Colwyn Bay

Cormorants
There wasn't any shortage of perches, the original sitter was evicted just out of spite.

The train services are going to be bedlam next week, Manchester Piccadilly is closed for something or other again. I thought I'd best get one or two of the long-distance jaunts done and dusted this week, trains and weather permitting.

February's a good time for checking out the rafts of common scoters in Colwyn Bay. There are reports of a surf scoter this week (is it the same one every year?), it would be good to get them both on the year list and it's a very nice walk from the station to Old Colwyn.

Colwyn Bay Pier

Arriving at Colwyn Bay it's literally just a matter of walking out of the station, taking the footpath under the line and hey presto! there's the pier. The tide was lowish but on the turn. It doesn't go out very far here compared Liverpool Bay so seawatching was a practicable option.

Looking over towards Old Colwyn 

Seawatching's an odd business. You arrive, you look at the sea through your binoculars, not a sausage save a few waves. Then half a minute in you start seeing objects on the waves and half a minute after that you start recognising them. The weather was on my side today, dull but with good visibility up to about five miles, though the wind farm on the horizon was misty. Bright, sunny weather can bring out so much glare and contrast on the water you can't see anything properly. I had a fighting chance today and was soon seeing distant black blobs which eventually resolved themselves into scores of drake common scoters. I couldn't work out if I couldn't see any female scoters because they were too far away for me to pick up or if they just weren't there.

Herring gulls

I walked along a bit. Robins and a coal tit sang from the railway embankment. Herring gulls and black-headed gulls flew about making a racket, perched on lampposts and made a racket or bathed in the sea and made a racket. Cormorants perched on marker cones. Great crested grebes dived in the surf after dabs. I'm always surprised there aren't more waders here, I suppose it's because it's such a short beach and the promenade is always busy with people. Turnstones never seem unduly fussed by people, a dozen of them were busy throwing seaweed about by the car park.

Turnstones

The further I walked the more scoters I was seeing, there were hundreds of them out there with hints of plenty more beyond as every so often a stocky black speck would fly across the waves. Some of the rafts drifted closer inland but still well beyond my camera's capabilities (don't think I didn't try and don't think I didn't bin the results). I started to be able to pick out a few female scoters but they were still very heavily outnumbered by the drakes. A couple of paler objects had me baffled. Luckily they were drifting forward slower than I was walking and after a good five minutes' worth of head-scratching and bad language I finally recognised them as a pair of red-breasted mergansers. It was worth the effort, though, as the raft of scoters they were shadowing included a drake velvet scoter. I very much doubt if I could have picked it out with binoculars had it not raised itself up and given its wings a good stretch, letting me see the big which patch on each of them.

The sea was drifting in as I walked into Old Colwyn

A lady stopped me and asked me what was out there. She'd seen a group of people with telescopes on the fisherman's pier in Old Colwyn and here was me with a pair of bins. She was surprised to hear there were thousands of ducks out there every Winter and even more so when I lent her the bins and she could see a lot of them.

Looking back to Colwyn Bay

I walked down into Old Colwyn and stared out to sea from the fisherman's pier. If the surf scoter was about I wasn't seeing it, or was seeing it but not being able to identify it at that distance. I wasn't terribly disappointed, I'd got two out of the three species of scoter on offer onto my year list and had an exceedingly pleasant walk.

Old Colwyn 

I checked the train times and found that if I put a shift on I could get the next train back. I got it with four minutes to spare. I was ever so glad there was a trolley service and I could have a cup of tea.

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 

Bempton

Gannet

I thought I'd best use up one of those return ticket to anywhere on the Northern network passes as there's more coming in the post. It was going to be a nice day so I headed for Bempton.

The connection with the Sheffield train at Manchester's a bit tight but usually there isn't a problem. Today my train into Manchester was late so I missed the connection. Rather than waiting another hour I bought a single to Leeds, caught the train from there to Hull and picked up the train to Bempton I'd been aiming for in the first place.

It was a nice day and I was dressed for the cold morning I'd set out in. No matter, it wasn't uncomfortably warm and there was a nice light breeze to keep everything fresh. The rooks in the fields by the station were extremely noisy, the great tits and robins in the hedgerows made themselves known and a collared dove sang by the village pub.

