Martin Mere

Moorhen chick

It's going to be a coo what a scorcher bank holiday weekend so I thought I'd best get a visit to Martin Mere in before it all kicks off. Most years we have a few weeks' gradation between Britain Shivers and Coo What A Scorcher but this year we're doing it over four days and I'm not convinced my system's quite caught up yet. It felt odd leaving all the coats at home, including the Summer raincoat. I had an atavistic yearning for a Packamac. It wasn't needed.

Some of the nests in the rookery by Burscough Bridge Station are either still active or active again. Most probably they are latecomers or pairs whose first attempt was predated and they're hoping second time lucky.

By Red Cat Lane 

The walk down Red Cat Lane to Martin Mere was oddly quiet but busy. The noise of rooks and jackdaws in the ploughed field just outside town gave way to the hints of woodpigeons, starlings and skylarks in the arable fields beyond. Robins, blackbirds chiffchaffs and goldfinches sang in the trees and hedges. Swallows and house martins twittered overhead, and all the more when a kestrel passed by. A yellow wagtail flew across the road from Curlew Lane and disappeared into the depths of a field of corn and there was a close pass-by by a male marsh harrier. 

A little further on, and to my utter astonishment, I had a nice suprise. A bird caught my eye as it flew into one of the horse chestnuts across the road from Brandeth Barn. It didn't look right for a sparrow and had too much back end for a chaffinch so I had a quick shufti with the binoculars. I can't remember how many years it is since I last saw a corn bunting along here, I'd given up on them. A surprisingly sleek-looking female brought the year list to 181.

Oystercatcher 

At Martin Mere I dived into the Discovery Hide for a bit of shade as much as for the birds. It's that time of year when mallards and shelducks conduct trains of ducklings past nesting black-headed gulls and non-breeding oystercatchers gather to celebrate their lack of responsibilities. There were a few lapwings and Canada geese about the far side of the mere, they were heavily outnumbered by greylags.

Black-headed gulls and chicks

Black-headed gulls and chicks

A walk down to the Mere View Hide included an encounter with a grey squirrel kitten that was out unsupervised and hadn't a clue. When I encountered it on the way back it was sunbathing after exhausting itself by running up a lady's trouser leg.

This grey squirrel kitten hadn't worked out it was supposed to be scared of people

The songscape along the way was light but persistent: if you weren't hearing song thrushes and/or robins you were hearing blackbirds, blackcaps and/or chiffchaffs, with background helpings of wrens, woodpigeons, a Cetti's warbler and a sedge warbler. A whitethroat added to the concert at the Mere View Hide and a reed warbler was seen but not heard, which is a distinct reversal of the norm.

From the Ron Barker Hide
Out in the distance a whooper swan sits on its nest.

I'd barely sat down at the Ron Barker Hide before a chap asked if I'd seen the whooper swan on its nest. I'm used to there being the odd one or two lingering over Summer because they couldn't join the migration because of injury or whatever and the past couple of years there's usually been a couple lurking around this end of Langley's Brook, the drain heading away from the hide. This year they've decided they may as well make the most of it while they're here.

Swallow

A few black-headed gulls were also nesting, bothering any passing lesser black-backs or herring gulls to keep them moving on. A few mallards, gadwalls and greylags drifted listlessly on the pools. Swallows twittered about the drain, some of them settling down for ten seconds of song before getting back to the business of flying about twittering. The long grass in the field at the side of the marsh was high enough for the calves to just be disembodied ears and tops of heads careering about in a giddy fashion. The cattle egrets with them and their parents were only visible when they took flight or sat on one or other's backs.

The afternoon was but young and the weather dead clear so I headed for the reedbed walk. I didn't think I had the legs to do the long walk round but I wanted to check out at least some of the hides and I was desperate to see some dragonflies. I lingered on the bridges over the brooks and drains like some lovelorn sailor in a bad movie and just got pitying looks from mallards for my pains. No dragons, no damsels.

