A bit more than the expected wander

Lesser black-back, Crosby Marine Lake

After the fourth bad night's sleep and with eyes like peepholes in the snow I decided to go on a twitch. The white-rumped sandpiper was still at Meols, it would be a lifer if I could get it and being tired was no justification for not giving it a go. On paper the odds against my seeing my seeing one small bird on a vast stretch of beach were not good but experience shows that something "different" can jump out to the eye even when that difference is subtle. In this case I was looking for something like a small dunlin with long wings and doing it with bleary eyes and binoculars but I would have hated myself for not giving it a go.

Rock pipit 

It was a sunny day with a very brisk, cool wind. I got the train to Manor Road and walked down to the lifeboat station. The difference just over a week makes! The house martins and swifts had disappeared but there were rock pipits and pied wagtails bouncing between the promenade and salt marsh. Looking over towards Meols there were more shelducks than last time and dark bands of small waders feeding on the mud.

Dunlins, mostly, and black-headed gulls 

At this range I could only guess that the waders — or most of them — were dunlins. The good news was that the flock was at an angle to the seawall and got closer the further I walked down the promenade, a dark shadow became dots then birds. The other good news was the knot of birdwatchers just past the end of the tennis courts, which narrowed the search more than a bit.

The great thing about dunlins is that adult birds in breeding plumage have black bellies. On pale muddy sand that black sticks out a mile and I was quickly confirming that a lot of the small waders were dunlins. Unless something very peculiar was going on most, if not all, the plainer birds in the flock were probably also dunlins, young birds and adults moulting into non-breeding plumage. A couple of ringed plovers flew past, just to remind me not to get too cocky. As I walked along I started finding a few sanderlings in the crowd, larger and paler than the dunlins but still mostly in their breeding duds. For some reason they don't properly get into clockwork mouse mode until they get their Winter whites. 

A couple of curlews strolled across and mingled with the crowds. What had initially looked like a big flock of dunlins was four or five small flocks stretching out like braided ribbons on the mud between wet soft. The birds were very active, running round mostly in small groups or flying off a few yards to find a fresh patch. I was told roughly where to look — it had to be roughly as the birds were very active. I needn't have worried about only having the binoculars, they were adequate for the purpose and I could easily scan the flock in question.

One bird kept catching my eye, it took a few minutes to realise why: it seemed like the colours were toned down a lot, not so much greyer as under saturated. I wasn't sure that it was smaller than the dunlins around it but was somehow more delicate-looking. And longer wings. And pale grey on the breast and flanks.  I had me the white-rumped sandpiper. And no sooner had it than lost it as that group rose and flew twenty yards further out, a flash of white confirming the identity. If I'm perfectly honest, had I seen that on my own without being prepared for it beforehand I'd have been baffled. If I ever do again I think I'd be able to at least recognise it as a possibility.

I couldn't find it on the ground again but picked it out by its white rump as a hundred or so of the waders took flight and moved further out again. I thought I saw another white rump in the corner of my eye, on a bigger bird, perhaps a curlew sandpiper or the pale grey rump of a sanderling catching the light.

Hoylake Lifeboat Station 

I knew I hadn't the legs for the walk over to Moreton. I walked back and got a much-needed cup of tea. And lunch, which was unusual, I rarely bother when I'm out, I'll just nibble on supplies of oat biscuits and mints. Perhaps I had a premonition that it would be a long time til teatime.

I got the train back to Liverpool and headed for Waterloo, I'd got a Saveaway ticket for the day. I'd have a gentle toddle round Crosby Marine Park and then either move on to another site or, more probably, jack it in and go home. And so I did. The highlight of the journey being a dark green fritillary feeding on the hemp agrimony at Bidston Station.

Crosby Marine Lake 

A couple of dozen little egrets lined the far bank of Crosby Marine Lake. There were dozens of gulls about the marine park, equal numbers of black-headed gulls and herring gulls with a handful of lesser black-backs and a passing great black-back. Most of the herring gulls congregated at the deep end of the old boating pond as usual, the black-headed gulls were scattered all about. A first-Summer glaucous gull had been here yesterday, I kept an eye out just in case I was going to be lucky twice in one day. There were quite a few very sun-bleached young herring gulls but even the palest didn't have the low contrast sandy beige tones of a young glaucous gull and the tips of the primary wing feathers were always darker than the rest of the wing, never paler than a dark chocolate shade.