Cliff Road 

The hedgerows just outside the village were stiff with house sparrows. Further down a few chaffinches and a couple of yellowhammers flitted about in the trees down a side lane. It had become a day warm enough to have red admirals sunning themselves on the footpath.

Tree sparrow 

Approaching Bempton Cliffs I could hear tree sparrows. When I arrived they were chasing each other around the telegraph poles. The Dell had been hosting a pretty collection of passage migrants last week. Today it was "just" fizzing with tree sparrows, chaffinches, blackbirds and blue tits. Many of the tree sparrows were fussing around the nest boxes in the Dell and on the visitor centre.

Tree sparrow 

Bempton Cliffs 

It was a much quieter walk down to the cliffs than on my last visit. All the auks, fulmars and kittiwakes had gone but there were plenty of gannets about and there seemed to be a passage of herring gulls all flying South. The sea was peppered with gannets, nearly all of them adults. Every so often I'd think I'd found a diver and it would be a juvenile gannet recently left the nest. It was worth the looking round anyway as a couple of common dolphins were swimming just offshore.

Gannets

Gannet

Gannets 

Gannets 

Jackdaw

I had a pleasant wander round, watching a kestrel hovering over the fields, hearing the jackdaws and crows, and wondering if I kept seeing the same three pigeons flying around and why they weren't with the crowds on the cliffs.

The view inland from the cliffs

I had another scout round the trees and bushes round the car park and the Dell. Greenfinches and goldfinches had joined the chaffinches and a mixed tit flock included some very confiding goldcrests that allowed me to take some there-was-a-warbler-there-a-moment-ago photos.

There was a goldcrest there a moment ago 

As I walked back to the station the starlings were flocking onto the chimney pots of Bempton, the rooks were calling and a chiffchaff at the station threatened to sing.

I got the train to Sheffield and thence home. Along the way I became so used to seeing pairs of roe deer in fields I almost didn't realise the figures in a field outside Driffield were a couple of red deer hinds.

Gannets
There were still a few youngsters on the cliffs.

Holyhead

Shag diving for dinner

I had an embarrassment of complimentary travel vouchers burning a hole in my pocket so I used half of them for a day out to Anglesey. It's a lot late for the nesting seabirds at South Stack so I decided I'd have a proper explore of Holyhead Harbour and the breakwater.

Newton-le-Willows was a new addition to my list of railway stations what have a buzzard sitting in a tree, a chunky, earth-brown bird that glared at the train as it left the station. It was a day for seeing buzzards, there were a few more in the Cheshire countryside and yet more flying low over the fields of Anglesey.

It was a lovely day for a train ride along the North Wales coastline. The tide was high, there was just enough mud left for a few shelducks and a big flock of black-headed gulls on the coast just North of Mostyn, beyond that the waves lapped seawalls. Little egrets and herons haunted salt marshes, carrion crows, jackdaws and rooks rummaged in fields, herring gulls and woodpigeons sat on chimney pots and starlings on wireless antennae. Mute swans and little egrets peppered the big island on the marine lake at Rhyl, a crowd of little egrets clustered by the viaduct over the Clwyd.

Crossing over onto Anglesey the flocks of rooks became more frequent as the train passed through sheep farming country. A big flock of greylags grazed near Llyn Coron just after Bodorgan Station, there was a bigger one near Rhosneigr Station.

The Old Harbour 

I got off the train and wandered over the Old Harbour into Holyhead. I stopped for a look round, as well as the inevitable herring gulls and pigeons there were a couple of shags and a sleeping guillemot. Black guillemots frequent the harbour and I got my hopes up but this bird had all dark upperparts so was definitely a common guillemot. (In Summer, black guillemots are black top and bottom with big white patches on their wings, in Winter they're nearly all white with flecks of black on their backs and a broken black margin to those white wing patches.)

Instead of my usual walk across the town centre and out for South Stack I walked beside the harbour along Victoria Road. At the top of the road there's a gap by the houses looking over an inlet of the New Harbour. Herring gulls and oystercatchers dozed on rocks, a heron was asleep on an island and a couple more shags were out fishing in the water.

