Lazy Sunday

Blackbird

One way or another yesterday's shenanigans caught up with me and I dozed off watching telly then dragged an aching body up to bed where I slept a straight twelve hours. I'm not Peter Pan any more. I decided to give the poor old eyes a rest today by reading and checking through my photo library, like you do if you don't have the sense you were born with.

The sparrows are back in the garden. Even if I hadn't seen them the feeders would have told the tale. I've noticed that the great tits and long-tailed tits prefer the fat balls in the feeder in the blackcurrant bushes, convenient for a quick dash back into the roses, while the coal tits prefer the feeders by the wash house with a direct line of sight to the rowan tree and a little rhododendron bush nearby to drop into if need be (the blackcurrants and rhododendron are also favoured by the dunnocks and robins). The blue tits will go to whichever the nearest feeder is that isn't covered in sparrows.

The flock of blackbirds that denuded the Pyracantha bushes at the station last week have dispersed. I've been getting two or three of them in the garden each day. I'm not sure if the males are sticking around or just passing by but the female has a particularly strikingly marked throat that makes her easy to recognise and she's been around a couple of weeks now. I wonder if she's going to be a resident or if she's just here for the Winter.

Over on the school playing field there was the usual dozen each of black-headed gulls and magpies and four rooks. There are times I'm tempted to presume they're there and just add on anything else I happen to see (at least once a week one or the other of them is missing when I go out and look, just to stop me becoming complacent). The jackdaw numbers have been a bit erratic this week but I've felt there's more than usual about. Today there were definitely more than usual about, thirty three of the noisy little beggars. I can't remember seeing that many here before.

Southport

Immature kestrel, Crossens Outer Marsh

I was up until half six listening to the most ridiculous, though entertaining, Test Match there's been in ages. Armed with a couple of hours' sleep I headed to Southport for a wild goose chase. The Manchester train was cancelled so I got the Liverpool train then the one up the Sefton coast to Southport. It's a long journey but twenty minutes quicker than waiting for the next train to Manchester then having forty minute connections (assuming no delays or cancellations). I struck dead lucky with the 44 bus and was walking down Marshside Road by lunchtime.

It was mild for February, let alone December. The sun was low and bright and the landscape was full of shades of blue and gold that ought not to be let out in the wild. In the midday sun I felt overdressed but soon changed my mind whenever I walked into shadows and that wind had an edge to it. The school playing field was more molehills and puddles than grass. Eighty-odd lapwings, a couple of dozen woodpigeons and a handful of ruffs rummaged about in the wet grass.

Kestrel
The same bird as at the top of the page. We'll be meeting it again.

Marshside was very wet and covered in waders and wildfowl. An immature kestrel sat on a road sign by the path and would have stayed put as I passed but I glanced up and we made eye contact. It glided onto the fence by the marsh, all of ten feet away, and waited for me to move along a bit before returning to its perch. We bumped into each other a few more times in the afternoon, it was one of three kestrels hunting the marshes.

Rimmer's Marsh 

Over the road Rimmer's Marsh (yes, I had to look it up again) was awash. Wigeons drifted about on the shallow water or loafed in groups on grassy islands. Starlings skittered and splashed about between the lapwings, sometimes bustling too close by a lapwing and getting an irritated peck as a reward. 

Junction Pool 

Nearing Junction Pool small groups of pintails and shovelers dabbled and loafed and a raft of a dozen tufted ducks dived and dozed by the viewing screen. Alliteration is evidently a by-product of lack of sleep.

Wigeons 

Sutton's Marsh 

Sutton's Marsh on my side of the road was probably just as wet but was showing a lot more grass. Wigeons and Canada geese grazed while black-tailed godwits probed the ground. I could only find the one curlew today, and that was distant. Shelducks, mallards, greylags and teal cruised about and there were crowds of gadwalls in the land drains. A green-winged teal had been on the marsh during the week, if it was staying around I wasn't finding it.

