Twitch!

Western reef heron

The lure of the Western reef heron at Caernarfon — a first for the United Kingdom — proved too much. It seems to be shuttling between Caernarfon and Foryd Bay just down the coast. It's not a difficult day out if the bird's on the river at Caernarfon, hourly train between Manchester and Bangor, regular buses between Bangor and Caernarfon. Foryd Bay's trickier, there's a bus every couple of hours stops nearby. Then I looked at the map and realised the Wales Coast Path runs between Caernarfon and Foryd Bay. I could do that if the weather permitted. The Met Office forecast was cloudy but fine, so that was okay.  It turned out to be better than okay.

I deliberately didn't read up on Western reef herons before I went out. Partly because there were so many photos of this bird circulating on the web since its arrival at the weekend. And partly because I had a question I wanted to see if I could answer: there's a very rare dark morph of little egret, how would I tell a Western reef heron from one of those? I didn't go and look for the answers because I didn't want to spoil the learning opportunity.

It was grey and cold and windy with more than a hint of rain when I left Manchester. It was bright and sunny and windy when I arrived in Bangor. Along the way I found my first Welsh yellow wagtail. I'd noticed that for all that we were passing lots of fields of sheep they weren't accompanied by any jackdaws, despite the rooftops of the towns and villages we passed being full of them. So I was making a determined effort to find them. Which is why I noticed the female yellow wagtail the train spooked as it passed by. Luckily for me she flew in the same direction as the train before diving for cover otherwise she would have been one of the innumerable "I wonder what that was" birds.

Caernarfon and the castle

I got the bus to Caernarfon and had a quick mooch round the castle before setting off on the walk. Which was dead easy to join, you walk across the bridge by the castle over the River Seiont and there you are on it. House martins were doing running repairs on nests, collecting mud from the riverside. Swallows dipped into the river to drink and bathe. Herring gulls and oystercatchers would be my constant companions along the walk. 

Goosanders

Shelduck

Oystercatcher

A quick scan out from my starting point here at the mouth of the river found a mute swan steaming up the Menai Strait, quite a few shelducks and a couple of goosanders cruising just offshore. A rock pipit sang its defiance at me before going back to rummaging about in the seaweed . I've never knowingly heard a rock pipit sing before.

Rock pipit

Rock pipit

The Menai Strait 

The wind took the heat from a sunny day with an almost cloudless sky and made for pleasant walking, though sometimes challenging photography. The landscapes and seascapes were achingly beautiful. And there were plenty of birds about.

Linnet

House sparrows, goldfinches and linnets flitted between gardens, fields and hedgerows and the foreshore. Carrion crows followed the retreating tide for stranded morsels. The oystercatchers were generally in pairs of family groups, every so often there'd be a couple of dozen or so of them at a particularly fruitful feeding spot. The youngsters were nearly full grown, their beaks still slightly shorter than their parents' and still sporting chocolate brown feathers on their backs and wings. Every so often there'd be a curlew or a little egret on the shore, I was surprised to see an unseasonal turnstone, only the second I've ever seen in June.

Sandwich tern

The retreating tide provided mudbanks for herring gulls to loaf on and shallow water for plunge-diving Sandwich terns. Swallows zipped by close to the ground, banked and climbed and swooped back over the road. Fishermen digging for lugworms were supervised by herring gulls and a great black-back.

A view inland…

…and one looking back

The background songs of blackbirds were a regular feature, every so often accompanied by wrens. A thick walled hedge of hawthorns and roses was occupied by a whitethroat and a family of blue tits. A reed bunting sang from the rough corner of a field, a chaffinch from a farmstead. It's been too long since I've done this kind of walk, though to be fair we've not had the weather for it lately. I wouldn't have been devastated not to see the heron today, it was a damned good walk anyway.

The narrowing of the strait

The path comes towards the point where the Menai Strait narrows and meets the mouth of Foryd Bay. Newborough Warren almost meets mainland Wales and the retreating tide leaves stretches of shallow water and expansive mud. Small groups of eiders loafed on mudbanks. Herring gulls and oystercatchers fossicked about. And hundreds of jackdaws and carrion crows noisily descended to see what booty the tide had left behind. Given the numbers and enthusiasm it was obviously a bonanza.

Eiders

The mouth of Foryd Bay 

I came to a bend in the road just before my destination and checked my map. And checked it again three times. Rude words were uttered. About two hundred yards away from where I knew a crowd of birdwatchers were looking at a reef heron the path lurches to the left, heads for the main road, runs along it for a stretch then lurches to the right before rejoining the coast at the point of the gathering, adding three quarters of an hour to the walk. It was a lovely day, a nice walk, accompanied by greenfinches, chiffchaffs, swallows and goldfinches amidst rolling green fields, high-hedged lanes and a backdrop of glaucous green hilltops, I shouldn't moan about it. But it was frustrating.

Passing through Saron I met a birdwatcher waiting for the bus back to Caernarfon. It wasn't just me making a day of it, he'd come in from Crewe. I'm sure I've met him before but I can't place where. I've definitely met Phil from Rochdale before, as he reminded me (I am truly awful at recognising people, as my family would be quick to point out). He was one of the group on the bank by the road and he put me onto the Western reef heron.

Western reef heron (right)

The bird was about a hundred yards away. Not a close view but near enough to be able to pick out some details with my binoculars. I was expecting a small, dark slate blue egret and that's I got. I didn't expect just how much that dark slate blue would melt into the shadows on the mud. Any time it passed in front of a large bit of debris it faded into the background. I'd only be getting record photos today.

Western reef heron and little egret

Western reef heron

Western reef heron and herring gulls

Herring gulls, Western reef heron and shelduck

Luckily there was plenty of open mud and water for it to wander about in, and doubly luckily there were a couple of little egrets nearby to compare and contrast with. Besides the obvious difference in colour what else was there? The reef heron looked smaller than the little egrets despite the books saying the little egrets are very slightly smaller. Even accounting for the optical illusion of distant white objects looking larger than distant dark ones. Then I realised: it wasn't smaller, it was shorter. The lower leg in particular was shorter. The other structural differences were subtler and harder to pin down. Somehow the neck was more snake-like than a little egret's, the head a little more angular but that could be an illusion caused by the contrast between the dark head and bright white throat. The beak was dark but not black, reminding me of a young juvenile grey heron. Comparing muddy feet the little egrets had the brighter shade of yellow to them. I had the answers to my question and was enjoying a very nice looking bird.

Western reef heron and little egret

Over in a corner a few dozen herring gulls loafed and bathed while a pair of greylags kept their goslings close to hand. Mallards pottered about, a drake goosander dozed, a pair of mute swans cruised about in a pool in the background. Closer to hand swallows and sand martins hawked low over the mud.

I noticed the time and remembered that the next bus back to Caernarfon was the last one and I didn't fancy the walk back. I made better time than expected so took advantage of a bench on the corner of the road near the bus stop to listen to the singing greenfinches and swallows and watch the house martins swoop by.

Navelwort

Waiting for the bus

Even though the G6 is a minibus I'm glad I didn't meet it as I walked along this stretch of road, especially at the bend over the bridge over the River Gwyrfai. Main roads in rural Britain need a great deal of respect from the pedestrian. It was a nice trip back to Caernarfon and the connection back to Bangor worked perfectly. Arriving home at silly o'clock I debated which was the more urgent need: the first cup of tea since breakfast or getting the after-sun lotion onto a glowing red face. I slapped on the Aloe vera as the kettle boiled.

There are worse ways to spend a Friday afternoon