Martin Mere

Mallard

Despite a bad night's sleep I was up and out for the train to Burscough Bridge and a walk down to Martin Mere and, probably due to a bad night's sleep, I had a 'phone that hadn't charged up properly, a back-up battery that had done similar and a lunch that was still in the fridge. It was going to be one of those days but it turned out that the birdwatching was in good form even if I wasn't.

Rooks

It was still August quiet on the train journey though the hundred or more black-headed gulls on the wet fields outside Parbold hinted at a change of season. I walked down Red Cat Lane from the station, brooding black clouds on one side of the road, sunshine on the other. The cool, brisk wind was sending the clouds away so the gardens of Preston could get a drop of rain. The fields were busy with small flocks, rather than crowds, of woodpigeons, jackdaws and rooks rummaging about in the stubble. Swallows skimmed low over the stubble as I walked past. There were more around the farmhouse at the corner of Curlew Lane with rather a lot more house martins. There was no sign of any wagtails of any kind, a robin was singing from the top of the barn they usually favour.

Curlew Lane 

On a whim I walked halfway up Curlew Lane looking for wagtails. There were a couple of pied wagtails with the lapwings, rooks and goldfinches on the ploughed field to the East, just crows and house martins on the stubble to the West. It didn't look like any birds at all were interested in the hay harvest beyond. I wasn't expecting to see any dragonflies about so a common darter patroling the grass verge was a nice surprise. A buzzard drifted low over the fields and headed over towards Crabtree Lane with absolutely no reaction at all from the assembled bird life. 

The Pennines from Curlew Road

Collared dove

I walked back and carried on down to Martin Mere. It might be August but the collared doves and woodpigeons had Spring fever, if they weren't feeding in the fields they were singing and billing and cooing on chimney pots.

Arriving at Martin Mere I went straight to the Discovery Hide for a nosy at the mere. I couldn't see many mallards on the near bank at first sight for the simple reason that they had cosied up to the hide out of the wind, I had to look down, not out. Scanning round there were lots more mallards huddled together on the leeward sides of all the islands. A handful of shovelers dabbled by the far bank, a gadwall loafed on one of the islands, all the shelducks were still in their moulting flocks on the Mersey and Ribble. Most of the noise was provided by Canada geese, greylags and the sprinkling of black-headed gulls. A couple of recently-fledged juvenile gulls were particularly noisy. There weren't many waders about, just a few lapwings and a couple of ruffs on the far bank. I popped into the Raines Observatory on the way to Ron Barker's hoping to see more waders at that end of the mere and finding none at all.

A mixed tit flock in the conifers by the Raines Observatory was mostly blue tits with a few great tits, chiffchaffs and goldcrests.

Red admiral

I walked down to the Ron Barker Hide, the elderberries in the hedgerows being devoured by woodpigeons and the fallen apples in the path near the Hale Hide providing a feast for a crowd of red admiral butterflies. Besides nearly treading on some mallard ducklings I didn't encounter many birds along the way.

At the Ron Barker Hide 

Things looked quiet at the Ron Barker Hide. In the distance a digger was clearing out a land drain and making quite a noise about it. There weren't crowds of birds, a couple of dozen teal dabbling in the remaining pool, Canada geese grazing, lapwings and woodpigeons flying by. Marsh harriers drifted about the reedbeds, including a female doing a food pass to an almost identical juvenile (some of the flight feathers looked greyer). At one point one of the harriers drifted close to the pool and all the teal panicked their way into the centre of the pool and quacked and whistled to keep their spirits up. A wader flew into the reed fringes and lurked on the bank of the pool for a few minutes. It had a curlew-like vibe as it flew in, though it was half the size. Wood sandpipers and green sandpipers can look similar from a distance when they're walking round but in flight wood sandpipers remind me of curlews, green sandpipers remind me of house martins.

Cuckoo pint

I walked back, adding a very noisy coal tit and some very quiet chaffinches to the day's tally. A party of long-tailed tits bounced through the trees by the duckery. I felt a bit low on waders and a lot low on songbirds so I decided to have another look at the mere, see what was on the feeders at the Janet Kear Hide and have a nosy at the reedbed hides, assuming there was any water in the pools there. I was feeling the lack of sleep and something had the hayfever kicking in but I was feeling bloody-minded and sleepwalked on.

