First quarter review

Whooper swans, Martin Mere 

It was a slow start to 2025. The New Year brought floods and a cold snap which made birdwatching both hazardous and uninviting. The record flooding on the Mersey Valley put the block on most of the local sites and a peculiarity of the weather lead to my having to go North to avoid treacherously icy walking conditions.

Oystercatchers, Meols

Things settled down mid-January to the milder eternal twilights that have become our Winter norm and the birdwatching settled into a routine. The routine being that I'd go out, see lots of birds and dip on whatever it was I'd gone out to see, with a few notable exceptions. But then I've added the shore lark at Oglet to my life list and the year list so far includes Kumlein's gull, black redstart, ferruginous duck, red-necked grebe, surf scoter, hooded crow, spoonbill, spotted redshank, ring-necked duck, green-winged teal, red-crested pochard, great northern diver… okay, perhaps I'm not doing so bad after all. 

It was a Winter thin on fieldfares, geese and warblers for some reason, I can't spot an obvious reason why. Of course, if birdwatching was predictable there'd be no fun in the doing of it.

Bullfinches, Leighton Moss 

Spring came early to late February, which again is becoming the norm, and the chiffchaffs started singing ridiculously early in March. In fact, I'd been unlucky not to see a February sand martin, there were individuals flying by everywhere except where I'd happen to be on a given day, a condition that prevailed throughout March, too.

Black-headed gulls and herring gull, Pennington Flash 

Totals so far for the year by recording areas:

• Greater Manchester 89
• Cheshire and Wirral 88
• Cumbria 48
• Denbighshire 32
• Derbyshire 41
• Flintshire 29
• Lancashire and North Merseyside 118
• Yorkshire 56

The year list is currently a nice round 150.

I've managed to visit a few new places and there are a lot of places I didn't get round to visiting and it's keeping me out of mischief. So that's all right then.

Pink-footed geese, Crossens Marsh

St Aidens

Black-necked grebe and black-headed gulls 

I was feeling tired and jaded so I thought I'd have a bit of novelty. I got the train out to Castleford for an afternoon wander round the lakes and reedbeds at St Aiden's. I've got some "go anywhere on the Northern network free" tickets burning a hole in my pocket, with more to come, but decided not to use them today as it added an hour to the travelling time either way, I can use them on some other jaunts into Yorkshire. 

I got the 141 bus to Fleet Lane in Methley, which turned out to be more complicated than anticipated when we had to wait at the bus station for a replacement bus as the one that pulled in had broken down then I had a panic when two stops before my destination the bus reversed down the road, did a three point turn and headed off in the other direction, which turned out to be due to a diversion for roadworks.

Greylags, Methley Lane 

I got off and crossed over. A mixed flock of greylags and Canada geese were grazing on the field by the road.

I walked down Station Road, crossed the railway and went through the little cut taking me to the banks of the Aire where the first of the many invisible Cetti's warblers of the day was singing by the bridge. I crossed over and was in St Aidens.

River Aire

It was a first time visit for me. I had a look at the map and decided my best bet was to carry on straight ahead, go over the causeway across the main lake then swing round for the reedbeds to the North and West and loop round back to the bridge and decide then what I had left in time and legs for further exploration.

Approaching the causeway

Black-headed gulls, goosanders and gadwalls on the main lake

Walking up the road I'd been seeing and hearing lots of black-headed gulls. In the short time I reached the lake the noise had ratcheted up more than somewhat. There were hundreds of them on the lake, mostly paired up and many busy courting and nest-building. Lots of mallards flew about but it was mostly gadwalls and tufted ducks on the open water. A few teal dozed and squabbled at the edges of reedbeds, a handful of goosanders were asleep on an island, there were a lot of coots and a few herring gulls and lesser black-backs loafed to one side. I was walking through clouds of midges but there was no sign of any hirundines about to mop them up.

Black-headed gulls 

Gadwall

The sun had emerged from the thin cloud and it was becoming a warm Spring day. I wandered round, the big lake giving way to smaller, connected pools girt with gorse and reeds. There were fewer black-headed gulls and more ducks. I could hear the hinneying of dabchicks — I managed to see a pair later in the afternoon — and was tripping over Cetti's warblers every five minutes. Scanning the pools I could see great crested grebes cruising about then I saw my first black-necked grebe of the year.

Black-headed gulls, great crested grebe and coots

Coot, black-necked grebe and black-headed gulls 

Black-necked grebe and black-headed gulls 

Scarce fifty yards further along a pool held about a dozen black-necked grebes, all of them strikingly backlit. They didn't seem remotely bothered by us people stopping to stare at them. One, barely ten yards away, was making a start on nest-building, diving and bringing up bits of muddy vegetation that it patted down onto a tiny mound protruding from some thin reeds.

