West Kirby

Scaup

It was grey but slightly milder than yesterday. I decided I'd have a gentle potter about West Kirby Marine Lake to see if the scaup that's been reported there lately was still about.

There was a bit of a hiccup with trains on the West Kirby line so I arrived later than intended and walked over to the lake. It was high tide, the walkway on the outer rim of the lake indicated by the tops of a few stones. The windsurfers were out in numbers, it was that kind of weather.

Herring gull

Herring gulls hovered around the lake, occasionally settling down by the outer rim,  mostly content to check the place out then return to the nearby rooftops. A lesser black-back cruised out of the way of the windsurfers until one took a spill in its direction and it flew off. Waders were notably absent, the few that would be about would be roosting on the eyes and Hilbre this time of year. A pied wagtail fossicked about the base of the sea wall.

Pied wagtail

I wondered if I had much chance of seeing the scaup. It very obligingly came over to greet me.

Scaup

Scaup
I'm always surprised by how long a scaup's beak is.

Scaup

Scaup

Scaup

Scaup

Job done, just this once I went straight home. Just to show I can do it.

Wirral

Goosander, West Kirby 

It was a dull, grey, mizzly sort of a day so I went to the seaside.

A black redstart's been bobbing about Meols the past few days so I thought I'd look out for that as well as catching up with a few waders. A report this morning had it on a rooftop near Meols Station so I decided I'd get off there, see if I could spot the redstart then wander along the prom to Leasowe Lighthouse and see what was around before moving on to someplace else. I particularly wanted to get a lot of walking in today because the past few days the leg joints have been Hell and the stiffness needs walking out.

I got off at Meols and glanced over to the anglers' lodge next to the station, expecting the usual square root of nothing at all. The three cormorants cruising about can't have been popular with the anglers over the other side.

Meols was filled with singing robins, woodpigeons, great tits and blackbirds. Goldfinches twittered about, spadgers chunnered in gardens, herring gulls flew overhead and I couldn't see any likely candidate for a black redstart. Which saved me the embarrassment of staring intently at somebody's rooftop while wishing I didn't have to leave the binoculars in the bag. It's not unreasonable to think a black redstart might be around here, in Germany they call them house redstarts, to differentiate them from the common garden redstarts. The first ones I ever saw were nesting in a derelict mill, long since gentrified, in Manchester City Centre.

Meols beach at noon

The walk down to the prom wasn't as long as I remembered, then I realised I'm usually doing this stretch of the walk after walking over from Wallasey or Leasowe. The tide was incoming but still low with big stretches of exposed mud for the hordes of redshanks, knots and oystercatchers and the supporting cast of herring gulls, black-tailed godwits, curlews, shelducks and turnstones. A few pied wagtails skittered about the seawall with the turnstones. It was an age before I found any dunlins in the crowds and there weren't many of them. I found a distant greenshank before I found any of the dunlins. I hadn't quite appreciated just how dismal the light was until I saw the settings the camera was offering me when I started taking photographs. It was a day of perpetual twilight.

Redshank

Turnstones 

Turnstones 

Cormorants 

I walked along the revetment to the groyne, checking the grassy bank every so often, just in case the black redstart had come this way. (It did, but I didn't see it, it was reported in the area where the prom meets the revetment about an hour after I passed that way.)  Robins sang and pied wagtails bounced about but they were the only small songbirds I was seeing.

Walking to the groyne

Just past the groyne I bumped into some pied wagtails fly-catching on the revetment wall. One made me look more than twice, it was a male with a significantly paler grey back and sides to the other male in the group but not nearly anything like the clean silver grey of a white wagtail. My rule of thumb is that if I'm getting a good side-on view and can't be sure it's a white wagtail within ten seconds then it's a pied wagtail. 

Pied wagtail 
A pale individual but I don't think pale enough to be a white wagtail. 

Pied wagtail
An extremely dark bird, no question about him.

Incoming tide at the groyne

Looking over to Wallasey and Liverpool 

Beyond the groyne the tide was rushing in despite its being more than an hour to high tide. Scores of oystercatchers huddled on receding mudbanks until the water reached their ankles before flying off into the Dee Estuary. The herring gulls and lesser black-backs waited until the sea floated them off; a few flew inland to join their fellows on the industrial estate, most were content to loaf on the water.