The pool at the Rees Hide was busy though most of the birds were a fair way away from the hide. Black-headed gulls sat on nests with avocets on sentry duty chasing off lesser black-backs, coots, lapwings, swallows, butterflies, whatever caught their eye. I almost missed a Mediterranean gull sitting amidst the mêlée.

Tufted ducks 

The birds were closer and the whole scene a little calmer at the Gordon Taylor Hide, except when male black-headed gulls brought sticks back to shore up the nest when the family was expecting dinner. Pairs of tufted ducks, shovelers and teals quietly cruised about in and out of the reeds and between the nesting islands.

Black-headed gull

Black-headed gulls 

Black-headed gulls and chick

On the way out I glanced over the bridge and a female banded demoiselle landed on the reeds just underneath. Just the one damselfly for the day but one is infinitely better than nothing.

Banded demoiselle

It was lazy afternoon time at the Harrier Hide. Mallards, greylags, gadwalls and shovelers dozed and a great crested grebe slowly cruised around to no apparent purpose.

Creeping buttercup and flax

It was busy-quiet again on the way back. There was another fly-by by the marsh harrier though this time he was well away from the road. The starlings and swallows were starting to settle on telegraph wires ready for their teatime singsong, some were already warming up. All in all the day was like that, a deceptively calm day's birdwatching that somehow got 69 species on the tally.

Marton Mere

White-winged black terns

Marton Mere's one of the many places I didn't get round to last year. Seeing a report of two (two!) white-winged black terns there first thing this morning decided me to head that way.

I got the train to Blackpool North and just missed the 61 bus that would have dropped me off at Paddock Drive and then a short walk into Marton Mere. The next bus was the 18, I got that to St Paul's Church, walked down Preston Old Road and joined the path into Marton Mere from Cornwall Place, half a mile's additional walk and quicker than waiting for the next 61.

Walking into Marton Mere 

This path took me into the West side of the reserve. The apple trees starting to set fruit amongst the hawthorns reminded me that a few Autumns ago I came here to watch a red-footed falcon amidst the background smell of cider and swarms of red admirals and hawker dragonflies. It wasn't that sort of day today, grey and mild and windy, the sort of day where the butterflies stay under cover and the year's dismal showing of dragonflies continues.

For all the grey and dull the chiffchaffs, blackcaps and a couple of willow warblers were in full song though outnumbered by song thrushes and all they outnumbered by Cetti's warblers. The Cetti's, as ever, offered tantalising glimpses of tops of heads and tail feathers disappearing into reeds.

Marton Mere

I had a sit down at the first Hide I came to to get the lay of the land. The reeds in front of the hide were seething with Cetti's warblers, reed buntings and song thrushes. At first glance there was little on the open water except for a mute swan and a fishing cormorant. A scan with the binoculars immediately established there was a swarm of swifts over the mere. It took me a while to find the swallows and house martins in the mix. It took next to no time to notice the couple of white-winged black terns zipping about with them.

White-winged black tern

White-winged black terns

White-winged black terns

Both terns showed brilliantly well, though they kept their distance. One bird was definitely an adult, black body and solidly silver white wings and tail. The other looked to have a few dusky patches on the wing coverts and may have been a subadult.

I managed to get one of the swifts in shot

The terns were a bit closer to the next hide along but largely hidden by reeds as they skimmed about just above the water.

Marton Mere 

Job done I had a potter about. Herring gulls and black-headed gulls fussed about the mere and a common tern paid it a fleeting visit. A couple of greylags called from the edge of the reedbed, a Canada goose looked to be sitting on a nest and the "What's that with those mallards in the corner?" turned out to be a drake gadwall. There was a bit of a twittering panic amongst the martins and swallows as a kestrel flew by. For all the extensive reedbeds there was an absence of reed warblers though a sedge warbler in one corner was trying to sing for a regiment. I finally started hearing reed warblers as the path neared the holiday village.