Wigeons and black-tailed godwits 

Wigeons

Every so often I'll bump into a drake wigeon with a green flash on the side of its head like the one on the right. When they're coming out of eclipse I have to look twice in case I've overlooked an American wigeon. I don't know if this is a recessive gene or a reflection of some past hybridisation — any hybrids in the family history wouldn't necessarily be recent and might involve some other duck species entirely, in ducks it's quite common for hybrids between A and B to look like C or D. Duck genetics must be an untidy business, they're not particularly fussy and over the millions of years of anatine evolution there'd be countless opportunities for gene flow between species and even genera.

Black-tailed godwits 

Black-tailed godwits 

Gadwalls

A heron spooked the godwits as it flew across the road, they were already jittery after a great black-back (a more likely danger) flew low over. They soon settled back down to their feeding. Short-lived eruptions of lapwings and starlings marked the passage of great black-backs or, a couple of times, the kestrel. Little egrets glowed white in the low sun, a flock of woodpigeons flew inland from the sand plant, a few herring gulls and black-headed gulls flew about or perched on lampposts, and three snipe flew across the road and disappeared into the crowd. It was a bit busy.

Gadwalls, shovelers and teal, black-tailed godwits in the background 

I didn't linger long in Sandgrounders, when the marsh is this wet the birds spread about a lot more and don't congregate at the pools by the hide.

Pink-footed geese 

As I walked by Marine Drive waves of pink-footed geese flew into the salt marsh from inland. Judging by the number of heads playing sentry in the long grass there were hundreds, if not thousands, already out there. Every so often clouds of skylarks and meadow pipits erupted from the marsh, I didn't see the male merlin until it perched on a fence post for a rest. The pink-feet by the fence post took no notice of the merlin but they were all heads-up when a ringtail hen harrier floated by. A male marsh harrier was greeted by a lot of angry honking.

Marsh harrier 

Kestrel

I'd been playing leapfrog with the kestrel I'd bumped into on Marshside Road. I suspect it was keeping an eye on me to see if I might disturb its next meal. As I reached the boundary fence between Marshside and Crossens Marsh it flew a little ahead of me and hovered for a few minutes before trying its luck across the road.

Kestrel

Crossens Inner Marsh 

Crossens Inner Marsh was crowded with wigeons, lapwings and Canada geese. The hundred or so golden plovers were infinitely easier to spot when they were spooked by a couple of low-flying herons, once they settled back down again they were shapes in the crowds.

McCarthy's 

I crossed over and had a sit down at McCarthy's viewpoint to look over Crossens Outer Marsh.

Pink-footed geese 

There were small parties of pink-feet and shelducks relatively close in. Further out there were more pink-feet and Canada geese and considerably more in the distance towards Banks Marsh. A snow goose has been reported on and off recently, the only white objects I was finding were shelducks and little egrets. White-fronted geese — both Greenland and Russian — have also been reported and there was always the chance of a barnacle goose or a tundra bean goose, or perhaps the regular Todd's Canada goose might be around. Realistically it was a job for a telescope rather than binoculars but don't look, don't see.

Pink-footed geese 

A couple of big brown geese turned out to be pairs of pink-feet standing closely side by side, one grazing and one on look-out. Some big, pale individuals turned out to be perfectly normal pink-footed ganders in a group of small, dark first-Winter female pink-feet. Small parties of pink-feet flew in and flew out, or rose up in a panic as a female marsh harrier drifted by, I checked them out for anything different but they were all pink-feet. When I finally saw a white-fronted goose I dismissed it out of hand until I asked myself was I sure and went back for a third look. No, it wasn't bigger and taller because it was standing on a mound and the difference in colour wasn't down to the angle it was catching the sun. (I was helped considerably here by the sun parking itself behind a big cloud for a while). At that distance in this light the bill colour wasn't reliably identifiable but its shape and the darker, rather inky, brown tones to the wings and underparts made me think it was a Greenland white-front.

Crossens Inner Marsh 

Looking over the river to Banks

Wigeons and teals crowded the bend of the River Crossens as I passed by. I was tempted to walk down into Banks and walk up to the marsh but realistically I wouldn't have had the legs for it, I was starting to notice the cold in my knees. I'd had an excellent afternoon's birdwatching and there was no call for spoiling it. I walked down and caught the 47 back into Southport. I checked the times and concluded it wouldn't be sensible to stay on past Ainsdale for a twilight walk down Plex Moss Road in the hope of finding a couple of tundra bean geese amongst the pink-feet, if they were still there and hadn't gone to roost. Instead, tired and a bit greedy, I had my head pressed against the train window up to Burscough Bridge, looking for owls in the gloom.