Blackthorn 

I climbed up the revetment and dropped down into Leasowe Common where a Cetti's warbler singing in the reeds by the pond was competing with the combined efforts of the robins and greenfinches in the trees. Chiffchaffs bounced through the willows in the company of long-tailed tits and great tits and a couple assayed a bit of song. Half a dozen mallards appeared and disappeared like magic into the reeds while moorhens played peekaboo in the margins. 

Carrion crows
It's not just the waders come inland for the high tide roost.

I'd been hearing redwings but it wasn't until I was walking past the paddock by Lingham Lane I saw any. A mixed flock of thrushes was busy in one corner, equal numbers of redwings and blackbirds with a couple of song thrushes. One of the redwings was darker than the others, I first saw it front-on and almost mistook it for another song thrush the spotting on its underpants being so dense and the background colour an orange shade of buff. This was a bird from Iceland, the subspecies coburni. It's been a couple of years since I've identified one, I've never knowingly seen groups of them though that's probably my lack of fieldcraft rather than a lack of Icelandic redwings.

Much to my surprise, the singing greenfinches, goldfinches and dunnocks singing by the lighthouse were joined by another Cetti's warbler.

Oystercatchers, curlews and black-tailed godwits shared Kerr's Field with teals, woodpigeons and pied wagtails. I had a good look round just in case my first wheatear of the year was about. No wheatear but I found another mid-grey male pied wagtail to puzzle over. It'll be a couple of weeks before these fields become a magnet for passage migrants. I had a quick look at the last field before the drain and found some more oystercatchers, woodpigeons and pied wagtails. And my first silvery-backed male pied wagtail of the year.

I got the train from Moreton to Manor Road and walked down to the lifeboat station. If the tide was coming in it should be pushing waders into the salt marsh close to the promenade. The tide may have been in according to the tide tables, it looked like it had no intention of doing so on the ground. It lapped the mud a hundred yards out and couldn't wait to run away again. I watched the distant shelducks, redshanks and curlews in the gloom and the little egret rummaging about in the marsh and pondered the complete lack of linnets or pipits out there. All the pied wagtails were following the lawn mower on Parade Gardens.

Hoylake Beach

It was a shorter walk to the bus stop than the station and the bus to West Kirby was due in a few minutes so I got that. (The Saveaway I'd bought includes both bus and rail.) I got myself a cup of tea and a pastie and sat by the marine lake for a bit before having the walk around it.

West Kirby Marine Lake, Little Eye and Hilbre on the horizon

There were fewer turnstones and redshanks about the promenade than on my last visit but the tide was very quickly on the ebb this time, they had a lot of estuary to play on. A mute swan cygnet, nearly all moulted white now, loafed by the jetty with a bunch of black-headed gulls. The herring gulls around the marine lake were busy picking mussels and cracking them on the path by dropping them from a height. They were careful not to go high enough for another gull to be able to swoop in a grab the prize before they could.

Dee Estuary 

I left attempting the identification of the distant waders until I was walking the seaward path, the cormorants and brent geese were easy enough to pick out though. The lake was fairly quiet, the only ducks being a pair of goosanders and a goldeneye over the way and a pair of mallards dabbling by the boatyard.

Redshanks, knots and oystercatchers 

There were masses of redshanks and oystercatchers on the estuary and they were making plenty of noise as they set about feeding. The high tide was but a memory and most of the waders smaller than a redshank were unidentifiable dots in the gloom. Mercifully for my morale a handful of dunlins skittered about the mud near the path.

Dunlin

North Wales 

Dee Estuary on the left, marine lake on the right

A dark band of birds followed the retreating tide to the channel of the Dee. Most were oystercatchers with redshanks tagging along behind. I almost missed the two grey plovers dashing about the crowd, it was the sudden darts and stops that put me onto them. The distant sound of ancient tramp steamers was provided by the scores of brent geese grazing on seaweed-covered rocks.

Goosander

The pair of goosanders very obligingly stayed on this side of the lake and came quite close to the path as they were fishing. The goldeneye turned out to be a pair of goldeneyes.