Main Dyke

I walked through the holiday village and got the 61 back to Blackpool North Station. I'd had a good birdwatching walk and it was nice to have had a long look a white-winged black terns, my first one last year was a youngster only offering fleeting views. I'd got myself an old man's explorer ticket so I took a meandering route home. When I got home the back garden was littered with baby blue tits. Which was nice.

Leighton Moss

Oystercatchers

It was a day of sunshine and thundery showers but at least the wind had calmed down a lot. I decided I'd visit Leighton Moss, if the weather turned dodgy I could shelter in the hides or get a cup of tea in the visitor centre and it wasn't a long walk for the train home.

I got the Barrow train and stayed on to Ulverston to have a look at the Morecambe Bay estuaries. As the train passed the coastal hides at Leighton Moss I could see there were plenty of mute swans and little egrets on the outer pools and a small flock of black-tailed godwits near the Eric Morecambe Hide. The pool by the Allen Hide is largely hidden from the train by trees, I could see bits of white islands which I guess would be the nesting black-headed gulls and it's likely there'd be avocets in there, too, as I didn't see any on the outer pools.

Small gaggles of greylags grazed in fields between Silverdale and Arnside. This time of year I'd expect to see plenty of swallows around Arnside, I just saw the one today. The salt marsh on the other side of the Kent was bone dry, a few jackdaws and carrion crows pottered about amongst the sheep. The salt marshes by the Leven were slightly wetter, a few pools had water and little egrets and greylags were dotted around.

A few pairs of eiders cruised on the Leven as the train passed over the viaduct, the drakes looking very spruce indeed. I wonder why the start of the year was so barren of them. The train startled a grey wagtail which flew up then returned to the rocks below, a flash of lemon yellow and grey. A couple of pairs of shelducks pottered about on the mud on the other side.

I had a quarter of an hour's wait at Ulverston. The station songscape was rich: blackbirds, robins and a song thrush did most of the work with a couple of wren solos; a blackcap and a chiffchaff sang further down the line. The lesser black-backs outnumbered the herring gulls but it was herring gulls that seemed to be sitting on nests, I'd seen a couple of lesser black-backs on nests on the edge of town on the way in.

There were about a dozen eiders on the inland side of the Leven viaduct on the way back to Silverdale, and also a common sandpiper on the mud. The first red deer of the day watched the train pass by just outside Cark, another was browsing the marsh by the Kent.

I got off at Silverdale Station where the house sparrows were bustling about their business and walked round to Leighton Moss. The weather was fine but some of the clouds upwind looked ominous. I kept my fingers crossed.

Though the feeders have been taken down by the Hideout there was still plenty of activity in the trees and bushes nearby. Chiffchaffs, robins and blackcaps sang and the mallards seemed to be getting by tidying up after picnics.

Getting a record photo of one of the little gulls (the white blob in the middle of the picture) would have been a challenge beyond my capability even before the camera's autofocus locked on the photo-bombing black-headed gull 

There was a clamour from the black-headed gulls nesting at Lilian's Hide. I'd barely sat down before I noticed there was a little gull amongst the cloud of black-headed gulls and swifts wheeling about the other side of the pool . In fact, there were two, both first-calendar-year birds. A few pairs of gadwalls, mallards and pochards pottered about and a shoveler dozed in the reeds. I also noticed that the great black-backs were back to nesting on the osprey platform in the distance. A big vote of thanks to the chap who spotted a bittern flying over the reeds over towards the causeway. 

Black-headed gulls on their nests

The willow scrub on the way to the reedbeds was quietly busy. The chiffchaffs gave way to the willow warblers, with backing vocals from Reed warblers and just the one Cetti's warbler, and a sedge warbler sang in the willows behind the seat at the corner. Great tits and robins fossicked about the pathside, blue tits bounced about in the trees, all were quiet and too busy to be bothered with people.

