Leighton Moss

Blue tit

By ordinary standards it was a very hot day but compared to last week it was bearable so I decided on a trip out, if only to escape the passing wafts of smoke from the moors. I got me an old man's explorer ticket and headed up North for a visit to Leighton Moss. I didn't feel up to anything strenuous after feeling rough all weekend, a gentle toddle round the reserve would do me good.

As has become my custom I stayed on the Barrow train and doubled back to Silverdale, giving me a couple of chances to see what was about on the North side of Morecambe Bay. On the way up I noticed that the pool at the Allen Hide was almost bone dry. There was still water by the Eric Morecambe Hide though a large strip of open mud attested to how dry it's been. A herd of swans fed in the outer pools, there were definitely lapwings, black-headed gulls and black-tailed godwits in the high tide roost, I suspect I missed a lot of other waders in the passing glance I had as the train slowed for the level crossing and the station. I reckon I miss more than half of what's out there when I pass a crowd scene like this on the train. I've learned to be philosophical about it, it's better to be sure of recognising and recording something than being unsure about everything and not even recording that.

The tide was high so although the Cumbrian salt marshes were bone dry, the grass parched and the mud cracked, there were crowds of waders and gulls at the edges. On the Meathop side of Arnside Viaduct it looked like about a hundred black-tailed godwits huddled by the water's edge, a few curlews stood out from the crowd, some other shapes might have been redshanks. Black-headed gulls littered the shore by Grange-over-Sands, marauding gangs of carrion crows did the rounds and despite the lack of water in the pools little egrets seemed to be making a living. The lack of shelducks wasn't surprising — this time of year they decamp en masse to join huge moulting flocks on their traditional sites, the ones from Morecambe Bay probably join the flock in the Mersey Basin — the lack of oystercatchers was, a bit.

The salt marshes of the Leven, also dry, were given over to woodpigeons, crows and little egrets while swallows hawked low over the ground. Oddly, there weren't any ducks of any kind on the river as the train passed over. I had six minutes to wait for the train back from Dalton where the buddleias and bedding plants were busy with butterflies and you cannot imagine how much effort I've put into trying to avoid that outbreak of alliteration but couldn't come up with anything that wasn't even clumsier. Red admirals, large whites, meadow browns, small tortoiseshells and painted ladies fussed about the platform. A definite bounce-back after a sub-par May and June. On the way back there was a handful of eiders on the landward side of the viaduct over the Leven and some redshanks on the banks of the Kent at Arnside, which restored my faith in the scheme of things.

Juvenile robin

Given it was a bright, sunny afternoon Leighton Moss was remarkably quiet. On arriving I drifted over to The Hideout to get my eye in. The feeding stations are still suspended so there wasn't the usual frenzy of activity but there were plenty of small birds quietly going about their business in the trees and bushes, notably a chiffchaff urgently fidgeting its way through the bush by the hide, gleaning insects from the leaves and dashing out every so often for a bit of flycatching. As I left the visitor centre and headed for Lilian's Hide a treecreeper landed in a tree I was passing by. I took the opportunity to stand in a patch of deep shadows to watch it.

Treecreeper
You might want to look twice at those feet.

 

At Lilian's Hide 

There were lots of ducks on the pool at Lilian's Hide and all the ones I could see were mallards. A family of mute swans drifted over the other side of the pool and coots were liberally scattered all around. There was no sign of any gadwalls, pochards or tufted ducks. The cloud of swifts and sand martins swirling over the pool probably substituted for them weight for weight. There must have been plenty of midges about, they weren't just providing meals for the birds, the dragonflies were getting plenty, too. As well as the usual broad-bodied chasers and brown hawkers there were a couple of emperor dragonflies on the hunt. Less conspicuously, a reed warbler flitted about in the depths of the reeds in front of the hide and a blue tit was busy pulling the heads of reedmace to bits.

Bramble
There was a lot of these tiny brambles along the path in the trees. The flowers were about half an inch across, This plant was about three inches high.