Goosanders

Goosander

Goldeneyes 

I was halfway round the lake when I realised the joints had stopped hurting and I was walking freely. Job done in more sense than one. I completed the walk and got the next train back to Liverpool. Unfortunately I just missed the direct train home. It was now that stupid couple of hours where Northern provides trains between Liverpool and Warrington and Manchester and Warrington that don't get into Warrington until the connecting service has left. I hung around for the Cleethorpes train, got off at Urmston then got the next train to Oxford Road and stayed on to get back home, like you have to. The journey back made a longer day of it than it already was but I wasn't going to let it spoil a surprisingly good day out.

West Kirby Marine Lake 

Wirral

Cormorant, New Brighton
(A carbo bird)

Yesterday was cold and windy and I really didn't feel like battling against it so I had a writing day. Which finished just after 3am when I noticed the time. Today was cool rather than cold, probably because the wind had lessened considerably, so I headed over to the Wirral to see what was about. I've seen very few reports of purple sandpipers at New Brighton this Winter but you never know your luck so I'd go there first. Once I'd finished there I could the go over to West Kirby to see what was on the marine lake.

Turnstone, West Kirby

At Liverpool I just missed the New Brighton train so I headed over to West Kirby first. It was a very high tide, high enough for kayakers to ride over the seawall to the lake with plenty of clearance. Turnstones fussed about the car park end of the lake unheeding of people and not particularly fussed about dogs. Herring gulls and black-headed gulls bobbed about on the water, rather more herring gulls sat on the rooftops in town.

Red-breasted mergansers

Scaup

Walking down the promenade I soon started picking up red-breasted mergansers, half a dozen of them in total. Most were cruising about the seawall end but one pair steamed across the lake shadowing a group of goldeneyes. A drake scaup lead the way for a while until he dived and re-emerged where the goldeneyes had been half a minute ago.

Little Eye, Middle Eye and Hilbre from the marine lake

I carried on walking to the end of the lake, just in case anything else had drifted in, because I was feeling greedy. Nothing had but there were half a dozen common scoters out in the middle of the river. A couple of small flocks of knots and a few redshanks flew downstream to roost on Hilbre. Walking back I could see that Little Eye was covered with cormorants and a pair of great black-backs.

Dunlins and redshank

Redshanks and dunlins

I'd had my lunchtime walk so I headed over to New Brighton where the tide was on the point of turning and the redshanks were leaving the pontoon roost to chase the retreating tide. A few turnstones stayed behind and scuttled about amongst the black-headed gulls and herring gulls, a handful of dunlins caught up with their sleep. There was no sign of any purple sandpipers. A flock of starlings bustled about the promenade and pied wagtails skittered about the car park.

New Brighton 

The emerging beach was dotted with black-headed gulls and redshanks. The sea defences to the lighthouse were littered with oystercatchers and cormorants. I walked down past Fort Perch to the river. The sea defences there were crowded with cormorants. All the dumpy waders scuttling about were turnstones. Upstream three sanderlings and a dunlin played tig with the tide.

Cormorants
(The adult on the left is a sinensis bird.)

Great black-back, cormorants and herring gulls

On the way back I noticed that the herring gulls were joining the black-headed gulls on the beach. I'd noticed a very noisy first-Winter bird begging from its parent on the cinema roof when I arrived. They'd moved down to the tideline and it was still nothing doing as far as a free meal was concerned.

Herring gulls
A first-Winter begging from a parent.

Herring gulls
A pair, female on the left. They'd been doing heads-raised courtship displays just before this picture was taken. I waited for them to resume the display but they'd other plans.

It was still early afternoon, I felt I should be able to fit another site into the day's itinerary but I hit a wall of weariness. Thinking that quarter of an hour's sit down might get me a second wind I got the 411 bus to Hamilton Square Station. It didn't work, I called it a day. I went back home via Wrexham. Like you do.

West Kirby

Brent goose

It was a mild, wet day and I decided to have a visit to the seaside to get some of the cobwebs out of my head. I left behind a pile of feeders being plundered by a couple of dozen house sparrows and a dozen goldfinches and the return of three chaffinches — a male and two females — that first dropped by yesterday afternoon.

I decided to head for West Kirby, the tide would be a bit too low for finding waders at New Brighton or the stretch between Leasowe and Hoylake but they tend to feed in the estuary by West Kirby and there's always the chance of something at the marine lake.