Heading for the reedbeds

The weather's been so cool lately it's been dismal for dragonflies and butterflies. I'd only seen the one damselfly so far this year, a blue-tailed damselfly at Pennington Flash. I added a couple more to the tally today, and was as slow on the uptake at identifying what I was looking at as I had been then.

For all that the swifts were swarming over the pools and drains there weren't many hirundines about, just a couple of swallows and a house martin. Perhaps they were all over at the causeway pool. Looking at the train times and the big black cloud looming over the horizon I wasn't going to be going that way today. Reed buntings, reed warblers and greenfinches sang in the reedbeds. I was struck by how dry the ground was, the margins by the path were hard-baked mud despite the cool weather. I thought I could hear bearded tits but concluded it was wishful thinking and dried reed stems cracking in the breeze.

The main drain through Leighton Moss 

A chap walking back enthused about the good views he'd been having of bitterns at the Griesdale Hide so i headed that way first. It was heaving, standing room only, I didn't linger. A few red deer hinds grazing by the side of the hide were the highlight. A couple of rolls of thunder reminded me to watch the time for the last reliable train home of the afternoon.

Oystercatchers
The changing of the guard on the nest.

It was considerably calmer at the Tim Jackson Hide. Gadwalls dabbled and bathed, mallards and coots sat on nests and kept beady eyes on a heron stalking round. The oystercatchers were back on their usual nest stop the sand martin nest box, one feeding on the mud and one sitting, until the time came to swap places. My only marsh harrier of the day, a female, drifted over from the coastal hides and headed towards the Griesdale Hide.

Walking back through the reedbeds 

On the walk back I could definitely hear bearded tits. I wondered where they were then a female flew across the path right in front of me and disappeared into the reeds. A fleeting view but it's always gratifying to get a close encounter with them away from the grit trays.

The sparrows were still busy at Silverdale Station, as was a coal tit ferrying food to its nest. The wind suddenly blew up and the sky went black. It started heaving down a couple of minutes before the train arrived. I couldn't complain, I'd struck very lucky with the birdwatching.

Leigh bumper bundle

Buzzard, Byrom Hall Wood

I really wasn't in the mood for doing anything at all today, it was even an effort to make a pot of tea. I saw the reports of an osprey at Pennington Flash. I wondered if I should go and see if I could see it. According the the reports the bird was at the West End in the area where Hey Brook runs into the flash. I could walk in from Slag Lane along the path past Mossley Hall then onto Byrom Lane to the sailing club, a very different type of walk to the usual one around the hides on the East side. After passing through the woodland edge by Slag Lane there's a long stretch of meadows and reedbeds which give views of the flash between the trees. If the osprey was in one of the trees along here or fishing over this end of the flash I might have a chance of seeing it. It would be hard luck if it was in the trees on the private land around Mossley Hall though in that case I might strike lucky from near the sailing club. And I had every expectation I'd be unlucky anyway, there hadn't been any reports of it since early doors and it had probably moved on.

So off I went.

I got the 588 to Plank Lane, got off just after the canal bridge and walked down Slag Lane and joined the path opposite the recycling centre. Robins, blackbirds, blackcaps and chiffchaffs sang by the roadside and willow warblers and song thrushes could be heard in the trees beyond. There were plenty more in the trees as I walked down the path.

The path to Mossley Hall 

The path crossed Hey Brook and I soon came out into more open meadow landscape and I caught my first sight of the flash, largely hidden by trees and reeds. The songs of a couple of reed warblers drifted over the meadows. A sedge warbler belted out a number from a bramble patch next to the path. Some angry words from passing jackdaws were directed at a sparrowhawk rising on the thermals above the meadows.