This black-necked grebe was busy nest-building, diving down for bits of muddy reed to pile up on the little mound by its side.

Other black-necked grebes were busy courting. One pair had me puzzled before I realised it was an adult and a first-Winter bird.

Black-necked grebes and great crested grebes 
This pair of black-necked grebes looked to be an adult and a first-Winter bird.

I'd heard there was a long-staying Slavonian grebe about and wondered if I'd manage to see it. Left to my own devices I wouldn't have. Luckily a chap noticed I was scouring round and asked if I'd seen it. He put me on to it though it took an embarrassingly long time, I just wasn't seeing it. It didn't help that it was spending a lot of time underwater but that's no excuse for not seeing something all of nine feet away in thin reeds. I finally clocked it and apologised for being such a slow study. I've only ever seen Slavonian grebes in Winter plumage and nearly all from a distance so frustrating as it was it was good to see the dark head and the emerging golden plumes that have the Americans calling it horned grebe.

The Slavonian grebe was being awkward

Great crested grebes and black-necked grebe 

Western reedbeds 

I carried on walking round to the noise of black-headed gulls, Cetti's warblers and greylag geese and the occasional wittering calls of passing oystercatchers. Then I heard the bittern.

St Aidens 

I followed the path round to where it meets Swillington Ings. Nearby to one side there was a booming bittern, to the other there were duelling Cetti's warblers in the pathside gorse bushes, I gave up trying to see either and just enjoyed the sound, the bittern's boom reverberating in my bones as the warblers' explosions of song drowned out the background. 

Black-headed gulls

I followed the curve round and found a colony of hundreds of black-headed gulls on a small lake. It was almost standing room only as a few oystercatchers and lapwings tiptoed their ways past them. Much to my surprise I noticed a female tufted duck sitting on a nest slap in the middle of the crowd. I guess hiding in plain sight with the protection of a mass of easily-triggered gulls is as good as hiding away somewhere under cover. 

Further along the path left the pools and lakes and curved through open woodland and scrub roughly parallel with the  river on the other side of the embankment. Chiffchaffs, robins and great tits sang and there was a reassuringly lengthy stretch of song from a willow warbler in some birch scrub.

Walking back from the reedbeds

I arrived back where I started, feeling the heat a bit as I'd dressed for the morning not the afternoon. I checked the bus and train times and decided to call it a day. I walked back to Methley Road and got to the bus stop just as the next bus arrived and only had quarter of an hour to wait for the Manchester train. I've added yet another to the "must visit again" list.

I had ten minutes to wait for the train home from Oxford Road. I spent it in the company of a grey wagtail that was skittering about on the wall opposite platform five.

Grey wagtail, Manchester Oxford Road Station 

Pennington Flash

Coot, tufted ducks and goosanders 

It was a cool, grey and windy day but I thought I'd best get yesterday's planned walk under my boots and get some movement back into the joints. Yesterday I got as far as the Trafford Centre bus station asked myself what's the point and sloped off home despite the fact the 126 had just pulled in. I had rather more excuse for it today, by the time the 132 I had aimed for after missing the 126 while waiting for the 25 had arrived the next 126 had turned up. The 126 is an hourly service and travel on our buses on a Saturday can be as complicated as that last sentence. We'll draw a veil over Sundays.

Walking by Bradshaw Leach Meadow

I'd intended visiting Pennington Flash earlier this month but the St Helens Road pedestrian entrance was closed while they sorted out the paths. I won't miss bitching about the state of the mudhole. They've done a nice job of it and didn't make a mess of the verges in the process. The robins, wrens and great tits in the hedgerows were occupied with business as usual on a cool Spring day.

Mute swan 

Mallards

There was rain in the air which wasn't stopping people taking their dogs and kids for a walk or feeding the ducks. Most of the mallards were otherwise engaged elsewhere though one gang of drake mallards was otherwise engaged with an unlucky duck in the car park. Mallards are not gentle and attentive lovers. There were still plenty of black-headed gulls about, I noticed that a large proportion were first-Winter birds. Out in the middle of the flash, keeping away from the sailing regatta, there was a raft of a few dozen large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs. There were slightly fewer coots out on the open water, a large raft of tufted ducks cruised the far bank amid a lot of head-bobbing, and a pair of great crested grebes courted by the bank. I looked in vain for goldeneyes or pochards, they've moved on, and the cool weather scotched any hopes I might have of sand martins hawking over the flash.

Great crested grebes a-courting
None of them were giving close views today.

The wind howled through the F.W.Horrocks Hide. At first sight the spit looked almost deserted, the flock of woodpigeons merging with the grass in the gloom. It was similarly difficult to pick up the lapwings at the end of the spit and even the Canada geese weren't very conspicuous. Half a dozen cormorants loafed at the end with a group of herring gulls, a small raft of herring gulls drifted about the channel.