The old boating pond

Mute swans and coots mugged for scraps, the mallards dozed under the bank, when they weren't squabbling over the best seats. House martins zipped about at head height, occasionally dipping lower to get a drink or a bath, and a small flock of starlings fussed about in the grass on the other side of the pool. A screeching commotion was two juvenile common terns chasing after an adult with sand eels in its beak. Another screeching commotion was three black-headed gulls trying to steal food off a young herring gull only for an adult herring gull to come in and snatch it.

I startled a passing small dog by exclaiming: "Good grief! A clouded yellow!" at a passing butterfly. And so it was. It's been a good year for clouded yellows and quails and I've had no luck with either. And there it was, my first ever clouded yellow fluttering low over the grass. I was struck forcibly by the colour, in my head I was expecting buttery yellows, in reality it was the colour of ragwort flowers gone over: dark yellows and burnt orange. And very fidgety, when it wasn't being buffeted about by the wind. I got a couple of photos of grass then lost it as it blew away.

Crosby Beach 

Carrion crows fossicked about on the beach, herring gulls loafed on the tideline. A couple of common terns headed North. A couple of cormorants headed South.

Goldfinches twittered in the sea buckthorns by the perimeter fence to Seaforth Nature Reserve. Lapwings and black-headed gulls were arrayed on this end of the pool like a child had set out a box of toy soldiers. They were almost as animated. Herring gulls, cormorants, Canada geese and lesser black-backs loafed on the poolside. More herring gulls loafed on the grass by the fence further along. Their inactivity was more than made up for by the common terns noisily swirling round the nesting rafts at the end of the pool by the hides. Over that end there were lots of unidentifiable waders mixed in with the crowds of gulls and geese.

I walked along, different bits of the pool coming in and out of view behind the grassy banks in the foreground. More lapwings and black-headed gulls. A curlew. Three juvenile shelducks flew across towards the Coastguard tower. About halfway along the pool there's a small spit or point and this was carpeted with Canada geese and herring gulls. Young herring gulls stuck out like mounds of dry earth. There was one extremely pale sandy mound behind one of the Canada geese. A couple of very bleached herring gulls probably. A couple of steps further on it became apparent it was one gull, roughly the same size as the goose. A big herring gull or a small goose? I had another, proper, look. A low contrast beige gull without dark wing tips. A first-Summer glaucous gull. I hoped it would get its beak out of its back feathers but it wasn't for waking up just so some old bloke could confirm its identity. A big, mostly pale bill would have given me no chance of second-guessing myself. Not that I would have had any excuse for it anyway, no number of washes would fade a herring gull to that shade.

Large white

I walked round to the little nature reserve. The small blues and gatekeepers weren't for having their photos taken but a large white obliged. A chiffchaff squeaked in the trees and a wren scolded even before I passed by.

Crosby Marine Lake 

The train journey from Waterloo was uneventful. Lime Street wasn't. Nothing except the London train going through Crewe had left the overground station for the past hour or was likely to leave the station for the next few hours. A power failure had taken out signals throughout Greater Manchester. I weighed up the options: I could get the bus from Liverpool to Widnes, thence another to Warrington then the 100 to the Trafford Centre. Or the Northern Line to Liverpool South Parkway and pick up the same journey. Or… I was in luck (again!): the train from Headbolt Lane was running but only as far as Wigan. And as luck would have it, I managed to catch the train from Liverpool Central that connected with that train to Wigan. And I had a five-minute wait for the 132 to the Trafford Centre. Kudos to the train crew who did a good job of reassuring us all about our tickets being accepted for this run and the buses at the other end and the guard went through the train telling people which buses they needed to catch at Wigan. In the end I was only two hours late home, which wasn't bad in the circumstances.

Sefton

Meadow pipit, Crosby Marine Park

It was another day dominated by the pollen count. I headed for the seaside in search of seaborne breezes. Seaforth Nature Reserve has had visits from a roseate tern and a black tern the past few days, I thought I'd go over to have a look see, just in case I might get lucky, then move on for a gentle rummage about somewhere or other. It wasn't the weather for anything especially energetic, which was just as well as energetic was well beyond me today.

