First quarter review

Ring-necked duck, St Helens

It's been an odd start to the year, more a prolonged wet Autumn rather than a Winter and a sort of absentminded stumbling into Spring. That's been reflected in the birdwatching, particularly the weather and my increasingly grumpy reaction to it.

I had a look back to previous posts to remind myself how I present these reviews and much to my astonishment I find the pattern of my birdwatching in 2024 is pretty much the same as in 2022, sticking mostly to the Northwest with a trip out to Scarborough, nibbling round Cumbria and mid Cheshire and neglecting the Fylde. There are differences in the detail: the Warrington area's had a good going over and I've visited new places round St Helens and Heysham, and I still haven't got round to Frodsham and Northwich. Still, it's a good antidote to that nagging feeling I'm not getting to All The Places, the list of which seems to grow exponentially as I notice new places in passing or  go chasing round for the year list.

That year list is on 151, which is pretty good doing. It's largely been by slow accretion and luck rather than judgement. The notable absentees from the list at the moment are snow bunting and long-tailed duck, both of which I dipped; any flavour of white-fronted goose; tree sparrow, peregrine and ringed plover, which I haven't seen in their usual haunts; and wheatear but they're only just arriving. Against that, any year starting with cattle egret, black-throated diver and red-breasted goose and going on to add a red-necked grebe in full breeding plumage, multiple ring-necked ducks and lesser scaups, plus, an embarrassment of short-eared owls is going to be an interesting one.

Mandarin ducks, Etherow Country Park 

I've not added to the life list or British list yet but looking back over my records additions in the first quarter are the exception rather than the rule.

First-quarter totals by recording area:

• Cheshire and Wirral 79
• Cumbria 45
• Derbyshire 36
• Greater Manchester 95
• Lancashire and North Merseyside 114
• Yorkshire 53

Now let's brace ourselves for the Spring passage.

Lazy day

Goldfinches

As always the blackbird was the first singer before dawn, joined ten minutes later by the carrion crow that's nesting the other side of the railway line. The great tits and the coal tit were surprise early entrants to the chorus, I don't usually hear them until an hour or two later. Woodpigeons brang up the rear and took turns for the rest of the morning. The collared dove is generally saving itself for mid-morning these days then carries on singing sporadically most of the afternoon.

The robin was notable by its absence, as they all have been locally the past few days which is a sign that having established their territories they're now a bit busy. The demarcation line between "my' robin and the station bird is somewhere four doors down. I think they're nesting behind the shed next door but one. The line to the West seems to coincide with the tiny patch of grass left behind the houses a few doors down.

It was going to be a sunny day and I was in no hurry so I had a lie-in to give the coat, cap and boots another hour's drying out time. I chose not to be tempted by the pair of ferruginous ducks that have joined the ruddy duck at Woolston Eyes, the idea of the combination of crowd and deep mud was off-putting and the gates were closing again at one.

Collared dove

By the time I'd had breakfast I'd pretty much chosen not to do anything at all. I'd got comfortable sitting in the sunlight reading a book as the collared dove sang in the background, joined occasionally by a woodpigeon to demonstrate that while the rhythms may be similar the songs are very different and every so often the woodpigeon would disrupt the rhythm with a few "Oh Black Betty" phrases before settling back into the flow. Birdwatching isn't a job, it's a pastime and it's as well to remind myself it's no dereliction of duty to have a day off an enjoy the blue tits and goldfinches slipping in and out of the garden like thieves in the night, or just read a book in peace.

Sefton bumper bundle

Carrion crow, Crosby Beach

After yesterday's rather grim escapade I thought I'd best make an effort. As the forecasts promised a mixed bag of sun and showers, but with a lighter wind so it shouldn't feel so cold, I thought I'd check out:

• Crosby Marine Lake and Seaforth Nature Reserve to see if any Spring migrants were about;
• Hightown to look for waders; and 
• Marshside to see what was on generally as I've not been this month.

The only question was whether to head for Marshside first or Crosby. The decision was taken out of my hands by the cancellation of the Manchester train that provides the day's only connection of less than 58 minutes with the Southport train so I got the train to Liverpool South Parkway, bought an all-areas Saveaway and took the Northern Line to Waterloo.