Pennington Flash 

I wasn't seeing anything larger than a woodpigeon in any of the trees by the flash, and not many of they. A few lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls flew by and jackdaws passed to and from overhead. I reached a large meadow with an open view of the flash and had a scan round. I couldn't see anything in any of the trees on either side of the flash. On the water there were mute swans by the near bank with pairs of gadwalls and tufted ducks. Further out, pairs of great crested grebes cruised about. A moment's flutter as a large white shape flew in was caused by a young great black-back.

Meadows by Pennington Flash 

I spent a few minutes allowing myself to be diverted by the orange tip butterflies skittering about the meadow before returning to the search. If I had no joy I'd walk on to the sailing club and try my luck. A few herring gulls flew past to join the raft of large gulls I could see in the distance. A heron flew into the mouth of the brook. Then I noticed something large rising above the rucks over on the other side of the flash, a big pale bird doing lazy circles as it rose on the thermals. I had a look through my binoculars fully expecting it to be another great black-back. It wasn't. Even at this distance it was obviously the osprey, luckily for me there's not a right lot looks like an osprey that isnt one. It came closer to the flash as it circled and I had a moment's hope it might be coming this way but it headed back and it soon became apparent that the circles were drifting over towards Plank Lane. I kept watching, just in case, but it kept its distance. Ah well, I'd had my bit of luck and seen it.

As I stood wondering what I wanted to do next a bird shot over at treetop height. "That's a dark-looking kestrel," said the boy birdwatcher looking at a hobby through his binoculars. In my defence, I'd had my surprise of the day with the osprey and wasn't expecting a bonus bird within a few minutes. Luckily it was a big open area so the bird kept in view long enough for the penny to drop.

Helmeted guineafowl

I'd learned my lesson and was on as close to an alert as I can manage these days as I followed the path past Mossley Hall and on to Byrom Lane. I was watching swallows zinging about when I realised there was a soft chuckling noise coming from the field behind me. The flock of guineafowl were almost hidden in the grass.

On reaching Byrom Lane I decided not to head for the sailing club then walk round to St Helens Road. Instead, I turned and walked back to Slag Lane, crossed the road and walked through Byrom Hall Wood into Lowton. 

Heading for Byrom Hall Wood 

It was a nice day and a nice walk. Swallows flitted about the farm buildings at Byrom Hall. A buzzard called as it floated by and off towards Abram. Three lapwings looked to.be headed for Pennington Flash. Greenfinches and whitethroats sang in the fields and hedgerows. Blackcaps, robins, chiffchaffs, willow warblers, blackbirds and wrens sang in the woods. Titmice quietly bounced through the trees, goldfinches twittered, and young magpies rattled at parents that expected them to get their own dinners by now.

Byrom Hall Wood 

A nice gnarly oak

Thinking I was taking a route straight through to Wigan Road I took a meandering footpath that seemed to go round the back of every house on the estate. I eventually got to Wigan Road and didn't have long to wait for the 610 and the start of the long journey home.

Leighton Moss

Avocets

I was extremely overdue a walk down to the coastal hides at Leighton Moss so I thought I'd take advantage of a fine Spring day to do so. The lesser yellowlegs that had been reported earlier in the week had moved on so there was no pressure, I was just going to see what I was going to see.

There was a thin smattering of woodpigeons, blackbirds and corvids along the line as the Barrow train went on its way. I stayed on until Ulverston to have a look on the estuaries, but mostly because I somehow still don't have eider on the year list. Much to my relief, half a dozen of them were loafing on a mudbank by the viaduct as the train passed over the Leven. Otherwise it was rather quiet, a handful of redshanks and a few black-headed gulls. Along the way the little egrets peppered about wet fields and saltmarshes were balanced by the empty beaches abandoned by gulls busy on their breeding patches.

Blue tit

The gulls don't seem to be breeding on Ulverston Station this year though there were plenty kicking about. The lesser black-backs outnumbered the herring gulls five to one. Blue tits fidgeted in the trees by the platform.

On the way back to Silverdale I noticed there was activity amongst the little egrets on the heronry (egretry?) at Meathop.