Boxing Day home thoughts

Himalayan rowan, Sorbus hupehensis, a street tree round the corner from my house.
It's not mistletoe but the local pair of mistle thrushes are firmly of the opinion it's their property. 

It's an odd thing: the sparrows descended on the back garden early on Christmas Eve and denuded the feeders and I've hardly seen them since despite my making the trip out to make sure they weren't short of sunflower seeds and fat balls over Christmas. One of the blue tits and a robin sat within arm's reach in the rose bushes waiting for me to finish the refill, dunnocks and blackbirds dived in quick for any spillage the moment I walked away.

The collared doves, woodpigeons and robins are singing every morning and there's a lot of canoodling going on amongst the jackdaws and carrion crows. Over on the school playing field the pairs of rooks pause in their feeding every so often to preen each other's ear coverts. The days are getting longer.

There's a constant crowd of black-headed gulls on that field every day between daybreak and half-twelve. Most days it's a dozen birds though sometimes it'll be as many as two dozen as birds drift in late morning. They'll all have moved on about two o'clock. The large gulls seem to know that school's out: there's been one or two herring gulls or lesser black-backs this week and all adults, the past couple of weeks there's been crowds of first-Winter herring gulls with the highest count being twenty of them. Most days there's at least one common gull loafing with the black-headed gulls. There's usually more common gulls on the primary school field by the park, it's less built-up round there which seems to suit them better. Back in the dark ages when I was a tiny tot and those fields were home to skylarks, hares and partridges, the common gulls easily outnumbered the other gulls two or three to one.

A Christmas parrot

Ring-necked parakeet

The past couple of weeks there's been a ring-necked parakeet making a racket and I've wondered where it was. About once a week four fly by in formation heading for the Mersey Valley from who knows where but this single bird seems to be a fixture. I've looked up in the sky and in treetops to no avail.

It turns out that its favourite calling perch is the 4G telephone mast on the other side of the railway.

Etherow Country Park

Mandarin ducks

It still didn't feel like December. The robins and collared doves were billing and cooing and although it was a grey and cloudy day it was still mild. Mind you that wind had an edge to it. Only the length of the daylight and the colours of the landscape betrayed the month: there are greens and rusts and inky dark browns unique to this month, either because of the light or their being obscured by the other colours of the year. That peach overtone to the sky will soon be succeeded by that January mixture of cerulean blue, acid lemon yellow and vermillion I can never quite capture in photographs or paintings.

I'd had a seriously bad night's sleep where I sincerely considered giving it up and getting up at five with a view to a five and a half hour journey out to North Wales to try and add the bufflehead at Foryd Bay to my life list. In the event it was as well I didn't as it had done a runner overnight. A visit to Marshside was a more sensible option but I dozed off and missed the train out. 

Mute cygnet

Tufted duck

So I went over to Etherow Country Park to have a look at the mandarin ducks and see if I'd have any more luck with dippers than I've had the rest of the year. 

River Etherow 

The river was riding high and fast, too fast for the comfort of dippers, ducks or wagtails. The mandarins were all loafing amongst the drowned willows on the mill pool.

Mandarin duck and mallard

Mandarin ducks

Keg Wood 

I had a quarter of an hour's dip into Keg Wood, my knees weren't up to the rollercoaster ride and it was very quiet so nothing tempted me to push on further.

Keg Wood 

Etherow Country Park 

Pennington Flash

Black-headed gull

The morning's errands done I decided to take advantage of a ridiculously mild and sunny day for a visit to Pennington Flash.

As we were stuck at traffic lights on the way to the Trafford Centre, where I caught the 126 to Leigh, I watched two skeins of pink-footed geese flying low, side by side, over  Trafford Retail Park. There were thirty-nine birds in all, twenty in one skein and nineteen in the other, and I wondered if these were some of the birds I was seeing and hearing on Chat Moss the other day.

