Leighton Moss

Shoveler

Either I've got a cold or my putting the central heating on a week early has put enough warm dust into the air to turn me into the bubbly snot monster with one of those coughs like a yapping dog. Either way, I decided that the rather ambitious plans for the day would be imprudent. Especially as I'd managed to sleep through the alarm. I got me an old man's explorer ticket and headed North.

It was likely the last nice day of the week. Woodpigeons, corvids and black-headed gulls dotted the fields along the way. The tide was low so the curlews and redshanks on the Kent Estuary at Arnside were scattered and distant. I was sitting on the inland side of the train watching teals erupt from the land drains on the Meathop side of the estuary. A couple of dozen wigeons abandoned the viaduct embankment as the train passed over the Leven.

The train was making good time so I decided to stay on as far as Dalton-in-Furness and wait the eight minutes for the train back to Silverdale. This turned out to be a mistake, we were on slow running after Ulverstone and I missed the train by a couple of minutes. So I stayed on to Barrow, nipped over the road for a butty, bought a hot chocolate at the Station café and watched the red admiral butterflies skittering about the platform as I waited for the next train back. The walk over to the shop for the butty confirmed that yes, I had a cold and yes, I was in no fit state for yomping over the open countryside. I'd have fifty minutes at Leighton Moss, see what I could see and get the train back to Manchester. I have to admit that a lot of me was for not bothering with Leighton Moss.

Sitting on the seaward side of the train I saw a few dozen wigeons, and just the one duck eider, on the Leven. The salt marsh on the other side was littered with geese. A couple of dozen greylags grazed by the estuary, a couple of hundred pink-footed geese grazed on the salt marsh beyond. Little egrets and carrion crows peppered the salt marsh between Kents Bank and Meathop, a dozen shelducks dabbled on the beach at Grange-over-Sands. A redhead goosander drifted past the loafing mallards on the mud bank by Arnside Viaduct.

Robin

House sparrows bustled about Silverdale Station. I walked round to the Leighton Moss visitor centre where three robins were singing at each other in the hedgerows. The feeding stations haven't yet resumed at the Hideout, which didn't stop robins and great tits making it abundantly clear that they were expecting feeding. I apologised profusely, I wasn't in a fit state for punch-ups with hungry passerines. Try as I might I couldn't find sight or sound of marsh tits and didn't have the time or energy for going hunting after them in the wet woodlands. I'll have to come back in a week or so, and also try and connect with the bearded tits on the grit trays.

Pintail 

I spent most of my time at Lilian's Hide, which was busy with coots and ducks. Most of the coots were cruising round the pool in a small raft, a few barged around on the near bank where the ducks were trying to get some sleep. There were equal numbers of mallards and teals though the teals took some finding in the grass. As did the snipe nestled in with them. There were about a dozen each of pintails and gadwalls and just the half dozen shovelers. Moorhens pottered about and I could hear a water rail muttering to itself but couldn't find it.

Pintails

Pintails, shovelers and gadwalls 

Pintail

It was sunny and just warm enough for dragonflies to be zipping about. Most were, almost inevitably, common darters but a couple of migrant hawkers skimmed low over the reeds.

At Lilian's Hide 

A female-type marsh harrier rose from the reeds over by the causeway, looked like it was coming this way then circled back and landed not far from where it started. Another about ten minutes later was a different bird, showing a lot of pale fringes to its wing coverts.

I looked at the time and had to make a decision: catch the Manchester train due in ten minutes or spend a couple of hours pottering about before catching the next. I didn't have a couple of hours' pottering about in me, I called it quits.