Herring gulls, Crosby Marine Lake 

Lesser black-back and herring gulls, Crosby Marine Lake 

It was a mild and cloudy bank holiday morning with occasional spots of rain. Crosby Marine Lake was unsurprisingly busy with people and most of the birdlife didn't care. The herring gulls — almost all of them immature birds — congregated by the little pond with the mallards, tufties, coots and Canada geese. More herring gulls were on the marine lake along with a couple of cormorants and a drake red-breasted merganser, a first for me here. 

Little egret, Crosby Marine Lake 

I was walking by the pond when a little egret flew over and stood by the bank of the lake a couple of yards away from where I stood. It paid no heed to any of the people — and dogs — passing by on the path. The flock of starlings busy eating the pips on last year's sea buckthorn berries were a little less laid back, calling if people got too close but staying put because they were in the middle of a thicket of very thorny bushes. Skylarks sang above the dunes and linnets twitted by but it was all a bit too busy for any meadow pipits to be about.

Starlings, Crosby Marine Lake 

Seaforth Coastguard Station 

The tide was rising, and so was the number of people using the beach, so there were only carrion crows and magpies about on the sand. A few herring gulls flew by but didn't stop.

Linnet, Seaforth Nature Reserve 

I wandered over to the perimeter fence of Seaforth Nature Reserve, lured as much by the singing of linnets and greenfinches in the bushes as the prospect of passage migrants on the open ground. Canada geese and shelducks loafed on the grass, teal and shovelers dozed on little pools and rabbits grazed. This time of year any place by the sea with rabbits makes me hope for wheatears but there were none about today. There was a crowd of pied wagtails, though. There was a lot of variation in the colour of their backs from jet black to mid grey but they all had the required dark smudgy flanks and no contrast between the black on the nape and the colour on the back. Then up bobbed a male white wagtail, silvery grey on the back and clean white flanks, a textbook example. And it quickly bobbed back down again once the camera got it into focus.

One of those pied wagtails that make you look twice

The same bird as above showing its pied wagtail credentials 

One of those pied wagtails you don't have to look twice at to identify 

An uncooperative white wagtail 

There were small crowds of waders, Canada geese and cormorants loafing on the open water. Most of the waders were redshanks and black-tailed godwits with a few curlews. I couldn't find any dunlins, which was a bit of a surprise, nor the spotted redshank that's been here for a couple of weeks, which was less of a surprise given how far away they all were. Even had it been in full breeding black I'd have struggled as most of the waders were silhouetted in the sunlight.

Chiffchaffs sang in the sea buckthorns as I walked down to the lakeside path and watched a couple of little egrets fly in to feed on the bank by the nature reserve. I took a stroll round the reserve where another chiffchaff sang in the trees and a Cetti's warbler sang in the reeds. I'm old enough to remember when little egrets and Cetti's warblers were rarities you had to go down to the South coast to find.

I got the train to Hightown. The clouds were rolling in but it was still mild as I walked down to the dunes. I took a seat by the sailing club and looked round. The tide was high now and all the waders were distant dark lines on the roost over by the Altcar Camp firing zone. Lines of oystercatchers, redshanks and curlews spread across the mudbanks, identifiable more easily by sound than by sight. A lot of unidentifiable small dark objects might have been dunlins or ringed plovers or rocks. At the seaward end a couple of dozen cormorants stood like sentinels. Closer to hand pairs of shelducks and small groups of herring gulls bobbed on the water. Cormorants and carrion crows jostled for places on one of the large buoys and a raven got fed up of them all and flew over and inland.

There weren't any waders on the scrap of ground between the jetty and the groyne but there were a few dozing mallards, a little egret and there, all alone, a single pink-footed goose.

From Hightown Dunes

There was some filthy weather out at sea and the quickening wind was blowing it in fast. I decided to move on and hope to get to the shelter of the station or a train before the rain hit. I didn't get a hundred yards. The rain pelted down, then there was hail and then horizontal blasts of sleet. I hoped the sequence meant the squall was blowing over, instead my approach to the station was accompanied by horizontal hail and I was glad to scuttle into shelter. I decided that if it was like this at Southport I'd give Marshside a miss and go home.

