Leighton Moss

Pochards

The weather looked decidedly iffy, I got myself an old man's explorer ticket and headed for Leighton Moss where I wouldn't have to walk too far for shelter if things turned bad.

Maidenhair ferns and ivy-leaved toadflax, Silverdale Station 

It was a gloomy, drizzly sort of a lunchtime when I arrived at Silverdale. The coastal pools had been full of black-headed gulls as we passed by and greylags shepherded small herds of goslings along field drains by the track. Blackcaps, blackbirds, chaffinches and robins sang by the station, it sounded like it was going to be a busy visit.

Not lucky today

I checked out the field by the railway line just in case it was my turn to get lucky and see a green woodpecker (it wasn't). Up to about ten years ago I used to hear them quite regularly here and once in a while I'd actually see them in the far corner of the field having a go at ants' nests. They're back this year and being seen often enough for me to keep my fingers crossed when I poke my head over that wall.

On arrival at Leighton Moss I was warned there was a school visit on and, as predicted and as usual, it turned out they were no problem at all. Sometimes there's an issue if there's a shouty teacher with the kids but that wasn't the case today.

The Hideout wasn't in use as I passed so I got my eye in with the chaffinches, dunnocks and great tits on the feeders and my ear in with the chiffchaffs, willow warblers, nuthatches and wrens in the trees. A Cetti's warbler sang from the undergrowth by the side. By the time I'd be going home I would have heard more Cetti's warblers than any of the others, and sometimes from surprising places.

Great crested grebe 

Nesting black-headed gulls 

Lilian's Hide was busy with grown-ups, all of whom were well-behaved. A dozen or so swifts were swooping about as I took my seat. Coots and black-headed gulls accounted for most of the noise. Great crested grebes, greylags and pochards quietly got on with their business. The business of most of the drake pochards was trying to impress the ladies. A pair of great black-backs cruised ominously in the far corner. I could just see that the usual pair were over on their nest on the osprey tower.

Female marsh harrier taking dinner home to the kids

A bittern started booming but stayed resolutely deep in the reeds. It's one of the few birdsongs I feel more than I hear, there's a lot of infrasonic going on in there. A female marsh harrier flew in carrying a sizeable package that was big enough to be a dabchick, conspicuously not circling the nest before setting down on it.

From the Skytower 

I had a look from the Skytower. The gaps cleared in the reeds over the Winter were just distant memories. More Cetti's warblers sang and the songs of sedge and reed warblers came quietly in the breeze.

I walked down to the reedbed hides. The wooded section was surprisingly quiet with lots of furtive movements in the undergrowth and lots of misleading movements in the trees as light raindrops from the mizzle dropped from the ends of leaves. I looked through to the fields beyond but could only see molehills and a couple of woodpigeons, it evidently wasn't my turn for green woodpeckers.

Sedge warbler 

The sedge warblers grew louder as I approached the reeds, slightly more metallic and jerky than the more distant reed warblers. It's always a relief to see one do its quick song flight just to confirm I've got it right. More swifts and black-headed gulls passed by, a couple of greylags honked as they flew overhead. I kept an eye out for ospreys, just in case, and had to make do with a male marsh harrier which, as making do goes, is a very nice consolation prize. As I crossed the bridge over the drain half a dozen swallows twittered past low over the reeds and headed off towards the visitor centre and beyond.

Looking down the main drain from the bridge

This sand Martin nestbox was put up donkey's years ago and they never came. The past few years the oystercatcher has nested on one corner, the black-headed gull the other.

The pool at the Tim Jackson Hide was littered with coots, mallards and gadwalls. Shovelers and teals, the usual mainstays here, were notably absent. One of the coot chicks had a habit of wandering well away from its parent into the middle of the pool, a bit reckless given that the marsh harriers have mouths to feed. For once I sympathised with coots' bad-tempered parenting. The delinquent was quickly brought back into cover. The usual combination of oystercatcher and black-headed gull was nesting on the sand martin nest box. They literally couldn't get any further away from each other. What they lose to visibility to gulls and harriers they gain by protection from ground-based attacks.

Nesting black-headed gull

Nesting oystercatcher 

Reed warblers sang deep in the reeds by the path to the Griesdale Hide, chiffchaffs and reed buntings sang in the trees while blue tits bounced about between trees and reeds. A ghostly-looking damselfly flew past, immature and not long out of its pupa and beyond my identification skills even if it had stayed still long enough for a proper look at it.

Domestic bliss: great black-backs 

The Griesdale Hide was quiet. A few mallards and gadwalls dabbled and quacked, a heron stalked a side pool and even the coots behaved themselves. Over on the osprey tower the great black-backs were well settled in, the male growling at any passing gulls or harriers. I can't imagine anything smaller than an eagle having a pop at a great black-back nest.

Red deer

Walking back I had no luck again with green woodpeckers on the fields but a red deer hind quietly grazed and paid no heed to passing birdwatchers.

The boardwalk to the causeway 

I walked over to the Causeway Hide, Cetti's warblers singing in the undergrowth, water rails squealing in the reeds and my first four-spot chaser of the year zipping over the hawthorn hedges.

From the Causeway Hide: greylags, Canada geese, mallards, great black-back, mute swans and cormorant 

The Causeway Hide was busy so I stayed outside and had a look round from the screen. The island was still largely underwater, just high enough to host an assortment of geese, ducks, gulls and mute swans. There were more mute swans, Canada geese and mallards cruising about the pool and a crowd of pairs of tufted ducks clustered about the corner by the causeway. 

Black-headed gull

The weather closed in at the Causeway Hide 

The wind had gotten up and the weather was closing in. Swifts and swallows followed the weather in. I thought it would be prudent to get myself a cup of tea and a train home. I wasn't going to be adding osprey to the year list today. On the way back I kept eyes and ears peeled for any marsh tits, the last omissions from my target list for the day. I wasn't very surprised to have no luck, they spend all Winter pretending to be fearless but during the breeding season they keep an exceptionally low profile so the other titmice don't pinch their nest sites.

Bullfinch

I stopped at the Hideout for one last look round. A male bullfinch monopolised the feeders, dunnocks and robins flitting in and out. A juvenile robin hopped out of the ivy for a moment or two before being escorted back under cover by one of its parents. Just as I called it quits a marsh tit flew in, grabbed a sunflower seed then shot off into the undergrowth. At least this time I didn't have to wait until I got back to the station before seeing one!

I got myself a cup of tea and headed back to the station, having one last glance over an empty field and looking at the crows by the golf club. I didn't have long to wait for the Manchester train and was serenaded by a Cetti's warbler in the car park while I waited.

From the roadside path to the causeway