ringed plovers, curlews and dunlins on the Alt at Hightown and half a dozen little egrets stalked its banks. I kept hearing terns but they must have been out at the distant tideline beyond the groups of lesser black-backs and herring gulls loafing on the mudbanks, I just saw the one passing Sandwich tern. A line of white shapes in the distance were a couple of hundred black-headed gulls. I had a few minutes' sit down to scan around and enjoy the pied wagtails and linnets feeding on the foreshore before heading into Hightown for the train.

I considered heading up to Formby Point to see if I could find any squirrels then remembered it was a sunny afternoon in the school holidays. So I went home via Kirkby to see how the replacement bus service affected the journey from Wigan and discovered, by a fluke, I'd made the easiest connection I've ever made there.

Looking out towards Burbo Bank 

A much better afternoon's birdwatching than I'd expected, whim and serendipity winning the day again.