The sun came out a couple of times on the way to Southport. On arrival it was a bit grey, the rain had passed but the evidence of its passage was everywhere and I got the 44 to Marshside. It started raining as we passed Hesketh Park. It got heavier as we turned onto Marshside Road. It became a thunderstorm as I walked past Elswick Road to the marsh. I wondered what on earth I was doing.

The rain abated a little and I reckoned I could safely walk down to Sandgrounders, have a scan round in the dry and walk back for the bus. The lake that was the marsh on the other side of the road was littered with mallards, shelducks, shovelers, teal and wigeon. The grassy marsh on my side was busy with starlings, woodpigeons, Canada geese, teal and lapwings. A few pairs of lapwings were display flying together. Further out there were dozens of black+headed gulls by one of the pools. Herring gulls and lesser black-backs flew overhead and a couple of immature great black-backs patrolled the marsh and put the wind up the starlings and lapwings.

Marshside Road 

The rain got heavier and colder. A chiffchaff sang from deep in the cover of a gorse bush. Even the coots and moorhens were looking fed up in the rain. I carried on mulishly. A couple of "they're too small to be shelducks" on a distant pool turned out to be my first avocets of the year. It started to thunder. I took the hint. I turned and squelched back for the bus.

The journey back was uneventful. The wait at Salford Crescent for the train to Deansgate was accompanied by the twitterings of sixteen goldfinches. I got home to a lovely sunset.

Stretford 

Pennington Flash

Canada geese, Ramsdales Hide 

I've rather fallen out of love with Pennington Flash and I'm not convinced I know why. It's easy enough to get to and it's never not been productive, even in the worst of weather. It might be something as simple as the vile state of the pedestrian access from St Helens Road, I spend a lot of time and energy getting over that first impression.

The pedestrian entrance from St Helens Road, knee-deep hardcore blocking the old car park to make sure people use the pay-as-you-go.

I gave up after fifty yards, walked back and took the road in.

It was a cool, grey and windy day when I i set out and the rain started while I was waiting for the 126 at the Trafford Centre. I was in luck: the rain blew over by the time I got off the number 10 on St Helens Road and walked into Pennington Flash. It was still cool, murky and windy but it wasn't raining. I wasn't really in the mood for a walk but it needed doing: the knees haven't had enough exercise lately and I've not been here yet this month.

The entrance pissed me off no end. In the end I gave up on the path and walked in by road. The official Pennington Flash website says: "Wigan Council has recently invested £2.7m into improving the experience of visitors to Pennington Flash with a new visitor information point and café, new accessible toilet facilities, improved parking with electric vehicle chargepoints [sic], and a new adventure play area all designed to help you enjoy the perfect day out." You can test the sincerity of any organisation's much-vaunted green credentials by comparing the pedestrian access with the vehicular access. I was going to be having yet another afternoon spending a lot of time and energy getting over that first impression.

The country park was astonishingly quiet of people, even taking into account the bad weather. I think I saw half a dozen visitors and all the hides were empty. I've been here when it was raining stairs rods in December and seen more people. Perhaps it's not just me falling out of love…

Wrens and robins sang by the roadside. A few mallards and a moorhen fossicked about on the deserted car park. Mute swans, black-headed gulls and a Muscovy duck sat on the bank. Out on the flash there were a few coots and a couple of pairs of great crested grebes. A raft of half a dozen tufted ducks drifted by, a few more of similar size were over on the other bank. There were perhaps three dozen large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs with a few herring gulls and the one great black-back. A flock of about forty sand martins whizzed about low over the centre of the flash.

From the Horrocks Hide 

Volunteers have been working like Trojans clearing the willow scrub off the spit at the Horrocks Hide to clear the view and it looks ready for whatever influxes of waders come by this Spring. This afternoon it was just three oystercatchers and two lapwings but it's early days yet. 

From the Horrocks Hide 

Most of the spit was covered with woodpigeons and stock doves on the end near the hide and cormorants, herring gulls and black-headed gulls over on the point. Some of the black-headed gulls in the bight were laying dibs for places on the nesting rafts. A few mallards and gadwalls dabbled about, a redhead goosander dozed by the bank and another small raft of tufties cruised by.

By the Tom Edmondson Hide 

I walked down to the Tom Edmondson Hide to the tune of chiffchaffs, robins and great tits. A couple of pairs of teal lurked near the reeds in a side pool along the way. There were a few mallards and Canada geese on the pool at the hide and a dozen more sand martins zipping about.