Heading for the coastal hides

The walk down from the station to the coastal hides was accompanied by a varied selection of bird song. Blackcaps, chiffchaffs, wrens, willow warblers, chaffinches and song thrushes sang in the trees, Cetti's warblers sang from the rank vegetation in the land drains, reed warblers from the reeds and flags in the larger drains, and a couple of skylarks sang above the fields.

Greylag

Gaggles of greylags grazed the fields in the company of jackdaws and carrion crows. There's no good reason why the hooded crow that had been around at the beginning of the year should make a comeback especially for me but I checked around for it anyway, just in case. A pair of cock pheasants decided to have a stand-off and punch-up by the roadside as I passed.

Pheasants

Heading for the coastal hides from the car park 

The black-headed gulls colony on the pools by the coastal hides could be heard from the car park. Chiffchaffs, blackcaps and willow warblers sang in the trees by the car park, whitethroats and Cetti's warblers joining in as I walked through the open reedy scrub. I had to tiptoe past the peacock butterflies sunning themselves on the path. Dabchicks hinneyed loudly from the reedbeds on the other side of the railway tracks.

Black-headed gulls and oystercatcher

I went to the Allen Hide first. The avocets on the pool tried, and failed, to compete with the black-headed gulls for noise. Some of the gulls were sitting on nests, there were a lot of courting couples and they were all squabbling like mad. The avocets were mostly paired up but were spending their time feeding, when they weren't picking fights with other passing avocets.

Avocets

Avocets

Avocets

Avocet

Avocet

Pochard

A couple of pairs of pochards and a pair of shovelers kept to the bank margins away from the crowds.

Black-tailed godwits, black-headed gull and avocet

There weren't so many black-headed gulls and avocets on the pool in front of the Eric Morecambe Hide. There were masses of roosting black-tailed godwits. A band of them on the pool stood out immediately, it took binoculars to appreciate the crowds of waders covering the marsh like the icing on a cake. There was at least one bar-tailed godwit in the crowd on the pool. 

Knots and black-tailed godwits

Black-headed gulls and redshanks

Redshank

Redshanks pottered about, shrimping and fly-catching in the pool. A couple of spotted redshanks kept to themselves in a far corner. Oystercatchers and shelducks loafed on the marsh, a party of shelducks flew in and started courting on a far pool. I took far too long making sure that it was the silhouette of a red-breasted merganser cruising round the pool, it was lying so low in the water it looked half its real size. Half a dozen wigeon grazed by the fence at the side, almost hidden in the grass. There were a few mute swans on the pools further out, I almost took the spoonbill further along for another one until it got up for a walk.

Walking back to the road half a dozen sand martins twittered about the telegraph lines.

There were more sand martins on the way back to the station and a couple of swallows passed low over the fields. In the mid distance I saw a couple of female marsh harriers floating over the reedbeds of Leighton Moss, and a couple of lapwings taking exception to them. Blackbirds, goldfinches and dunnocks joined the already rich songscape along the roadside.

Black-headed gull

I had an hour and a bit to wait for the through train to Manchester so I had a potter about Leighton Moss. I spent most of the time at Lilian's Hide watching the black-headed gulls on their nests, though the grass on the rafts was high enough to almost hide them. A few tufted ducks, pochards and gadwalls cruised about on the pool. Possibly the same couple of female marsh harriers skimmed the tops of the reedbeds in the distance. A cloud of sand martins hawked high above the pool.

I wandered down as far as the corner of the reedbed, hoping I might bump into a marsh tit. Other titmice quietly went about their business in the depths of the willows but I couldn't find any marsh tits. 

Cowslips

I called it quits as it was time to head for the train. This one was the last train with an almost reasonable connection home, the choice between a twenty minute wait for a bus or forty minutes for the train. It had been an excellent day out, I didn't want to end it playing Robinson Crusoe in Manchester.