Martin Mere

Cattle and cattle egret

It had been a night of nice dreams and I was in the market for more of the same but I thought I'd best try and make something of another fine day. I had a day out walking the long way into Martin Mere from New Lane and getting the teatime train home from Burscough Bridge.

A male sparrowhawk was display-soaring high over the house as I left for the station. On the journey out to New Lane I saw a few buzzards and kestrels in the fields by the tracks and a pair of sparrowhawks soared around each other as we chugged through Salford Crescent, and they were the only birds of prey I saw all day. Remarkably, I didn't see any on my walk, which is more unlikely in the circumstances than my claiming to have seen an albatross but there we are.

By New Lane Station 

New Lane Station was a cacophony of bird song. A blackcap sang from a garden with a robin and some house sparrows, a couple of blackbirds, woodpigeons and a chiffchaff from the trees across the line and a wren and a whitethroat from the trackside bushes.

There were no hirundines about despite the clouds of midges I was walking through. A few black-headed gulls and magpies flew about the water treatment works while a pair of oystercatchers called from the filtration pans. On that side of the track whitethroats sang by the trackside one every hundred yards, alternating with Cetti's warblers most of the way. On my side of the track there were a couple more whitethroats and a couple of singing linnets in the hedgerows and a skylark sang high over the fields. Most of the butterflies were large whites with a couple of peacocks.

Stonechat 

Crossing the line I pretended not to notice where the stonechats had their nest and allowed the male to lead me away from it down the path. I took a photo to reassure us both I knew nothing of the nest and the female taking food to it.

The walk around the exterior of the reedbeds was very busy with birds, butterflies and people. I kept bumping into a large walking group, every time I thought they'd gone on well ahead I'd turn a corner and they were there. They were friendly enough, though.

Walking between the reedbeds (left) and the water treatment works (right)

The bases of the hedgerows were bustling with large whites, speckled woods, brimstones and peacocks. The hedgerows themselves were busy with singing blackcaps and chiffchaffs while robins, wrens and titmice mostly went about their business quietly. Unlike the magpies, woodpigeons and the constant traffic of black-headed gulls overhead. The calling of greylags, Canada geese and lapwings from the reedbeds was a constant background noise. The sedge warblers and Cetti's warblers singing in the rank vegetation behind the hedgerow gave way to the reed warblers and Cetti's warblers in the reedbeds proper. Coots, mallards, gadwalls and dabchicks bobbed about in the pools I passed by.

By the reedbeds

The clouds rolled in and the air felt heavy and ready for rain that never came. I headed for the road, marveling at the concrete-like set of the usually vicious mud. (Yes, vicious not viscous, I've walked on it.) A crowd of mallards and a pair of shelducks dawdled on the field as I walked by.

Black-headed gulls 

First stop at Martin Mere was the Discovery Hide and a sit down. The crowds of waterfowl had moved on leaving behind handfuls of mallards, shovelers and teal. The gravel in front of the hide was covered in pigeons and nesting black-headed gulls. Nests were also spaced out fairly evenly across the islands and rafts across the mere leaving space between for partners to land and settle by sitting birds. The odd-looking brown bird at one end of an island turned out to be a gull that had a fine collection of goose feathers lining its nest. It didn't get to keep them all: a neighbouring bird reached over to pinch a feather and in the ensuing squabble a third bird walked over and stole a couple. While it was doing that one of its neighbours relieved its nest of a couple of twigs. I scanned about hoping for my first Mediterranean gull of the year — there's usually a pair somewhere in this colony — but it wasn't my day for it.

Black-headed gulls 

I thought the black-tailed godwits had all left but I found half a dozen over on the far side of the mere with a couple of ruffs and a dozen oystercatchers. Standing away from them, amongst some black-headed gulls, a very slightly larger wader was busy preening and it was a couple of minutes before it straightened itself up and I could see the bent bill confirming it as a whimbrel. Nearly all the lapwings were out on the fields, a couple fossicked about the islands with a few redshanks. A couple of dozen avocets bobbed about in pairs on the open water shrimping as they went. I thought that was the lot for waders then noticed a little ringed plover, dwarfed by the mallards it was skittering about between.

Cuckoo pint

The path down to the Ron Barker Hide was noisy with robins, blackbirds and song thrushes interspersed with chiffchaffs, great tits and goldfinches. The rather lovely soft song with echoes of curlew about it turned out to be a bronze-winged duck in the duckery.

Black-headed gulls 

The black-headed gulls on the pools at the Ron Barker Hide were unhappy at the arrival of a great black-back which settled down at the water's edge. A few ruffs and avocets kept their distance from it. The herd of longhorns were lying down in the long grass, the attendant cattle egrets bobbing up and down from view as they walked across them. There were a couple of cows grazing with the Canada geese further out and half a dozen more cattle egrets fussed about their hooves. A pair of roe deer on the bank of the drain leading away from the hide was a nice surprise.

Great black-back and black-headed gull

Heading back I felt unaccountably tired, and not just because the weather had become an headachy, heavy armpit. I limited myself to having a quick look at the mere from the screens, adding a couple of arctic terns to the year list.

Corn bunting 

Walking down to Burscough Bridge I was delighted when a corn bunting jumped up from the hedge by Brandeth Barn to sing from the telephone wires. A swallow twittered from the wires at the corner of Curlew Lane.

Swallow

I got to Crabtree Lane, noticed I had forty minutes for the next train to Manchester so took a detour and walked down the lane. For some reason I've never done this before, whenever I've taken the path across from Marsh Moss Road I've crossed the lane and carried on into Burscough Bridge. So this time I walked down the lane to the railway then followed the path by the line into the station. The rooks that nest at the station were very busy in the fields and took no notice at all as I passed closely by

Rook with plenty in the throat pouch to take back to the nest

I got to the station with ten minutes to spare and was glad of the sit down when the train arrived. I'd made a long day of it and had been more than adequately rewarded for it. When I got home I had a late tea, said hello to the cat and went to bed.