The usual Cetti's warbler sang by the path as I walked over to the Ramsdales Hide. The pool at Ramsdales was almost covered in Canada geese, the islands littered with black-headed gulls. A dabchicks hinneyed from the depths of the reeds.

At Ramsdales Hide 

It started drizzling as I left the Ramsdales Hide. I decided to walk up past the rucks and head round the Northern shore and on to Plank Lane, just for a change, just in case any willow warblers had arrived and just because I didn't walk to walk back down to St Helens Road. No willow warblers but the reed buntings were singing, there were more chiffchaffs and robins and wrens and it was a nice walk.

Walking towards Plank Lane

Plank Lane 

Walking along the canal into Plank Lane I noticed that nearly all the mallards were drakes and the two ducks were getting quite tetchy about their attentions, and quite right too. The rain got heavier, I had ten minutes to wait for the 584 back into Leigh and we'd gone one stop when the rain became biblical. I decided not to move on to another site for a nosy and waited for the late-running 126 back to the Trafford Centre.

It had been a thoroughly depressing afternoon but I'd had some exercise and Pennington Flash came up with 39 species of birds even with my not popping round to the Bunting Hide.

Irlam Moss

Swallows, Irlam Moss

It was a mild, sunny morning and I didn't much feel like doing anything. As I was brewing a pot of tea I counted the magpies across the road. This time of year the teenage gang of magpies on the school playing field is usually a dozen to eighteen birds, twenty being unusual. This month thirty-odd has been the norm, this morning there were forty of them out there.

I didn't want to waste a mild, sunny day, not with wet and windy on the horizon, so I sort of drifted over to Irlam for a short walk just so I could say to myself that I'd been out to play while the weather was fine. The first blackcap of Spring was singing at Humphrey Park Station. Luckily it repeated itself so I could make sure I'd got the identification right (blackcaps have robin-like phrases, garden warblers — which won't be due for a couple of weeks anyway — have blackbird-like phrases but one of the local robins has a few blackcap-like phrases in the run-up to a song that have made me stop and think a couple of times.)

Walking down Astley Road the Zinnia Drive spadgers were in full voice, as were the singing wrens and robins. The hawthorns were bristling with blue tits, great tits, goldfinches and blackbirds, a buzzard called from the trees over by Roscoe Road and the fields were busy with woodpigeons. A couple of swallows were perched on the telephone wires beside the road, a confirmation of the Spring promised by the chiffchaff singing by the Jack Russell's gate. A skylark was singing above the field opposite the gate and there were more on the field flitting about amongst the browsing woodpigeons. They took a lot of finding on the ground, they were almost invisible in the grass; the couple of meadow pipits that flew in did an even better disappearing act. Especially when the male kestrel flew by.

Magpie, Irlam Moss

Further along chaffinches and greenfinches joined the songs in the hedgerows. I kept eyes and ears open for yellowhammers but had no joy, I'm really struggling to find them on the mosses these days. I hope it's just my bad luck and not a population crash. I had more luck with pheasants, there were at least two to every field. The field next to the motorway looks to be being kept fallow and has a nice carpet of red dead nettle in flower across it. A couple of pairs of lapwings seemed to be looking it over to see if it would suit. Five mallards flew low over the field going from God knows where to who knows?

Roscoe Road

I didn't want much of a walk so I turned and headed down Roscoe Road and back into Irlam. A song thrush sang from one of the trees and a couple of long-tailed tits bounced by in the hedgerow. The birdsong was non-stop, any time one bird stopped to take a breath another would step in. Aside from the song thrush the robins and blackbirds were the main contenders with backing vocals from great tits, wrens and chaffinches.

I checked the bus times: I had half an hour to wait for the 100 to the Trafford Centre and if I walked back to the station I'd have an hour to wait for the train home. I decided to walk down to Irlam Locks and go over to Flixton for the bus home. It doubled the walk but it was better than kicking my heels while the clouds rolled in.

Walking down Cadishead Way (never a joy) I noticed a sudden eruption of pigeons rise over the locks. The cause soon became apparent: a sparrowhawk cruising by in hunting mode. I noticed three smaller birds going the other way, they turned out to be three more swallows. 