Horrocks Spit: lapwings, Canada geese, cormorants, herring gulls and woodpigeons on the spit, herring gulls and mute swans in the channel

The black-headed gulls were occupying nesting rafts and quarreling noisily. They made sure to make any approaching large gull or cormorant very unwelcome. I could see a few teal and gadwall in the bight and a raft of a couple of dozen great crested grebes was obviously waiting for the sailing regatta to pack up and go home.

Mute swan and coot

Singing chiffchaffs were few and far between, probably put off by the weather. It didn't put off the robins, great tits and blackbirds and they were drowned out by a song thrush singing in a willow tree. There wasn't a lot of evidence of nest-building yet as I walked from the Horrocks Hide to the Tom Edmondson Hide but a mute swan was already occupying a nest on Pengy's Pool. Luckily it was asleep otherwise a coot busily pinching sticks from the nest would have had a beating.

Coots are lunatics so I ought not to be surprised by one stealing nesting materials from a sitting mute swan.

At the Tom Edmondson Hide 

The shrubs at the side of the Tom Edmondson Hide have been cut back a lot to improve visibility. It's a bit of a shock at first sight, the view's quite different. A few gadwalls, coots and Canada geese pottered about. I'd seen three herons fly off as I was approaching.

Oystercatchers and teal

Ramsdales was quietly busy. A couple of dozen teal dozed and dabbled, a few mallards and Canada geese slept on the island. A couple of pairs of oystercatchers were quite noisy as they rummaged about in the grass, a handful of redshanks were uncharacteristically quiet. I was feeling optimistic despite myself so I had a look for garganey or any of ringed plover or little ringed plover and wasn't desperately surprised not to find any. An odd looking rock at the back of an island caught my eye then it moved and proved to be the top of a snipe's head, confirmed when it obligingly took a step back and yawned.

Walking round to the Charlie Owen Hide 
The hawthorns are in leaf and the sycamores and maples in flower.

It was raining properly as I walked up to the canal and followed the path round to the Charlie Owen Hide. Singing birds were few and far between, mostly robins and great tits with a sprinkling of blackbirds, wrens and another song thrush. Blue tits and long-tailed tits rummaged about in the hawthorn hedgerows, woodpigeons and goldfinches bounced about in the treetops. I reached a clearing leading to some steps to the canal and a pair of buzzards glided silently out of a sycamore and deep into the trees.

Shovelers

Three goosanders dozed amongst the tufted ducks, coots and shovelers on the pool at the Charlie Owen Hide. I'd been surprised not to have seen or heard any dabchicks so far but was confident I'd see a pair here and was dead wrong.

Walking along the path by the golf course I heard what I would unquestionably assume would be a willow warbler if I heard it in April or May. It took a second hearing of the minute scratch of song it was trying out to convince me this time.

Walking back for the bus

The Bunting Hide and Pengy's Hide had been locked up for the night so I sloped off for the bus back into Leigh. A lot more herring gulls had joined the raft of large gulls spreading out across the flash now the yachts were back in dock. A female goldeneye in the middle of a raft of tufties was one last reminder of Winter.

Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit

It was forecast to be the last reliably fine day for a while so I thought I'd best get that walk to and around Martin Mere done as that usually involves four or five hours walking out in the open with little cover. It was a bright, mostly sunny day and would have been warm had it not been for a cold wind that got stronger as they say went on. On the plus side it was that wind keeping the rain clouds at bay.

New Lane Station 

I got off the train at New Lane and joined the trackside path. The robins took a breather and in the sudden quiet I could hear two sets of jangling key songs: a dunnock in the hedgerow on the other side of the track and a corn bunting over on the other side of the field. My first corn bunting of the year. I only heard my first yellowhammer of the year this week and it's four days short of being two years since I last saw a tree sparrow at Martin Mere. Corn buntings, yellowhammers, tree sparrows, there's something desperately wrong happening in the farmed landscape though I can't see that anything has much changed round here that might explain it. It's probably incremental small stresses with a collapse at a tipping point.

Oystercatchers in their natural environment 

Lapwings were stationed across fields, a pair of oystercatchers held court in the water treatment works. I had a blast of nostalgia when a Cetti's warbler burst into song from the reedy scrub between the filtration pans and the railway lines. High over the railway line a pair of buzzards saw off a third that had drifted into their territory. A pair of stock doves flew by in very close formation, wingtips almost touching. The hint that Spring might be in the air was confirmed by a couple of peacock butterflies dashing through the path verges.

Buzzard

I crossed the railway and was disappointed not to bump into the pair of stonechats by the now-collapsed derelict shed. They may have been keeping a low profile as the buzzards were circling over. A marsh harrier kept floating this way as well and it finally flew straight across at treetop height and over the water treatment works.