Rock pipit

I carried on round the road and dropped down to the promenade next to the Maritime Museum. The sea was lapping at the seawall and a rock pipit was skittering over the rocks by the seawall. One of the shags was fishing close enough to try and get its photo. Unlike the only black guillemot of the day which was out in midwater by the boats. It was in Winter whites, the first time I've seen this plumage, and at first I took it for one of the little buoys marking the harbour pathways. Then I realised what it was then convinced myself I was right first time and was only sure about it when it dived underwater and bobbed back up again fifty yards further out.

Shag 

Holyhead Mountain from the marina 

A nosy round the marina found a lot more herring gulls and a few black-headed gulls and carrion crows, and redshanks and oystercatchers dozed in pairs on the rocks. A way over I could see people walking the length of the breakwater (it's about a mile and a half long). I reckoned I could try a bit of seawatching on there so I took the path to Breakwater Road.

Along the way I took a detour. A rough path led into some woodland so I followed it, adding chiffchaffs and titmice to the day's tally. Then I got to a bit where the path had collapsed down a bank. I'd have crossed the gap in younger, dafter days but I decided not to risk it on untrustworthy knees and turned back. Along the way I spent a while trying to get a photo of an ichneumon wasp that was hunting on a bit of stone wall.

Ichneumon wasp 

The path had evidently been a private road to the castellated Victorian ruin on Breakwater Road. Parts ran along high banks thick with ivy, hart's tongue ferns and polypody. Elsewhere there were high walls thick with ivy and fizzing with insects. Commas, red admirals and speckled woods feasted on the ivy flowers, bees and hoverflies buzzed, Southern hawkers snatched small flies out of the air in passing. It felt very much like Summer.

Red admiral 

Comma

Goldfinches, great tits and robins flitted to and fro between the trees on either side of the road.

Goldfinches
When they sit still it isn't easy to pick out goldfinches from dead leaves but as they never sit still the problem doesn't arise.

A picturesque ruin

The breakwater, the New Harbour on the right, the Irish Sea on the left 

I had hoped that when I got onto the breakwater I'd get a closer look at the black guillemot and perhaps find some more but no luck in either case. In fact nearly all the birds were more distant than they had been from the marina. The seawatching was the typical combination of optimism, patience and frustration tempered by a couple of moments of triumph. Nearly all the birds I could see were gulls, mostly herring gulls with a few black-headed gulls and a couple of passing great black-backs. Just as my spirits were flagging a juvenile gannet flew by one of the great black-backs. Crows had been flying across the harbour. One flying over the sea took my eye as it looked a lot broad-winged, even more so than a rook, but I concluded it was just a trick of the angle I was seeing it by. Then it called a few times and headed off up and over to Holyhead Mountain and I added chough to the year list. How I missed a dirty long red bill I do not know.

Snowdonia from the end of thf breakwater

The New Harbour

Wheatear 

A rock pipit jumped over the seawall on my approach. A wheatear kept its nerve but also kept its distance. It was a young bird in fresh plumage and the white tips of the tail puzzled me until I worked that out.

Wheatear

I walked the length of the breakwater and walked back. An adult gannet passed by on the open sea about a quarter of a mile out. Glancing down at the path I realised that despite the island being made up of Pre-Cambrian gneisses that had been folded and compressed and partially melted under high pressure the breakwater has been dressed in fossiliferous Carboniferous limestone.

Rugose corals, possibly Lithiostrotion

The walk back to the station was uneventful except the bit where I was forcibly reminded that the roads on this end of town have some steep stretches both up and back down into the town centre. I was glad of a sit down when I got to the station.

There were yet more corvids, greylags, buzzards and woodpigeons as the stopping train to Shrewsbury made its way across Anglesey. Mute swans cruised on the Cefni at Malltraeth while a kestrel hunted along the bank. The tide had ebbed and beyond Llanfairfechan the gulls on the beach were joined by little egrets and pied wagtails.

Great Orme from the train

I changed at Llandudno Junction where a couple of dozen house sparrows settling to roost in a bush by the pedestrian bridge contrived to sound like a couple of hundred. As the train back to Manchester trundled through the twilight I was the old man with his nose pressed against the window looking for owls.