Crosby Marine Lake 

I got the trains to Waterloo and wandered over to Crosby Marine Park. A chiffchaff was giving it large from one of the gardens. The lawns by the lakes were liberally dotted with black-headed gulls, lesser black-backs and small crowds of starlings and house sparrows. They were feeding on insects emerging from the grass, any that escaped their attentions then had to run the gauntlet of house martins hawking overhead. Dozens of herring gulls loafed by the boating lake while a few mallards and mute swans drifted about.

Herring gulls

Sea holly

The sea hollies were coming into flower. Meadow pipits, house sparrows, starlings and linnets fussed about, eager to see if anything had been kicked up by the Army training team on a route march across the dunes.

Starling

Crosby Beach

It was a sunny Summer lunchtime and it was a toss-up whether there were more house martins than carrion crows on the beach. Just a handful of herring gulls and a cormorant flew by, it's that time of year.

It was raining in North Wales 

The lack of crowd scenes on the beach contrasted with the crowds on Seaforth Nature Reserve as I looked at it through the fence. Much to the disgust of the carrion crows lined up sitting on the fence. I'm entirely capable of walking past a crow without molesting it but they weren't convinced. Shelducks dozed on the close-cropped grass as rabbits did some more cropping. There were more shelducks on the pools, dabbling in the company of lapwings and a handful of redshanks. Oystercatchers were roosting on the big island, crowding out Canada geese, cormorants and herring gulls. It was pure luck that I caught the black-and-white wing and tail patterns of a few black-tailed godwits as they protested at being jostled off balance.

As always this time of year the tern colony provided most of the noise. As far as I could see they were all common terns, at this distance I would struggle to honestly pick out any arctic terns. A few dark, short-tailed terns caught my eye but were quickly identified as second calendar year common terns, the brown immature feathers on the back and wings catching my eye. And then I saw something different: a significantly whiter tern than the others with a stretched out look to the bill and wings. Was this a roseate tern? I decided I'd best make sure I wasn't stringing myself along by having a look at something else then coming back and seeing if the bird still stood out in the crowd. I couldn't find any dunlins amongst the waders on the island. I could, however, immediately find the tern as it swooped and banked in the midst of common terns its long tail steamers standing out from the crowd. I was very made up by the discovery. As if that wasn't surprise enough, a Cetti's warbler started singing from the bit of rank vegetation just over the bankside.

The nature reserve by the sailing club
A lot of hemlock water dropwort

I wandered down to the lake, which was busy with what looked like a school trip, and round to the little nature reserve by the sailing club. I would expect a singing Cetti's warbler here, I've often heard one. Today I heard two. A chiffchaff and a whitethroat also sang and titmice in stealth mode bustled through the undergrowth. Just outside the reserve the grass by the car park was littered with Southern marsh orchids.

Southern marsh orchid 

The bracing sea air had done me a world of good and would have continued doing so had I taken a route back into town that didn't pass lines of privet hedges in full bloom. 

I wasn't sure where I wanted to go next. I wasn't sure I wanted to go anywhere at all but it was still only lunchtime and I'd paid for my travel card. I had best part of an hour to wait for the next bus to Lunt and I didn't fancy hanging round that long. I got on the train and decided I didn't have the energy for the trawl up to Formby Point from either of the stations. And I didn't think the Alt Estuary at Hightown would be very productive, it would be a different matter next month. I really should have a walk across Ainsdale Dunes I told myself as the train left Ainsdale Station. So I ended up in Southport. I'd just missed the 44 and the 15 so I headed for the marine lake. And got as far as a coffee shop where, after a pastie and a pot of tea, I had to concede that I was done. Not by any means gracefully but concede it I did. Sometimes reality reminds me I'm not Peter Pan.

Merseyside mini-bundle

Temminck's stint, Marshside

I had decided I was going to go to Marshside to see if I could add the Temminck's stints there to the year list, then I watched the sheet of water descending from the sky and decided to wait for the lunchtime train. Which worked: by the time I got to Southport it was dry and sunny, with most of the cloud cover inland. It was also ferociously windy.

