Fylde

Pink-footed geese, Skipool Creek

It was going to be another nice day, I decided I'd catch up with a few more places and have an afternoon at the seaside. I got me an old man's explorer ticket and set off for Poulton-le-Fylde for a walk up to Skipool Creek.

Skipool Creek 

It was late morning, the tide was high and the creek was lapping its banks. A dozen drake mallards dabbled on the water by Wyre Road. Over on the river black-headed gulls bathed and squabbled, little egrets stalked the waterside and redshanks called from the rank grass on the banks. A couple of pairs of wigeons flew in and settled on the water. Herring gulls and a couple of lesser black-backs loafed on the far bank. Overhead, waves of pink-footed geese flew inland.

River Wyre

I decided I'd get the 75 bus to Fleetwood to see if the juvenile great northern diver was still on the marine lake. So instead of taking the short footpath going straight to Skipool Road and emerging by the bus stop with ten minutes to spare I took the wrong one, found myself in Little Thornton and only just managed the catch the bus. I wondered why the sheep were looking at me funny.

I just missed the ferry to Knott End

Arriving in Fleetwood I got off the bus on Dock Street and walked round to the Esplanade. A couple of loud toots told me I'd missed the Knott End ferry. It hadn't occurred to me up to then that I could have got it, had a look for the Siberian chiffchaff that had been reported over there earlier then got the ferry back for a look at the diver. Ah well. There's only so much you can fit into a November afternoon, I probably saved myself a stressful time missing both.

The birdlife on the Knott End side of the river was busier than the Fleetwood side. Little egrets, black-headed gulls and redshanks fussed about the waterside and one of the few mudbanks emerging from the water was packed with herring gulls and a handful of oystercatchers. On this side a few herring gulls and a lot of black-headed gulls wheeled about the lifeboat station and more herring gulls paddled on the ferry beach while a couple of pied wagtails beachcombed.

The Heysham ferry, off to exotic parts

The walk along the esplanade was delightful but not especially productive of birdlife that wasn't pigeons, herring gulls, carrion crows or black-headed gulls. I kept an ear out for meadow pipits or linnets and found half a dozen goldfinches in a bush.

Great northern diver

I got to the marine lake, sat down and had a look round. The low November modelling light that made for splendid views of Morecambe Bay was fighting me now. Silhouettes of mallards, Canada geese and mute swans jostled in one corner where a lady had a bag of bird food. A couple of cormorants and a redhead red-breasted merganser were fishing nearby. Something chunkier was fishing under the bridge. The second time it bobbed up I confirmed it was the great northern diver. It was doing a lot of quick, shallow diving, not staying up or down for very long. A chap I was talking to later told me that there were a lot of crabs in the lake and during the Summer holidays kids find it difficult not to catch one just by dangling a length of string from a stick. I expect that's what the diver was feasting on.

The diver was drifting closer and the sunlight was making it harder to see. I wandered over to the bridge where the views were better but distant. For a while it mingled with the cormorants, which had the same fishing strategy, and it was a job working out which it was that had just surfaced before it was back underwater.

The marine lake 

I looked at the time. I'd had two very nice walks, the birdwatching was low key but rewarding and there wasn't a lot of daylight left. I had one last look at the lake, found half a dozen dabchicks and another merganser then got the 74 back to Poulton and the trains home.

What can I say about the state of Manchester Oxford Road save that I got home more than an hour late and that if the departure boards had any semblance to reality I'd have got home quicker on the bus. I'd had a better day than the train crew who had been kicking their heels for hours waiting to see if any of the trains they'd been assigned were actually running.