The Mere

It was only when I looked at the mere from the screens where the Swan Link Hide used to be that I realised how low the water was. Everything was far away, even the black-headed gulls and moorhens.

The feeders at the Janet Kear Hide were being monopolised by blue tits and great tits though to be fair it didn't look like anything else could be bothered trying to muscle in on them.

Cattle and cattle egrets

The reason why the hayfever was kicking in was the mowing of the hay fields by the reedbeds. I decided to give that a miss. The new, remodeled United Utilities Hide looks remarkably similar to the old United Utilities Hide but a bit sounder in structure. I sat for a bit hoping to find the first pink-feet of Autumn out on the rough pastures but could only find Canada geese and greylags, and they distant. Everything was distant. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realise that the bright white legs on some of the grazing cattle were actually cattle egrets.

The pool at the Harrier Hide is a bit deeper than most so I headed that way to see what ducks were on there. It was standing room only and a bit more in the hide, a huge edifice with very limited internal space and even more limited space usable for birdwatching. Which was frustrating because even from three rows behind I could see a dozen ruffs running about amongst the lapwings and mallards scant yards away from the hide. I gave it a couple of minutes and gave up on it and spent a few minutes watching the Southern hawkers patrolling the margins of the amphitheatre outside the hide.

Winter Hill from Red Cat Lane

I walked back to Burscough Bridge. House martins and swallows zipped low over the fields. Collared doves and woodpigeons sang. Goldfinches and greenfinches twittered. A grey partridge flew low over the stubble field at the bend of the round after Curlew Lane and disappeared into the rough grass in the corner. Jackdaws and rooks made noises in distant fields.

By Crabtree Lane 

On a whim I walked down Crabtree Lane and down the trackside footpath to the station. It's a nice walk, though so deathly quiet today I could hear the passing butterflies. My 'phone being dead I didn't have the time but thought I should get to the station about five minutes before the next train. That element of uncertainty isn't what you want as you walk by the trackside, especially as there's fifty yards of fence between the platform and the entrance to the station from the footpath. I barged through at a fast limp, leaving a lot of irritated blackbirds and red admiral butterflies in my wake. And had eight minutes to wait for the train.

The odd thing was that for all it seemed to have been a very quiet day's birdwatching I'd racked up a tally of fifty species and added wood sandpiper to the year list.

Mosses

Swallow, Barton Moss

The weather forecast at 4am had it that it was going to be a grey day, a quick check at half eight told me it was going to be heaving down all day. It was a bright, sunny morning and the forecast had been changeable like this all week. I decided I'd play safe and go for a walk on the Salford mosses rather than do the planned hillwalking.

The aim was to see if there were any passage migrants about. Late August is a good time for picking up on spotted flycatchers, redstarts and tree pipits, all of which I missed on Spring migration. Autumn migration's a more leisurely affair so there's a bit more of a chance of my striking lucky. The downside is that this time of the year they're quietly going about their business and there's a lot more leaf cover for them to hide in.

Barton Moss Road 

I'd not walked Barton Moss this year so I got the 67 bus from Irlam to Barton Moss Road and walked up to the moss. House martins were still feeding young in nests on the farmhouse while more of them hawked low over the horses in the field behind. The hedgerows were busy with robins and goldfinches and there was a steady traffic of squadrons of woodpigeons overhead. There was more about going unidentified, shadows of small birds disappearing into the depths of hawthorn bushes. A couple of great tits couldn't help themselves and betrayed their presence with their calls. Approaching the motorway I heard the first squeaking chiffchaffs of the afternoon. Large whites fluttered about in the undergrowth and a Southern hawker was patrolling the treetops.

Barton Moss 

Woodpigeons and magpies clattered about in the rough pasture on the left-hand side of the road. A light rain started to fall. A tree pipit saw me but I couldn't see where it was calling from. I had more luck in the field of potatoes next to the motorway as three yellow wagtails flew about before settling in the rough grass in the field margin opposite me.