Walking in from St Helens Road

I got the bus to Leigh and waited a lot longer than usual for the 610 to Pennington Flash. I was barely through the entrance on St Helens Road when I bumped into the first mixed tit flock of the visit — just blue tits and great tits — as it shared a length of hawthorn hedge with the first mixed flock  of redwings and blackbirds of the afternoon. I'd be seeing plenty of both over the next couple of hours.

Mistletoe
I was struck by how many large mistletoe plants there are in the treetops, They've had a good year, there were only a few big plants here this time last year.

Lunchtime at Pennington Flash 

The park was, inevitably, very busy. I should have visited at the beginning of the month but at least I had the sense to avoid the period between Boxing Day and the New Year. For the most part it wasn't a problem, except for the family that decided it would be a fun thing to spend ten minutes having a kids' tree-climbing competition next to the Tom Edmondson Hide, and they got bored in the end so the kids took the grown-ups for a cup of tea.

Pochards and black-headed gulls

The car park was busy with Canada geese and black-headed gulls with a few mallards, coots and moorhens. Offshore rafts of a couple of dozen each of pochards and tufted ducks drifted about with a few goldeneyes further out on the flash. It was still only lunchtime but the sun was low and a few dozen large gulls loafed midwater. It looked equal numbers of lesser black-backs and herring gulls, I only found the one great black-back. The great crested grebes took some finding and there weren't many of them.

Lapwings and black-headed gulls 

At the Horrocks Hide the spit was half-covered in water. Mallards, black-headed gulls and lapwings loafed and preened, coots bustled about and woodpigeons bathed at the water's edge. There were only a couple of lesser black-backs at the end of the spit and no herring gulls though there was the usual complement of cormorants drying their wings. A heron loafed on one of the islands and way over, near Ramsdales Hide, a great white egret stalked the banks. It's only last year I added great white egret to my Greater Manchester list and now I'm coming to expect them. A burst of noise told me there was an oystercatcher about and it eventually bustled its way out of a crowd of lapwings.

Coot
There must be huge numbers of freshwater mussels in the flash because there's nearly always at least one coot with a big cluster of them in its beak.

Lapwings, black-headed gulls and common gull (fifth gull from the left)

At the Tom Edmondson Hide 

At the Tom Edmondson Hide the gadwalls, shovelers and mallards were paired up and it was the teals' turn to be gathering in groups in corners of the pool whistling and bobbing their heads at the ladies.

Little egret 

I got a closer view of the great white egret from Ramsdales Hide. Even closer was a little egret dancing in the mud just in front of the hide. The sun was low and directly facing me so the mallards, shovelers, teals and cormorants crowding on the islands that are usually the bund between Ramsdales and Horrocks spit were dark grey shadowy ghosts.

Great white egret 

A family of very small kids came into the hide, giddy and noisy on a day out in the sunshine. They quickly settled down when I pointed out the little egret and let each have a borrow of the binoculars (with me and their mum hovering over to make sure they didn't point them at the sun). In my experience kids quickly settle down and become quietly interested when you let them join in. Unlike some grown-ups you meet some days with all the kit.

Little egret 

Walking round to the Charlie Owen Hide 

I wandered up to the canal then looped down through the woodland to the Charlie Owen Hide. A family of long-tailed tits bouncing about in a willow came as a bit of a relief, they'd been absent in the mixed tit flocks up to then. A song thrush bustled about by the side of the path; robins, wrens and dunnocks fidgeted about in the undergrowth; while blackbirds and redwings gorged on hawthorn berries. There were scarcely any finches about, a couple of chaffinches and a goldfinch. 

There was a new water hazard on the golf course

The water was high at the Charlie Owen Hide and the pool was busy with gadwalls, shovelers and dabchicks, the dabchicks being particularly noisy.

Heading for the Bunting Hide 

The Bunting Hide was quiet, a few moorhens pottered about while great tits and blue tits fed on the feeders, and chaffinches and reed buntings did hit and run raids on the bird tables before disappearing into the bushes.

I don't know if this is the car park oystercatcher or a car park oystercatcher. 

I checked the time and made tracks for the bus back to Leigh. I wondered if the couple sitting on a bench realised there was an oystercatcher fossicking about under it.

At Ramsdales Hide