Canada geese and goslings

The marshes looked a lot quieter than on my last visit. Woodpigeons grazed and Canada goose families pottered about. The starlings and house sparrows were mostly staying in the shelter of the houses and gardens. The few lapwings that were about hunkered down out of the wind and skylarks sang from the ground. A sedge warbler sang from the depths of the vegetation in the drain by the path. Watching a little egret flying sideways across the road I could understand why most of the birds were grounded. 

Swifts and house martins hawked at head height, flying into the wind and almost stalling in the process. Every so often they'd relax and let the wind blow them back up the road before banking and tacking their way back. I thought this was my opportunity to get close photos of the birds, for once they weren't just zipping past all the while. I got a lot of photos of sky and wing tips. The birds weren't the only ones being pushed about by the wind.

I managed to get just the one swift in the frame of a photo

Mute swans, mallards and gadwalls cruised about the junction pool. An avocet and a couple of lapwings fed in the margins and a dozen or so black-tailed godwits loafed at one side. There weren't any ruffs about and the few redshanks that were around took some finding.

Mute swans

There were a few people already in Nels Hide. I took my seat and had a scan round the marsh. A few mallards, shovelers, gadwalls and greylags cruised about the pools. I found a couple of dunlins in breeding plumage with their black bellies and a couple of ringed plovers skittered about the mud. At last someone said: "The stints are back!" and I looked over to the right hand side to find them and had no luck seeing them. I was looking too far away, a couple of the birders showed me where the stints were: on the near bank at the corner of the hide.

Temminck's stint

This was easily the closest unimpeded view I've ever had of Temminck's stints. Usually I go away with the impression of a pint-sized common sandpiper with plain upperparts. This closer view showed that the upperparts aren't so plain after all.

Temminck's stint

Temminck's stint

Herring gulls, lesser black-backs and coots

Half a dozen large gulls had a wash and brush up in one of the pools away from the hide. The other birds kept a wide berth, a ringed plover flying over and settling on the mud in front of the hide for a while before flying over to join the dunlins and ringed plovers on the other side of the pool.

Ringed plover

Ringed plover

A mallard passed by with her ducklings very close to hand. When I see mallards with huge clutches of baby ducklings I can't help wondering why the world isn't knee-deep in them. Then I watch the ducklings go about their business and wonder why they're not an endangered species. This family looked like they had a chance against marauding gulls.

Mallard and ducklings

The stints moved away from the hide and eventually out of sight. Soon I was the only person left in the hide. A sedge warbler hopped up and down the wire fence as if working itself up into song, each time changing its mind and going back to feed on the bank. The Temminck's stints reappeared further along the bank, any other time I would have been thrilled to see them so close.

Sedge warbler

A light breeze

I made my way back to Marshside Road and headed for the bus back into Southport. I decided I'd move on to another site rather than fight my way along Marine Drive to Crossens. In the end I decided to go and have a look at Crosby Marine Park, which I've neglected this Spring.

The wind hadn't eased any when I arrived in Waterloo and the clouds were looking ominous. I headed straight for the shelter of the little nature reserve to catch my breath and have a look over the lake in relative shelter. Black-headed gulls and common terns bobbed about in the wind low over the water's surface. There wasn't anything except black-headed gulls on the water as far as I could see.

Crosby Marine Lake 

I headed to the wire fence by Seaforth Nature Reserve to see what was about. I had already decided I wasn't for being windblown and sandblasted on the beach. Canada geese and rabbits grazed and shelducks dozed on the grass. Cormorants, oystercatchers, herring gulls, lesser black-backs and a couple of great black-backs loafed by the pools. The rafts over near the hides were busy — and noisy — with black-headed gulls and common terns. Keeping the binoculars steady in the wind was very hard work and I had to concede that trying to find any arctic terns or even, perhaps, a roseate tern in the churning masses was a mug's game in these conditions. 

I dropped back down to the lake and walked back, passing a family of carrion crows too intent on their beachcombing to be bothered by me. I headed for the station and thence home. For once after going out birdwatching the legs weren't tired but the rest of me felt like it had had a rough going over.