As I crossed the lock a cormorant preened as it sat on a lamppost, a mute swan cruised the canal upstream and three mallards were swimming downstream towards the railway bridge. I was barely across when a flock of sand martins came twittering overhead, wheeled around the water treatment works a few times and went on their way. The starlings and magpies on the filtration pans were joined by a couple of pied wagtails and a grey wagtail.

Walking down Irlam Road into Flixton mallards and Canada geese loafed by the canal bank, a heron flew upstream and the hedgerows were noisy with house sparrows, wrens and robins. I'd had a bit of exercise despite myself and was glad to get the bus home just as the weather started blowing for rain.

Irlam Moss

Hindley

Black-necked grebe, Low Hall 

It had been a damp morning but I needed the exercise after a lazy weekend drinking too much tea and doing a bit in the garden. I got the 132 from the Trafford Centre and headed over to Hindley, thinking that if it was going to rain I would be as well to be near some cover at Low Hall or Amberswood. I got off the bus in Hindley and walked down Liverpool Road. I was going to have a quick look at Low Hall then have a wander round Amberswood, emerging at Platt Bridge, Spring View or Manchester Road depending on the weather.

Low Hall

I keep thinking there's another way into Low Hall from Liverpool Road before you get to the car park but I can't see it. Probably as well, looking down on the paths from the road. Great tits, robins and a song thrush sang and woodpigeons clattered about in the trees, two of them upsetting a buzzard which silently flew off over Amberswood. Dunnocks and wrens, blackbirds and coal tits joined the songscape and a pheasant called from deep in the trees. I walked through the car park and over towards the pond. Chaffinches and a nuthatch were singing in the trees and male blackbirds were scrapping in the undergrowth. A Cetti's warbler sang from the reeds by the pond.

Black-necked grebe, Low Hall 

The first birds I saw on the pond were a couple of mallards and the shelduck that seems to be resident here. I was scanning the pond when I realised that there was a small bird swimming quite close to the bank. Much to my surprise the black-necked grebe that had been reported here the other day was still here. It swam a bit closer so I could have a better look at its fine breeding plumage, posed for a few photos and then I said thank you and left it alone to get on with its business. A black-necked grebe in breeding plumage is a bonny bird but I've only ever seen them from a distance.

Black-necked grebe, Low Hall 

Black-necked grebe, Low Hall 

I wandered over to Amberswood. The rain was that sort of heavy drizzle that makes it wet without putting a lot of effort into it. Despite its being quite mild my breath was condensing in the oversaturated air. It was fine for walking in. I kept to the metalled paths, which were quite wet enough thank you, the rough paths into the woods looked grim underfoot. The usual pair of mute swans mingled with a few coots and mallards, half a dozen tufted ducks drifted and dozed and the great crested grebe love triangle seemed to have resolved with the lone male keeping to the other side of the lake to the pair.

Mute swan, Amberswood Lake

By Amberswood Lake 

The titmice were very active in the trees (it was only when I got home I realised I hadn't seen any long-tailed tits among the crowds). I was pleased to bump into a willow tit, appropriately enough in a willow on the bank of the lake. Chiffchaffs and robins sang in the trees, blackbirds and song thrushes skittered about in the undergrowth and woodpigeons bounced about in the treetops. 

Amberswood 

I took one of the paths heading towards Ince and meandered my way thataway. There were lots of birds about, and very vocal too, but unlike the grebe they were phenomenally camera shy, even the robins. I tried playing peekaboo with a pair of jays but they were having none of it, nor yet the coal tits and blue tits in the trees by the path. I was trying to pick out the runners and riders in a pack of small birds in some larches by a pool when a Cetti's warbler crept up behind me, gave me a blast of song and ran away.

Jay, Amberswood 

So far I hadn't seen many finches bar a couple of chaffinches, there weren't even any goldfinches about. I wasn't altogether surprised, the alder cones looked robbed out and exhausted. I'd gone quite a fair way when a flock of siskins flew in and settled on a stand of birch trees by the path. As far as I could determine they were all siskins though half a dozen birds a few trees away could have been any small finch. I stood watching them awhile as the rain got its own back on me for not taking it seriously earlier then they moved on. About ten minutes later I bumped into presumably the same flock further down the path. They'd found another stand of birch trees behind some hawthorns and were busily attacking the catkins. There were a lot of pale and streaky female siskins in the crowd and I almost dismissed a couple of pale, streaky birds as yet more of them until I realised they had significantly shorter tails and were streaky brown, not streaky green, above. It came as a relief to get lesser redpolls onto the year list. It struck me, yet again, how the red on the forehead of a male redpoll looks black in poor light from a distance.