A reed warbler sang by the Sky Tower as I walked down to the reedbeds. All the other small birds were silent shadows disappearing behind leaf cover, even the robins. Especially the robins. 

Walking into the reedbeds

I had to tiptoe around a lot of common blue damselflies as I walked through the reedbeds. Speckled woods and red admirals fluttered about and I was buzzed by a careless brown hawker.

Speckled wood

The Tim Jackson Hide was very quiet of birds, just a mallard and a family of coots. The oystercatchers had moved on from their nest, I couldn't see any signs of how successful or not they had been. The pools were lively with broad-bodied chasers and black-tailed skimmers and at the speed they were zipping round it was hard to tell which I was looking at most of the time.

Great black-back
If a great black-back is on the warpath and has noticed you this is the best angle to see it from.

The walk to the Griesdale Hide was also quiet, save for a few noises off from a great tit in a willow tree as I passed by. This lack of welcome was extended by a great black-back circling the hide at treetops height. It called menacingly once it spotted me and turned back for another look. I thought I was in for a torrid time but it passed low over, turned for another look, called to remind me I was being watched and carried on with its circuit of the pool. Relief was the word, I've had close encounters with arctic terns and arctic skuas and I reckon a great black-back would be a couple of orders of magnitude worse than that. I settled in the hide and sat down as the gull settled on the nest platform. I couldn't see the cause for concern, the chick was missing from the nest. The gull set off for another lap, calling all the time. Something was definitely up. I noticed that the cormorant that usually loafs in the tree next to the platform was in another tree way over to the left. I also noticed there were no ducks or coots on the pool, only a couple of greylags. Then I noticed the juvenile great black-back sitting under the reeds.

Juvenile great black-back

The adult came back to settle on the nesting platform but just as it was landing it spotted something and was off. It chased a female marsh harrier right across the reedbeds and over towards the causeway. A bit uncalled for, if you ask me, the young gull was at least the same size as the harrier and looked rather a lot heavier so I doubt it was in danger from that quarter.

I walked back, adding some common darters, azure damselflies and a large red damselfly to the tally and wishing some of the other damselflies would keep still long enough for me to work out what I was looking at. The dark shape speeding overhead out of the sun turned out to be a woodpigeon. It's become a great year for hirundines and dragonflies but a dry one so far for hobbies.

Common darters

The new Lower Hide's been open for ages and I've still not had a look at it. I decided I'd make an afternoon of it and get the later train back to Manchester so off I set. The roadside buddleias were awash with butterflies and bees and swallows hawked low over the field by the path to the boardwalk.

Peacock

The boardwalk was eerie quiet. The causeway wasn't much better but had least had swifts swirling round overhead to confirm the presence of birdlife. Not a sound from any warblers — not even Cetti's warblers — or wrens.

The causeway 

The causeway pool 

The causeway pool was busy with mallards, mute swans, coots and about a dozen gadwalls which looked like a family group. An absence of great crested grebes was noticeable.

It was a lovely walk down to the Lower Hide, the trees provided dappled shade and the wind took the edge off the heat of the sun. Blackbirds, robins and squirrels rummaged about under the trees and bushes, titmice silently bounced through the trees and me and a rabbit pretended we hadn't seen each other. All very pleasant.

Walking down to the Lower Hide 

The Lower Hide 

From the Lower Hide 

The new Lower Hide is very nice indeed. Unfortunately, with the sun full on the windows it was also stiflingly hot. There were more mallards, coots and mute swans. There were also three full-grown shoveler ducklings that spent more time pecking each other than doing anything constructive.

I walked back to the visitor centre for a much-needed cold drink. Leighton Moss was in one of its quieter moods, both in terms of visitors and wildlife, but had still been well worth the visit.

Red admiral

Silverdale Station was also awash with butterflies.

Meadow brown

I did a shop on the way home so it was getting on a bit when I got back. The sun was low and sitting in a clear blue sky looking to the West. To the East a large orange and purple cloud rose from the horizon. It takes ages to get a moorland wildfire under control, the dry peat burns underground as well as on top.