Tree lupins, Crosby Marine Park 

Sefton bumper bundle

Starlings, Crosby Marine Lake 

A caterwauling of magpies, rooks and jackdaws woke me up and for the life of me I couldn't work out what all the row was about. As I got washed and dressed it all went quiet and the back garden was left to the goldfinches and titmice when, an hour later, the hooligans came back into the trees and resumed their racket. I suspect it's teenage disco fever.

It was a gloomy morning with the threat of wind and rain and distinctly cooler than it has been. I headed out to Merseyside to have a wander round Crosby Marine Lake, check out Seaforth Nature Reserve through the wire fence then see what was about on the Alt Estuary at Hightown. Anything further would be dependent on time, weather and my energy levels.

Crosby Marine Lake 

The wind was a bit fierce at Crosby Marine Lake. Cormorants and a great black-back lounged on a raft, goldeneyes and a drake red-breasted merganser drifted about on the water, I couldn't see any sign of any dabchicks. Pigeons, starlings and a little egret pottered about the banks.

Coot

The old boating pool was livelier, mostly with coots, black-headed gulls and herring gulls. A couple of dozen oystercatchers roosted on the grassy bank. A small flock of starlings rummaged about on the near bank before flying over and joining the fifty or so on the far bank. They were joined by a turnstone which flew in from across the lake. A handful of tufted ducks cruised about, all the mallards were with a mute swan at the far end by the dunes.

Crosby Beach 

I very quickly got very windswept and almost interesting on the beach. I looked over the estuary at the filthy weather being dumped on North Wales and decided I'd best not linger too long, it would be over here in an hour's time. Oddly, though there was the usual complement of black-headed gulls, herring gulls, carrion crows and pied wagtails on the beach there was not one single wader. 

Canada geese and shelduck

I had a look through the fence at Seaforth Nature Reserve. Canada geese and rabbits grazed on the grass while shelducks loafed and dozed. Over a hundred black-tailed godwits were feeding thighs-deep in the pools with a few dozen redshanks and a couple of curlews. I thought I was going to have no luck finding any bar-tailed godwits when one obligingly had a bit of a stretch of its wings then resumed feeding. Usually, when I get an eye in on one I can find a few more but not today I didn't.

Turnstone

The water levels have been lowered on the marine lake for maintenance and this provided rich pickings for half a dozen turnstones scampering about the usually submerged rocks on the edge.

The nature reserve 

The little nature reserve was fairly quiet, the titmice took some finding and the robins didn't feel like singing much. The Cetti's warbler in the reedbed did a warm up but didn't really give it the full song. The weather was hardly springlike so I couldn't blame it.

Alt Estuary, Hightown 

If anything the weather was gloomier and windier at Hightown, though it mostly kept dry. The tide was well out, leaving groups of curlews and herring gulls dotted about the mud. About ten minutes after I arrived the curlews decided it was time to go for a feed and they flew out to follow the tideline. The couple of dozen redshanks stayed behind to fossick about the muddy banks of the Alt while pairs of mallards were content to doze out of the wind. 

Gadwalls 

I was wind worn by the time I headed back to the station. I didn't have enough left in the tank for anything ambitious or energetic so I got the train to Southport and wandered down to see what was on the lake. The answer, naturally, was a lot of herring gulls, greylags, coots and mallards with a supporting cast of mute swans, Canada geese and black-headed gulls. The snow goose had been reported again, if it was around while I was there it must have been hiding in the trees. The great crested grebes were asleep by the islands, the banks of which were thickly lined with cormorants, geese and coots. For once there weren't many dabchicks about. I had a sit-down near the paddle steamer and scanned around. A few tufted ducks, mallards and gadwalls bobbed about by the near bank. A little egret appeared in one of the trees on the island then promptly disappeared. I wonder if they'll be nesting here. 

The wind decided to add an icy note to its buffeting. I noticed the 40 bus was due in ten minutes and weighed up whether to have a quick look at Marshside. I headed back to Liverpool for the train home.