The motorway bridge

I crossed the motorway and joined Twelve Yards Road, heading West for Chat Moss. The rain front was rolling in and a flock of a few dozen swallows divided its time between hawking low over fields of barley stubble and feeding high on the insects pushed forward by the front. A buzzard floated over the motorway, seen on its way by a kestrel which harassed it until it was well over this side and out of the kestrel's territory. Way over by the railway a flock of black-headed gulls followed a tractor as it turned over a field. A few drifted my way. The excitement of a possible fly-by Mediterranean gull was dashed by its turning out to be a Tesco's carrier bag.

Twelve Yards Road, the M60 on the left

A couple of hawthorn bushes by the motorway were busy with titmice and warblers. It was hard work picking out the runners and riders as they kept to cover and most of the movement in the leaves was caused by the wind and rain. There were speed restrictions on the motorway and the traffic noise drowned out any bird calls that might have helped. Blue tits and a chiffchaff bounced about the bindweed covering the higher branches, great tits and a juvenile whitethroat kept to the depths. I strongly suspect I missed a few somethings.

The long-tailed tits in the next stand of hawthorns and elderberries were a bit more obliging, striking poses on dead branches until the camera came out of the bag. I was putting the camera away when the swallows fell into a mad panic. I didn't spot the young sparrowhawk until its wing grazed my right shoulder as it batted through the hawthorns. Even after the sparrowhawk had gone a couple of young swallows carried on their alarm calls until they realised that nobody else was shouting so I couldn't have been much of a threat.

Twelve Yards Road 

The rain hit and the birdwatching got a lot quieter. The small birds in the hedgerows disappeared into deep cover. The hundreds of woodpigeons and scores of jackdaws carried on feeding in the fields. It looked like Astley and Boothstown were copping for thunder. I have to say, walking under a line of electricity pylons in the rain to the accompaniment of the hiss of rain on the wires and nearby thunder was a tad unnerving.

Barton Moss 

As I approached the junction with Cutnook Lane jays interrupted their gathering of acorns to make rude noises at me. Chiffchaffs squeaked as I walked up the path towards Croxden's Moss and chaffinches hooted with derision when I thought better of it given the weather conditions.

Cutnook Lane 

Just to rub it in, the sun came out as I walked down Cutnook Lane. A couple of mixed tit flocks made themselves  known in the birch scrub. At the bottom of the lane, by the motorway, a lot of turf had been cut from the far end one of the fields, the rectangle of black earth was covered in crows, rooks and lapwings. Pied wagtails flitted about the margins. One of them looked particularly pale, I put it down as a juvenile at first, they can look ghostly pale especially against a very dark background. It flew onto the grass and it was immediately apparent that it wasn't a juvenile and was actually an adult female white wagtail. It's only the past few years I've started spotting white wagtails this time of year. I'm not seeing many, perhaps one or two each Autumn. I don't know if they're becoming more frequent on Autumn passage or if I'm just getting better at noticing them.

I got the 100 back to the Trafford Centre. We passed three each of sunny spells and heavy showers along the way. Only when I was back home and updating my spreadsheet did I realise that the tree pipit made it 200 on the year list, the first time I've got there as early as August. I had it in my head I was struggling this Summer.

Another lazy day

Stretford twilight 

It had been an intense couple of days' birdwatching and I had more planned for the week so I took advantage of a morning's heavy rain for a break. The spadgers made inroads on the sunflower seeds, the magpies cackled in the rowan tree and the robin struck poses along the fence. 

I was relieved to see a blackbird gobbling rowan berries, it's been a quiet August for them. I'm used to the mistle thrushes and song thrushes going missing in August, the blackbirds going AWOL is a new wrinkle.

I nipped out to the station as the sun set to watch the soprano pipistrelle quartering the field. It circled the field at shoulder height barely making a detour to avoid the two girls walking their dogs.

St Aidens

Common tern

It was a warm and sunny and cloudy day and the Met Office had changed its mind about its raining today so I decided to go over to St Aidens to see if the pectoral sandpiper was still about and have a general nosy round.