Martin Mere 

The hedgerows by the path around the outside of the Martin Mere reedbeds were busy with small birds mostly silently going about their business. Chaffinches, reed buntings, great tits and blue tits rummaged around, wrens, robins and chiffchaffs sang. I expected more chiffchaffs, to be frank, especially after the masses I've been bumping into this past week.

Brimstone 

The peacock butterflies had woken up, I didn't walk far without having one fly past. A brimstone butterfly was busy feeding on dandelions as I passed it, another was resting by the path. I took a look by the water treatment works, there was just a singing robin there, the insects buzzing round the gorse and blackthorn flowers are probably easier pickings than the midges on the pans.

Greylag 

On the other side of the hedge Canada geese and greylags grazed in the fields, shelducks, mallards and black-headed gulls drifted about on the pools and lapwings flew to and fro. I looked in vain for any sign of the longhorn cattle and the inevitable cattle egrets accompanying them.

Peacock

I tiptoed round peacock butterflies, spent a while trying to find either of the Cetti's warblers duelling in the reeds less than three yards away from me and had as little luck finding the pair of dabchicks hinneying in the reedbed not so very much further away.

Walking by the reedbeds
There's a Cetti's warbler by that gate.

Walking from the reedbeds to the road I passed pairs of gadwall and mallards in the drain and shelducks on the field. Goldfinches and robins sang in the hedgerows by the path to the car park and there was the constant noise of the white storks clapping their bills in the enclosure just beyond.

At the Discovery Hide 

I went straight to the Discovery Hide for a sit down and a look round, probably in that order. Most of the black-tailed godwits in front of the hide were moulting out of their Winter greys, a couple were resplendently copper brown. The whoopers had gone, bar a couple asleep on the far bank, and there were only half a dozen wigeons. It took a long time to find any ducks that weren't mallards or shelducks, beside the wigeon there were handfuls of shovelers, tufted ducks and gadwalls. 

Black-tailed godwit 

Black-tailed godwits 

Black-tailed godwits 

There were a lot of black-headed gulls and a lot of nest-building and robbing of nest-building materials going on, adding to their already raucous soundscape.

Way over by the far bank where oystercatchers loafed in the company of cormorants and greylags half a dozen avocets swam in the shallows catching midges off the water's surface or skimming their beaks underwater for shrimps.

Snowdrops by the Raines Observatory 

The Hale Hide and the Kingfisher Hide as was were both quiet. The Ron Barker Hide was quiet by its lights, a couple of dozen each of teal and shovelers and a dozen avocets. A little egret lurked down the far end of the drain, Canada geese grazed on the bank. A male marsh harrier made an appearance carrying some unidentifiable something and dropped down into the reeds. A couple of moments later a female marsh harrier rose from someplace nearby and circled the pool. Oddly the Canada geese took more of a fright than the ducks or avocets.

Teal

A very distant marsh harrier 

The walk back to the visitor centre was quiet. I headed over to the Janet Kear Hide where the chaffinches, goldfinches and great tits were busy on the feeders and the mallards frisky on the pool.

Chaffinch 

Marsh marigold 

United Utilities Hide 

I didn't have the time or energy for a circuit of the reedbed walk but I felt I should at least have a quick look. I walked past the team building the new path to the United Utilities Hide, which looked good, and wandered over to the Rees Hide. Along the way I found the longhorn cattle, by accident as I was watching a great white egret flying between pools. They were a couple of fields distant and mostly obscured by reeds, I only saw any cattle egrets because a couple flew up and over the back one of the cattle and disappeared out of sight. The pool at the Rees Hide was heavily littered with shovelers, teal and avocets.

Pink-footed geese 

I walked back quickly with an eye on the closing time on the gates. A skein of pink-footed geese, a scant couple of dozen, flew into the fields behind the reedbeds. I had enough time to take a minute at the Harrier Hide where a raft of a couple of dozen gadwall cruised about amongst the coots and Canada geese.

Shelducks 

The wind was raw on the walk over to Burscough Bridge. The first common gull I've seen for a few days joined the crowd of black-headed gulls following the plough in the field behind Brandeth Barn. Half a dozen shelducks were fussing round each other in the field by the road here. A dozen starlings congregated on the telegraph pole on the bend, it's their favourite spot though I can't really see why. A couple of fields away the lapwings were putting the beach towels down on their favoured spots in the barley fields. Ridiculously I was disappointed not to see cattle egrets in the paddocks near Crabtree Lane.

Starlings

Winter Hill

I got the train back to Manchester, missed the very tenuous connection with the train home (the Southport train has to wait for the Warrington train to leave Oxford Road and arrive at Deansgate before it's allowed to go and take its place on platform 5 so if you're lucky you can sprint between platforms at Deansgate and get it, I didn't have a sprint in me) but I got to the bus stop with eight minutes to spare for the next bus which arrived three-quarters of an hour later.