Merseyside bumper bundle

Preening redshanks, New Brighton

It was a bright, sunny day after a very wet night so I headed for the seaside. The problem with December is that you've no sooner arrived somewhere than the light begins to fade so I'm going to try and "front-load" this month's birdwatching before the short days cramp my style.

I got the Liverpool train, noting the return of woodpigeons along the way and that they were all feeding or loafing in trees and none on the ground. The wariness of newcomers? I'm becoming persuaded that "our" woodpigeons don't come back for the Winter.

New Brighton sea front, Liverpool Docks in the background

At Liverpool I got myself an all areas Saveaway and went to New Brighton, hoping to get purple sandpiper onto the year list. The tide was on the ebb when I arrived at the sea front and there was already plenty of beach for gulls, waders and dog walkers to use.

Herring gull

Herring gulls and black-headed gulls were much in evidence, common gulls and lesser black-backs needed looking for though there were a few about. I just saw the one great black-back. I browsed through the gulls, just in case. My first Bonaparte's gull, Mediterranean gull and my only Laughing gull were at New Brighton and a lad can dream.

Most of the oystercatchers had moved on. Redshanks bathed and preened in pools before flying out to the retreating tideline.

Redshanks

Herring gulls

Dozens of cormorants and herring gulls loafed on the sea defences by the lighthouse. Starlings bustled about on the tops, turnstones and oystercatchers about the bottom. As the tide ebbed the gulls started to drift away, all the quicker when an elderly couple of dog walkers thought it would be a fine idea to climb over the sea defence until they discovered it wasn't.

Cormorants, herring gulls, oystercatchers and great black-back

New Brighton Lighthouse 

A wander round found more gulls, redshanks, turnstones and starlings and crowds of pigeons on the car park. A dozen black-headed gulls dozed on the pontoons. I was disappointed but not surprised not to find any purple sandpipers, the mild Autumn has postponed a lot of Winter visitors.

Next stop was Lunt Meadows, long due a proper visit by me this year. I had twenty minutes to wait for the 133 at Waterloo so I said a quick hello to Crosby Marine Lake where the herring gulls and coots carpeted the grass by the boating pond. A quick look over the pond found coots, mute swans and tufted ducks but I didn't notice any mallards. An equally quick look over the lake found a dabchick fishing on its own out in midwater.

Roughley's Wood 

I got off the 133 at Lunt and had a brief nosy in Roughley's Wood. At first I didn't think the mixed tit flocks were including long-tailed tits then the flock bouncing across the main path included more than two dozen of them. The blue tits were staying in the treetops with goldfinches and chaffinches, the great tits at the bottom of the canopy and the long-tailed tits tended to move between the lower canopy and the undergrowth, which was busy with robins and wrens.

A kestrel was hovering over near the car park to Lunt Meadows. Greenfinches passed low overhead, higher up there was a steady traffic of black-headed gulls and herring gulls heading for the coast.

Lapwings

Lapwings, teals, wigeons and mallards were settling down on the main pool. Shovelers dabbled midwater and a couple of dozen Canada geese cruised about. Moorhens and pied wagtails fussed about the water margins while the coots squabbled in that half-hearted way I associate with sleepy toddlers in a grump.

Lunt Meadows 

I'd walked round for a look over the pool from the screen on the East side, finding myself a goosander hiding in plain sight on the open water. I stepped away from the screen, turned onto the path and came face to face with a short-eared owl sitting on a fencepost almost within arm's reach. The owl slipped sideways from the fence — I don't know any other bird that can fly sideways effortlessly like a short-eared owl can — then slowly circled round and flew over to the open meadow. By this time I'd retrieved my camera and took what is unequivocally the worst photo I have ever taken of an owl. Which I'll be keeping for the memory.

Lunt Meadows 

I got another, more prolonged though distant, view of the owl on the way back as it drifted over the meadow and round the edge of the wood.

Short-eared owl
Not a great picture but substantially better than my first one today.

The chaffinches were going to bed as I walked past Roughley's Wood and the blackbirds were having one last go at the hawthorn berries. As I waited for the bus back to Waterloo the hedgerow fizzed with house sparrows and the big trees on the corner of the road were becoming black with jackdaws. The journey home was nicely uneventful and I was ready for a pot of tea when I got there.

Roughley's Wood