Knott End

Sparrowhawk, Pilling Lane 

If the frost and frozen bird bath were not enough confirmation of the cold weather the first black ap of the Winter, a nice female with a caramel brown cap, arrived in the back garden and had a peck at the few remaining rowan berries. I'll have to get some suet blocks, the blackcaps seem to prefer them to the suet pellets, similarly the long-tailed tits and goldcrests.

I've pretty much avoided rail travel this week. Today reminded me why I've done that. The connection between my train into Manchester and the Blackpool train is straightforward on paper but is a bit tight for comfort in reality. Even more so when the train into Manchester is stuck at Castlefield Junction for an age. I wrote off making that connection and started to worry whether I'd be able to make the connection with the next one half an hour later. I needn't have worried, my train was running twenty-eight minutes late. The departures board was carnage, what wasn't late was cancelled. 

The train arrived at my destination, Poulton-le-Fylde, twelve minutes late by the simple expedient of not stopping at the stations between Bolton and Preston. (Passengers were told to get off at Bolton and wait for the next one which was right behind. I could see on the departures board it was twenty minutes late.) Any road, I'd arrived and I had ten minutes to wait for the 5c to Knott End. The plan was to have a look to see if the twites were back at the ferry jetty then have a mosey along the esplanade and then move on. And it's a nice, winding bus route through picturesque little towns on a cool, sunny day.

Fleetwood from Knott End 

The high tide was just starting to ebb at Knott End. There were no twites about on the slipway but I kept my fingers crossed that there might be some on the salt marsh along the esplanade. The house sparrows in the gardens tried to provide a suitable alternative. Herring gulls and black-headed gulls made plenty of noise as they flew about. Redshanks waded in the shallow waters by the jetty, I could hear more on the salt marsh. I could also hear pink-footed geese but could see no sign of them (I found out later that they were on the fields behind the local library, I worked with libraries for a quarter of a century, I should have guessed).

By the esplanade 

When I started walking along the salt marsh by the esplanade I wasn't intending to have a walk down to Pillings Lane but that's what I did.

Scores of waders roosted on the wet mud just beyond the salt marsh, a hundred yards or so from the esplanade. Most were curlews and oystercatchers, there were a few redshanks and a few dozen clockwork sanderlings raced along the surf. Closer to hand, half a dozen mallards dabbled in a pool by the pub and every fifty yards or so there'd be a little egret rummaging about in the marsh grass and shelducks dabbled in the mud.

Shelducks

The salt marsh beyond Knott End 

Sea defences at the top of the salt marsh

It was notable that there weren't many small birds in the salt marsh, I wasn't surprised not to see any twites but an absence of linnets and goldfinches was a bit unexpected and I had to go a long way before I bumped into the first meadow pipit. I can't blame the dogs being walked on the path because the few that weren't on leads were sticking strictly to the path. I know not how or why but they seemed to make a point of it.

Dunlins and ringed plovers

Mostly curlews and knots

The tide ebbed as I walked along and I was seeing more waders, mostly curlews and knots with sanderlings, redshanks, dunlins and unidentifiable godwits, and they were becoming more active. Redshanks fossicked about the margins of the marsh or foraged on the mud with dunlins and ringed plovers. Single lapwings were stationed at regular intervals along the edge of the marsh until I started seeing small groups of them on the mud opposite the caravan park and beyond. A flock of knots rose and fell in the distance then whatever it was causing the commotion came closer and a billowing cloud of peeps and plovers rose from the shore line. I looked for whatever raptor was responsible and couldn't find it. I reckoned it wasn't a peregrine as the curlews and oystercatchers stayed put.

Curlew

Meadow pipit

Just beyond the caravan park I had a stroke of luck. I'd watched a meadow pipit fly in and land on the fence by the path. Just ahead of it a robin bobbed up out of the newly mown grass, sat on a fence post and used that as a launch pad for a couple of pounce-hunting forays. Then another bird bobbed up just beyond the robin and took up the same hunting activity. A black redstart. I don't see enough black redstarts to be able identify females from first-Winter males, this was one of the other. And very nice to see, too. 

Black redstart

A birdwatching couple following behind joined me in watching it as it progressed down the fence posts then it disappeared into the marsh. They walked on and stopped almost immediately, signalling me to look ahead where a male sparrowhawk was sitting on the rocks by the path. 

Sparrowhawk, exit stage left

It sat there for a few minutes before flying off on the approach of some walkers. It didn't go far: about five minutes later I was watching it chase a meadow pipit which got away by doing a very tight wingtip turn then flying up when the sparrowhawk flew across.

Looking towards Barrow

Greenfinches

Beyond the houses on Beach Road the fields were busy with goldfinches, greenfinches, rooks and lapwings. Out on the bay the tideline was a memory and the waders were widely dispersed in the distance. 

Looking across Morecambe Bay

There was snow on the Lake District hilltops on the horizon, the wind had picked up and had blown in a lot of cloud to cover the sun and it felt a lot cooler, but it was still decent walking weather. I checked the public transport options beyond Pilling Lane and headed back for Knott End and the bus back. I didn't get to see the black redstart again but there were plenty of meadow pipits and they were joined by a couple of linnets.

Walking back to Knott End 

The bus got me back just in time for the train to York. I'd bought an old man's explorer ticket so my options were to get this train and change at Preston or Blackburn for a Manchester train or wait for the Liverpool train and change at Preston, Wigan, St Helens or Liverpool. I decided to head for Blackburn. All was going stunningly well until the train stopped at signals just after Salford Crescent. And stayed there for twenty minutes before stopping at signals at Castlefield Junction for another ten minutes or so. I'd missed my train home and was starting to fret about making the next train half an hour later but that was stuck at signals at Castlefield, too, so I had ten minutes' wait for it at Oxford Road. Which it left after sitting at the platform for half an hour for no apparent reason.  (I had more bad luck later on, I thought I'd take advantage of the explorer ticket to run an errand, the train was cancelled and the next one was two hours later.) It's good of the train operators to keep that doughty spirit of adventure kindling to stop us all getting blasé about the wonders of travel.

It's not like I wasn't warned