Amberswood 

I carried on, passing a couple of small ponds including a secluded one with a pair of mute swans and a crowd of drake mallards looking obviously surplus to requirements.

I emerged onto Warrington Road opposite the cemetery and didn't have long to wait for a number 9 to Leigh or the 126 from Leigh to the Trafford Centre. I'd had a good stroll, the weather hadn't been awful and the birdwatching had been pretty good.

Amberswood 

Lazy Saturday

I slept through the dawn chorus for the first time in over a week and woke to a bright sunny morning. For ten minutes, then the sky turned black for ten minutes, then sunny again, then cloudy. I watched the clouds scudding over and the wind rocking the trees and decided I'd have a lazy day of it.

I'd refilled the bird feeders yesterday and the spadgers and titmice had taken residence in the roses and fruit bushes to take advantage, the male great tit sitting on a stem of rambling rose, reaching out to the feeder and picking out a sunflower seed every time the wind blew it close enough. The sparrows worked a bit harder and the blue tits and coal tits put in some hard graft. I was hoping the chiffchaff that popped in first thing yesterday might come back in but it seems it was just taking a pitstop before moving on. There's been a bit of argy-bargy going on with the woodpigeons, I wonder what the story is behind the one with no tail feathers.

The field across the road looked deserted at first sight. First sight was deceptive: there were three dozen woodpigeons out there together with a few magpies and jackdaws and a couple of dozen starlings. It's the first time in a while there's only been single figures of magpies on there in the morning, the other day there were thirty-odd. There was a lot more starlings noises going on, in the end I found the source: sixty-odd of them crowded in the birch tree by the old youth centre. Judging by all the whooping and whistling they're on the move, certainly they were nowhere to be seen an hour later though the birds feeding on the field were still there.

Yet more starlings arrived at teatime, a couple of dozen suddenly appeared in the trees on the embankment, calling noisily to each other for a few minutes before disappearing stage right. A few minutes later another flock, forty-odd birds this time, flew in stage left, shouted at the clouds as it started pouring down then flew off to follow the others.

It occurs to me I might usefully revise the songs of blackcaps and garden warblers before it's their turn to make an appearance.

Banks Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh

It was a bright sunny morning so I set out for a proper walk. I havered between a visit to Marshside or a visit to Martin Mere then noticed that the trains stopped at Wigan and there was a rail replacement bus between Wigan and Southport. It worked out quicker (and more reliable for planning purposes) to go to Preston and get the bus to Southport from there. Then I noticed that the regular Todd's Canada goose had been reported on Banks Marsh and that a tundra bean goose had also been reported from there. So the plan was that I'd go up to Preston, get the 2a to Longton Brickcroft, have a quick shufti round, get to 2 to Far Banks and walk round from Banks to Crossens and thence to Marshside, a walk I've done a few times so I know it's feasible.

I got myself an old man's explorer ticket and got the Barrow train to Preston. Any temptation I might have had to go further evaporated as no Barrow trains were going any further than Lancaster due to a train derailment at Grange-over-Sands.

Woodpigeon, Longton Brickcroft 

Longton Brickcroft was busy with birdsong, I'd barely walked into the car park and I was hearing robins, wrens, coal tits, great tits and chiffchaffs. I had to wait a minute while two male blackbirds fought their way across the path. A few mallards dozed on the bank of the pond, a mute swan cruised about on its own, a pair of Canada geese mooched about together.

Longton Brickcroft 

I checked how the buses were running and conceded I didn't have time to walk up to the North pond, or I could if I didn't actually look at anything. The trees by the middle pond were busy with titmice and chaffinches and a nuthatch sang by the road. I noticed there weren't any squirrels about, perhaps there were too many dogs going for a walk today though they were all on leads and well-behaved.

Longton Brickcroft 

I didn't have long to wait for the 2 and it wasn't long before I was getting off the bus at the top of New Pace Lane and walking up the road to Banks Marsh.