I got the train to Castleford and the 141 bus from the bus station to Wood Row at the far end of Methley. It should have been a simple walk up Station Road to the bridge over the River Aire and into St Aidens. Unfortunately the work on the level crossing due to be completed at the end of June hadn't been completed so I had to backtrack and follow the paths through the housing estate to the bridge. Irritating though it was at first I only lost quarter of an hour and I've got a better sense of the paths round Methley and a couple of ideas for exploring the bits of St Aidens I've not got round to yet. And it was nice watching swallows feeding their young on the telephone wires.

River Aire

The causeway

Half a dozen migrant hawkers were patrolling the parched vegetation on the other side of the bridge. I headed for the causeway and bumped into a very busy mixed tit flock, the blue tits and long-tailed tits providing all the acrobatics to a chorus of squeaks from the chiffchaffs. Walking down the causeway the squeaks of the chiffchaffs gave way to the rusty hinge calling of common terns on the pools. The pools were littered with coots, black-headed gulls and gadwalls. A few cormorants fished in the water, great crested grebes had large and noisy youngsters to feed and the terns were diving just feet away from where I was standing. I spent a while getting photos of wingtips and blurry cloud formations.

Common tern

Common tern

Common terns
It's easier when they're sat down.

Great crested grebes

Great crested grebes and coot

Mallards and tufted ducks haunted the reed margins. Greylags and Canada geese shouted from more open shores. And there were yet more coots and gadwalls.

Main Lake

Juvenile common tern

I turned into the bridleway crossing the causeway. This gave me a closer look at the terns, including one young juvenile still begging from one of the rafts. The pool on the right side was busy with egrets, a dozen or more little egrets and at least four great white egrets. Some were fishing, most were loafing in the reeds on the islands. There were shovelers and teals amongst the crowds of ducks on these pools. 

Great white egret

Little egrets, mallards and Canada geese
Sometimes you have to.

Snipes, shovelers and lapwing

Snipe, shovelers, coots and Canada geese

Waders fidgeted on the open mud. Most were lapwings and snipe, nearly all the snipe wading up to their thighs as they fed. I noticed a ruff fairly close in, and so did a lapwing which chased it off before I could take a photo. Further out I noticed a couple of redshanks and then there, over on the far side of the pool amongst a bunch of juvenile snipe, all wearing fresh bright braces on their backs, a pectoral sandpiper. Pectoral sandpiper is the only "stray" peep I can identify with any confidence: that abrupt cut from the stripy brown breast and white underparts really stands out.

Cormorants, Canada geese, greylags, mallards, coots, gadwalls and teal

Little egrets and great white egret

Centaury

Small copper

Knapweed

It was a nice afternoon, I'd found my target, I drifted round to see what else might be about. Small coppers, large whites and meadow browns fluttered about the wayside. Bees and hoverflies visited the flowers. Southern hawkers patrolled the vegetation by the bushes, common darters sunned themselves on the path, common demoiselles kept out of the way of both in the waterside grasses. I'd seen some black darters on the causeway as I came in. I bumped into my first ruddy darter of the year as it hunted midges over some overblown Michaelmas daisies. I'd written them off for this year, I'd had no luck in the usual places.

I'm rubbish at umbellifers, I think this is a wild carrot

Lapwing

So far I hadn't seen any birds of prey. A flock of lapwings suddenly rising from the fields beyond made me look round for one. Eventually I spotted the peregrine that had spooked them. It flew high over the pool I was standing by, the lapwings making themselves scarce. A female-type marsh harrier rose from behind the reedbeds behind the pool and flew after the lapwings. The peregrine went for the harrier, stooping and barely missing its target as it lurched out of the way. The harrier was ready for the second attempt and barrel-rolled out of the way, presenting a full set of claws to its attacker. The point had been made, the harrier made an exit and the peregrine circled high over the pool a few times before drifting over to the larger pools.

Peregrine

Peregrine and marsh harrier
First pass.

I walked round to Astley Lake and had a sit down while I had a look round. There were more great white egrets and little egrets. Loafing cormorants shared islands with geese, ducks and lapwings. A Cetti's warbler sang. I'd been sat there at least five minutes before I realised there were ten spoonbills asleep on an island right in front of me.