Rather than hanging round Lime Street waiting for the West Kirby train I got the New Brighton train, got off at Birkenhead North and waited there. There's nearly always a fair number of herring gulls about here. I'd always assumed it was due to the proximity of the docks. Checking the local bird reports to see what was about I found that there's a recycling depot just down the road from the station car park. Three Caspian gulls had been reported and I was tempted to nip over in the rain and try my luck. Then the train arrived and I decided I'd give it a go on my way back.

West Kirby Marine Lake 

The rain fizzled out and the sun poked its way through holes in the cloud as I arrived at West Kirby and walked down to the marine lake. I'd no sooner got there when I noticed a dozen pale-bellied brent geese nibbling at the eel grass just off the slipway. A chap asked me if I'd seen the scaup that had been on the lake, he'd had no luck and he'd bumped into another birdwatcher who'd fared no better. I wished him better luck and set off on the sea wall path around the lake.

Brent geese

The brent geese were remarkably confiding, if they were rarities they'd immediately have been dismissed as escapes from a collection. As it was, they were genuinely wild birds that weren't much fussed by people but quietly drifted out into the water at the first sight of a passing dog. They weren't camera-shy either though it was hard work getting myself between them and the sun.

Brent geese

Brent geese

Brent geese

Brent geese

Looking over the Dee Estuary to Wales

West Kirby Marine Lake 

Redshanks

As expected there were plenty of waders on the estuary, thinly dispersed but not as thinly as they would be at Hoylake or Meols. Redshanks skittered about near the marine lake, further out towards the River Dee curlews and groups of oystercatchers probed the mud. Turning and looking out over to Hilbre all I could identify were the carrion crows dotted about the sands.

Redshanks 

Redshanks 

I was having no luck finding a scaup, either. A pair of goldeneyes were the only ducks I was finding out there. They were a nice consolation prize, I don't often get to see them on the Wirral.

Halfway round I bumped into a second, smaller, gaggle of brents. They were heading off to join the others. It struck me that all the geese were silent, even when the two groups eventually got together.

There were plenty of herring gulls about and they weren't shy of letting everyone know they were about, shouting the odds at they flew about or calling from rooftops. The few black-headed gulls that were about were mostly content to quietly loaf by the lake.

Brent geese 

Brent goose 
I think, from the uniformly grey flanks and indistinct collar this is a first-Winter bird.

I reached the top curve and looked up the estuary. Shelducks, curlews and oystercatchers wandered about the open mud, redshanks skittered about in creeks and puddles. A flock of knots rose and fell by the distant river, a couple of knots were closer to hand on the mud. Most of the small figures dashing about between the shelducks were dunlins though I managed to pick up a couple of ringed plovers. I had no luck finding turnstones on the rocks or about the lake.

Looking up the Dee Estuary 

I completed the circuit of the lake. Cormorants and the goldeneyes were the only diving birds I'd been seeing. The brent geese had split up again, one group staying by the slipway and the other chugging along beside the sea wall. The chap I'd bumped into was on the promenade, he'd not seen the scaup but was happy to have seen the goldeneyes, which is plenty fair enough.

I headed back and got off at Birkenhead North. I didn't hold out much luck at finding any Caspian gulls in a crowd at a recycling centre but I'd have no chance at all if I didn't try. I gave all the herring gulls in the car park a good staring at, it would be just like me to walk past my quarry en route. They were all herring gulls, including a surprisingly young looking bird begging and still being fed by its parent.

I'd walked up to Wallasey Bridge Road when a cloud of herring gulls rose from the recycling depot and circled round. I had mixed feelings: while it made it more likely I might be able to find anything that wasn't a herring gull while they were all wheeling about in flight, they were all wheeling about in a big crowd. A lone great black-back stood out like a sore thumb, its size alone calling attention to itself. Then I saw something a bit big for a herring gull but entirely the wrong shape for a great black-back, as if someone had stretched a herring gull by holding it by the head and tail and pulling. It definitely wasn't an adult bird and wasn't a first-Winter either, I've seen Caspian gulls of these ages and been comfortable ageing them. I tentatively aged this as a third-Winter bird by the white head and streaky neck. 

The train arrived at Lime Street ten minutes before my direct train home. I took the hint and went home. I'd had a very pleasant walk, added to the year list and I'd been luckier than I deserved with that Caspian gull.