Walking up to Banks Marsh

The breeze had picked up a lot and most of the passing lesser black-backs were flying sideways or tacking furiously into the wind. There's not a lot of cover hereabouts and the small birds were keeping well tucked into it. A few meadow pipits flew by and skylarks sung over the fields, the blackbirds, blue tits, chaffinches and wrens hid in the hedgerows by the farmsteads. Dozens of woodpigeons browsed the stubble fields, a couple of oystercatchers called from a freshly-ploughed field and pairs of mallards lurked in field drains. I was watching a little egret float by when a kerfuffle erupted over in the trees a couple of fields away, a dogfight between a pair of carrion crows and a pair of buzzards which seemed to end with both parties retreating to their respective corners.

Banks Marsh 

Climbing up and stepping onto the top of the bund by Banks Marsh was like walking into a wall. To call it breezy would be to understate for comic effect. I wished Lilian Gish a good afternoon as she passed by. There was a distinct change since my visit the other week: gone were the flocks of wigeon and teal and there was perhaps a couple of thousand pink-feet scattered on the distant marsh. There were still a handful of teal in the creeks and pools close by with a few mallards and a lot of shelducks. Scanning round there were hundreds of shelducks dotted about, shining white in the sunlight. There weren't a lot of little egrets about, or lapwings, but there were plenty of curlews. 

Meadow pipit, Banks Marsh 

Luckily for me all the pink-feet within close viewing distance of the bund were upwind. I kept an eye out for anything that might not be a pink-footed goose, the year list being a bit light on geese so far. Every so often my eye would be caught by geese with orange legs and they'd move and the change of the angle of light would turn them bubble gum pink. It's not a good idea to rely on leg colour anyway, some pink-footed geese do have orange legs. Meadow pipits chased each other round the bund, skylarks sang and oystercatchers called.

One of the geese in the mid-distance looked a bit different. Usually this means it's a slightly paler pink-footed goose or it's the one in a group on sentry-go. But no, it was consistently taller and bigger bodied and slightly paler. Eventually it turned its head and I got a good enough look at its beak to confirm it as a tundra bean goose. There's usually one or two amongst the crowds of pink-feet on the Ribble Estuary each Winter but it's a real needle in a haystack job to find them. Buoyed up by my find I redoubled my efforts to find the Todd's Canada goose but couldn't see any flavour of Canada goose out there.

Pink-footed geese, Banks Marsh 

I didn't fancy walking back into this wind but carrying on and walking down to Hundred End Lane felt like an admission of defeat. The plan was to walk round to Crossens and that's what I was going to do. It was hard going. I had every sympathy with the small tortoiseshell that shot by. 

I'd walked a couple of hundred yards when all the geese on the estuary took flight, spooked by a light aircraft. I was grateful for the excuse to stand still (well, wobble about a bit in the wind) and scanned the flocks for anything that wasn't a pink-footed goose or a shelduck. Wave upon wave passed and wheeled and eventually they started settling back onto the marsh, most of them heading into the distance upriver. A bird in one of the last clouds to pass by caught my eye, it was shadowing the crowd rather than being part of it. They wheeled round, giving me a side-on view, and there it was: the shadow was the Todd's Canada goose. Thin-necked, no pale collar at the bottom of the neck with the black fading into the brown of the back, and a "different" feel to it. There's a huge element of luck involved in birdwatching and I'd struck lucky today.

The moreso as as I arrived at the gate by Old Hollow Farm, gasping and holding onto the fence while I caught my breath, two swallows dipped over the bund and over onto the marsh and followed the wind upriver. It had taken me half an hour to walk the half mile back (admittedly, stopping to watch the crowds go by) and I admitted defeat, I'd be knackered before I'd reach Crossens. I dropped down from the bund and immediately felt the difference.

Kestrel, Banks Marsh 

A pair of kestrels were sitting in the field by the stock yard as I passed. The fields were busy with woodpigeons, shelducks and mallards, lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls passed by, skylarks sang over the fields, chiffchaffs, greenfinches and wrens sang in the hedgerows. I got the bus into Southport and got the rail replacement bus back home. It hadn't been the intended walk, and I can't say I got the full value out of the old man's explorer ticket but I'd had a bit of exercise and there was plenty about to see.