Spoonbills and teal

Spoombills

St Aidens 

Having had my wake-up call I managed to add some dabchicks and a willow warbler to the day's tally before deciding to start making a move for getting home. On a whim I took the path leading out over the Aire and onto the Aire and Calder Navigation, which was picturesque. I crossed the canal and headed down Fleet Lane, which was less picturesque as it passed under the railway line.

Luckily, there were stepping stones

I've not suffered much from hayfever this year so I noticed it when the sinuses threw a wobbly as I walked past fields of flowering sweetcorn. My sneeze woke up the chiffchaffs and titmice in the hedgerow. I probably disturbed much else besides given that a pile of swallows and house martins chose to drift my way.

I didn't have long to wait for the 141 back to Castleford but just missed the Manchester train and had an hour's wait for the next. I weighed up the options of getting the next train to Leeds or Sheffield and making connections there but I'd be arriving in Manchester later than if I sat and waited. A collared dove sang on the lamppost by my seat to keep me company.

Southport

Lapwing, Marshside 

The gene that produced the piebald woodpigeon seems to be still kicking about in the local population. One of the ones fossIcking about on next door's garage roof looked at first sight to have a white head. When it moved into the shade the subtle difference between the normal white patch on the neck and the very pale grey of the head and neck could be seen. For all that it was striking on its own on a garage roof I suspect it would be lost in a crowd of woodpigeons grazing in a field on a bright day.

It was that rare thing, a sunny Bank Holiday Monday. Rather than hang about at home saying: "My word, it's warm!" I decided to head out to the seaside for the much-postponed visit to Marshside. A juvenile Montagu's harrier had turned up over the weekend. I reckoned that if I went looking for that I might get to add a hen harrier to the year list.

The train ride to Southport was quiet and uneventful and it was lunchtime when I stepped off the 44 on Marshside Road and said hello to the house martins. A couple of kestrels hovered over the school playing field before heading off to the primary school down the road. I took them as an omen of good fortune.

Marshside 

The marshes on both sides of the road were dry and parched. A few woodpigeons grazed, starlings passed to and fro. A handful of lapwings flew in and had a rummage about in the dry mud. Patches of Michaelmas daisies and tansy flowered unvisited by insects. It all felt sort of broken. Junction Pool was bone dry, the haunt of woodpigeons and large white butterflies.

Canada geese, lapwings, mallards, black-tailed godwits and tufted ducks

The pool by Sandgrounders was half its usual size and congested with Canada geese, greylags, mallards, moorhens and lapwings. A handful of black-tailed godwits, most still in breeding plumage, puttered about in the shallows. A crowd of black-headed gulls, lesser black-backs and herring gulls loafed on what used to be the pool behind it.

At Sandgrounders 

The pool in front of Sandgrounders was cracked mud. Ditto the drains and Polly's Pool. A herd of cattle drifted over, unaccompanied by cattle egrets. I'd rather hoped they'd be back here by now. I had a chat with another birdwatcher, she reckoned it looked like the Serengeti. I was glad I stopped to chat, I noticed a common sandpiper bobbing across one of the islands as we talked.

Great white egret 

I thought I'd best get looking for this harrier. I didn't fancy joining the crowd on the sand plant, it was too warm for standing out in the open sun for any length of time. Instead I'd walk round to Crossens Marsh, taking the rough path inland of the Marine Drive as the footpath on the outer side was extremely busy with cyclists. Given the great empty swathes of outer marsh, the strong light and the heat haze the extra ten yards added to the distance from any sightings didn't make any odds. Way out over the marsh gulls and unidentifiable waders flew about the estuary. A distant white blob resolved itself into a great white egret as it flew inland. I had a fight with the camera to try and get a photo then realised I'd left the macro setting on from when I was photographing that goldcrest the other day. It was reassuring to see more insects about, bees and flies and not just large white butterflies. There were enough about for a Southern hawker to be keeping the wolf from the door.

The large dark shapes in the haze became flying carrion crows. A few woodpigeons flew low over the tall forests of straw. Harriers have a habit of sitting on the ground and there were acres of cover available to any that were about. I was about halfway to Crossens Marsh when I saw a large, pale shape rise out of the distant marsh. A ringtail harrier. My first instinct was to identify it as a hen harrier, and so it was but I needed to confirm it wasn't the Montagu's. Which was easier said than done at that distance given my utter inexperience with that species. As luck would have it the bird turned on a wingtip before disappearing back into the marsh, the bright, pale undersides confirming it as a hen harrier.

