Leighton Moss

Snipe

It was a cold and sunny morning so I thought I'd push my luck, get myself an old man's explorer ticket and have a look round Leighton Moss.

The train journey up was mercifully uneventful. As the train slowed down for Silverdale I could see that most all the pools at the coastal hides were frozen over but the fields were heavily frosted rather than snow-covered.

By Silverdale Station 

Walking round to Leighton Moss from the station I headed straight for the Hideout to see what was at the feeders. 

Moorhen

Robin
I should have used the macro setting on the camera for this character but it would still have been out of focus because it kept hopping closer.

Female bullfinch 

Blackbird

Chaffinch 

Robin

Mallard

Blackbird 

The chaffinches and goldfinches kept getting barged off the sunflower feeders by bullfinches and robins; dunnocks, coal tits, siskins and greenfinches squeezed in when they could. Underneath the feeders half a dozen mallards, a couple of pheasants and three moorhens jostled for the spillage. A blackbird, a robin and a couple of mallards had taken up residence in the Hideout and mugged shamelessly for scraps. I felt guilty I didn't have anything on me.

From Lilian's Hide 

Snipe

Marsh harrier 

The pool at Lilian's Hide was frozen over, a dozen teal and a few snipe loafing and feeding as best could on the bank by the hide while a heron stalked the reeds on the far bank. A couple of marsh harriers kept floating up from the reeds near the causeway before dropping back down like a stone. I couldn't see that any of the hunting was successful.

Walking to the reedbed hides

The walk down to the reedbed hides was eerily quiet, almost like the morning after a heavy snowfall despite the fact there was no snow to be seen. The small bird noises were mostly falling leaves or the thawing of icy reed stems. A water rail calling by the path came as a shock. Every robin on the path begged for food. I felt awful. Especially when one flew up onto the tree trunk by my face and stared me in the eye. Girding my loins and hardening my heart I carried on walking, bumping into wrens, blue tits and great tits along the way. It was too late in the day to expect bearded tits but I kept an eye and ear peeled on the off-chance.

Reedbeds 

At the Griesdale Hide 

The pools were mostly frozen, a mute swan filling the patch of open water at the Griesdale Hide. Shovelers flew about without landing. A pair of cock pheasants sparred on the field beyond the reserve while a couple of carrion crows stopped by to watch. As I left the Griesdale Hide a cronk heralded the passing by of a low-flying raven.

Walking back into the reedbeds

Walking back to the visitor centre the thawing of the reeds sounded noisier. Upon investigation I found a few blue tits pecking stems open for insects and a pair of reed buntings feeding on seeds. I'd almost arrived at the corner where the reedbeds meet the willow scrub when I heard something else. At first I thought it was the tutting of the wren having a bath at the base of the reeds but it didn't sound right. I heard it again, if the wren wasn't a ventriloquist it must be another bird. Then a bearded tit flew out of the reeds by the first of the drowned willows and disappeared into the depths of the reedbed. I could still, just, hear it but couldn't find it to see again.

There were more robins, wrens, blue tits and water rails and a great spotted woodpecker pecked away at one of the big oak trees. I checked out the goldfinches and siskins feeding on the alder cones just in case any redpolls were in there with them.

The clouds rolled in and the moment they covered the sun there was a sudden drop in the temperature. I'd timed my visit right for taking advantage of the warm snap. I'd reconciled myself to having another visit without seeing a marsh tit so it was nice to meet one by the Hideout as I walked back to the visitor centre.

Leighton Moss 

The plan was to get the Barrow train to Ulverston so I could check out the bird life on the estuaries then get the Manchester train back from there. The plan was. The Manchester train was cancelled. The next train South was an hour later and arrived at Lancaster a few minutes after the train to Manchester left so there was a fifty-seven minute wait for the next Barrow to Manchester train. Earlier in the year I'd have spent that time at Leighton Moss but I wasn't going to rummage about there on the dark on a cold night. I idly looked at what was happening further down the line (I was trying to cobble together some other route home). There'll be a lot of people putting in Delay Repay claims this day.