Crossens Outer Marsh 

Approaching the boundary fence with Crossens Marsh I noticed the reassuringly dark shape of a female-type marsh harrier rise from the marsh, very slightly closer than the hen harrier had been. It floated over to the river, putting up a murmuration of knots. They settled back down as the harrier moved inland and started upsetting black-headed gulls and starlings. I decided this was a sensible point to cross the road and risk the cyclists, there were a couple of seats along the way where I could sit and do a slow scan round.

A dark, gingery bird of prey got my hopes up but was a kestrel catching insects disturbed by the cattle on Crossens Outer Marsh. A smaller, darker bird sitting on a fence post on the boundary between the grazed and ungrazed marsh has me puzzled for a while. I perched myself on the standing seat by the path and stared hard at it to no avail. It was pure chance that I happened to be looking that way when the kestrel took a swipe at it in passing and it flew out of the way. I noted the dark slate blue upperparts and brightly tea-stained underparts of a male merlin. It quickly took to cover on the ground.

Crossens Outer Marsh, just to give you an idea of the viewing conditions. For the record, two carrion crows, a merlin and a kestrel are in this photo though I can only find the merlin.

I looked back towards the sand plant, wondering if the crowd was having any luck with the Montagu's. I didn't see anything over that way beside black-headed gulls and a flock of swallows. Starlings, linnets and meadow pipits passed overhead as I scanned round. The knots took flight again, this time bringing up black-headed gulls and small waders that were probably dunlins and/or ringed plovers. Then I noticed that the marsh harrier was still over to my right upsetting gulls and got to wondering what had put up the waders. It was another ringtail harrier. This bird was giving fleeting views as it rose and fell above the distant marsh. It looked dark-bellied at first, strong light making deep shadows. The lack of any ginger tones being picked up by the light convinced me in the end it was another hen harrier. Two hen harriers, a marsh harrier and a merlin was a pretty good haul and I was happy with that.

Crossens River, Banks on the other side

I carried on walking, stopping every so often for a scan of the marsh or to get out of the way of passing cyclists or both. A cyclist stopped and asked me why there were so many people with binoculars and telescopes. I explained that Marshside and the Ribble Estuary were nature reserves and that the usual Bank Holiday numbers has been swelled because there was a rare bird of prey doing the rounds. He'd not long gone when another birdwatcher came walking back towards the car park? "Are you looking for the Monty?" he asked. It turned out it was hunting over the fields on the other side of the river on Banks Marsh. "It's been showing well, flying over the tops of those trees. You should have a decent chance of seeing it."

And so I did.

The views were distant and fleeting, the bird often dipping below the treetops. Ample scope for confusion was provided by a kestrel hunting over the field in front of the trees. I have to admit straight up, if I hadn't been primed for seeing a Montagu's harrier and hadn't spent last night reading round the field identification of juveniles in particular then this bird would have gone down as a "I wonder what the hell that was." It was a dark harrier, more lightly built than a marsh harrier, and when the light caught it there were distinct ginger brown tones that reminded me of something else. It was only on the way home I realised it was the colour of eclipse male wigeons. I managed about a minute before it disappeared behind the trees. Not the stellar views people were getting yesterday but I'd got it and I think I'd recognise one if I saw one again.

A walk back into Marshside along the bund didn't look like being a productive prospect so I carried on down Marine Drive and got the 44 bus back from Crossens. As we turned into Marshside Road  i idly checked out the gull floating over the nearby rooftops and was startled to realise it was a second calendar year Mediterranean gull 

I got to the station just in time for the Stalybridge train, just as well as the next one to Oxford Road was terminating at Wigan. I had half an hour to wait for the connecting train at Bolton but this gave me plenty of time to change platforms at Deansgate for the train home. Getting off at Humphrey Park the local magpies were taking umbrage at something. The something was a juvenile raven which took the hint and flew off. Give it a year and it won't be giving a monkey's and any magpie would have to watch out for itself 

It had been a good day out, an excellent walk and any birdwatching trip involving three species of harrier can't be bad.