Spring has arrived...

Spring has arrived! The days are longer and warmer, and the light is (usually) better. Slowly we're getting used to the change in the seasons - it's not just how we feel about Spring; it's the gradual disappearance of the winter wildfowl, and the excitement of the reappearance of old friends.

Here we have Black-tailed Godwits in their breeding plumage, showing off their red heads and breasts. In the middle of a long row of council houses is a gate leading to the allotments - and to a large scrape where these Blackwits roost over high-tide, sometimes almost a thousand of these large waders. Alongside the scrape is a local nature reserve, with pond, a wooded area, and (that rarest of things) a scrub area, with gorse, brambles, and small trees; just what is needed for warblers.

 

Happily posing for us near Leasowe is this common warbler - a chiffchaff. These can be present all year round, but really make their present felt when they begin singing their distinctive song. Really they should be called chiff-chiff-chiff-chaff-chiff-chaff-chaff-chiff's, but that's a bit of a mouthful.

And shortly after the chiffchaff begin to sing, the wheatears start to pass through. They stop off in the horse paddocks as they rest during their journey northwards.

 

Ranging a little further afield ourselves, we headed off to the Great Orme, a delightful place to see sea birds, and then on the plateau there all sorts of migrating birds passing through, as well as a wide selection of  scavengers.

Here we have a Jackdaw, checking out the area around the cafe. These intelligent birds are highly social, and are usually found in groups. Great Orme also hosts the Chough, another member of the corvid family, with a thin red beak that is used to probe the soil; when I get a decent picture, it'll appear here, I promise!

During the spring migration, the plateau is often full of resting migrants, here a male Stonechat. I don't think I've seen so many stonechats in one place before, often seen perching on a higher twig above the scrub to watch what is happening around. Meadow pipits are another common visitor at this time of year.

Listen carefully near the cliffs, and you may hear a low 'gronk' noise; not the chatter of the Jackdaws, not the angry 'craw' of the crow. This is the sound of a much beefier bird, the raven, largest of the corvid family. Usually seen soaring in the sky, I managed to find this one perched on top of a cliff overlooking the road.

 

Returning closer to home, in the last ten days or so, we have the joy of seeing a pair of Gagraney arrive at our local RSPB reserve. Usually they are only present for a say or two as they pass through, but this pair seems quite settled - perhaps they will stay, and breed here. Only time will tell. The male especially is highly distinctive with the grey side panel and bright white curved eye stripe. Head on the effect is quite dramatic, and the bird really stands out.

Meanwhile, overhead soar a pair of buzzards, softly 'mewing' as they go by. While they will take smaller birds, buzzards generally look for something to scavenge, the same kind of diet as the corvids, which does mean they are in competition, and can lead to corvids mobbing buzzards and other birds of prey, trying to force them from the area. In this case all was calm, and we could enjoy the view of this pair lazily scanning for supper.

 

Another spring returnee is the blackcap. Very distinctive once seen, the male has a black top, while the female has a brown top. They make a call somewhat like two stones being tapped together.

When we go Martinmere, the local WWT centrw, we usually keep to the 'wild' side of the reserves. Recently, though, we went there with some friends, a perfect excuse to spend some time looking through the 'captive' side of the centre.

Here we found some Baikal Teal, a brightly marked bird from the far east. Over winter one was seen on the Southport marshes, resulting in a lot of interest. The jury is still out as to whether it was a genuine wild bird, or an escapee from a private collection.

Equally well decorated is this male Mandarin duck. These dapper ducks are not native to this country, but sufficient have escaped and bred that there is a small but established population, and can be found locally.

The delight of the trip was this African gry-crowned crane - his fuzzy head gear looked most impressive, and gave him an expression of curiousity that matched how we felt looking at him!

A Holiday Trip

As an early wedding anniversary treat for ourselves, we booked a long weekend in a a wildlife-orientated hotel, the Grant Arms in Grantown on Spey. If you fancy a treat, give this place a try; the location is breath-taking, the welcome warm, and the food excellent.This was the view from our bedroom window.

On the way up (beware, it IS a long way!) we stopped at Leighton Moss, scene of this years Springwatch programme. The only regret was that we could only stop a couple of hours; you really need a full day to explore here. We missed out on the Bearded Tits, but instead we came across this Marsh Tit trying out a new home for size. These little birds, along with the visually very similar Willow Tits, are under threat as their habitat is being destroyed, so always pleasing to see.

As we were in the area, it seemed rude not to go and visit Loch Flemington, and see the American Coot that has taken up residence there. This is a rare visitor to this country, and yet this individual seems right at home, having been here for several months now.

Having featured a cute Grey Squirrel in a previous blog, it's time to show the even cuter native Red Squirrel. This little chap howed great interest in the food that had been put out to attract the birds at Loch Garten.

The real attractions at Loch Garten were the Crested Tits. These elegant birds are pine tree specialists. so limited in this country to the Highlands, and were the number one reason for the trip. Worth it? Oh, Yes!!

We spent a number of hours at Lochindob, a small loch on a quiet road. The moorland around was so peaceful, yet so full of life. No drone of traffic; instead the accelerating call of Meadow Pipits as they first soared, and then glided in their characteristic display flight, the cheerful burble of Red Grouse, and the 'gronk' of Ravens overhead.

Here is one of the comical Red Grouse. When alarmed they would explode into flight, but to land it seemed they had forgotten how, and would just fold their wings and almost tumble into the heather, and then stick their heads up as if to say, 'I meant to do that'!

Lochindob was also home to this recently returned Black-throated Diver, smart in it's breeding plummage, and hungry for a fish supper.

This view is along the Findhorn valley. While we only saw distant views of the birds of prey that this valley is famous for, the setting more than made up for lack of raptors. The valley was full of curlew, oystercatchers and lapwing, alond with the usual meadow pipits, and a dipper working energetically along the river.

We would loved to have stayed longer, and it was far too soon that we found ourselves travelling back along the A9, heading sadly south.

Having arrived home, we had one more day before returning to work, so what better way use it than to head into the North Wales hills before dawn, windows open so that we could listen for the odd bubbling sound that marked a Lek site, and then to park up and wait for first light to reveal the sight of male Black Grouse displaying in a series of twirls and rushes at one another. The purpose of this strange 'dance' is to establish the relative rankings, like teenage lads at the dance floor showing off for the girls. 



Spring is almost here

It's always worth a trip to New Brighton in winter. On the highest tides, the pontoon in the marine lake becomes a refuge for local waders. There will dozens of redshank with a good smattering of dunlin. Often there will be a local speciality, the Purple Sandpiper, but on this occasion the highlight of the day was tucked in with the redshank, this Greenshank showing a nice contrast in leg "shank" colour. 

Another local treat was this Kingfisher, not a mile from home. The poor light robs the colours from the picture, but a real delight to see. We've seen reports of a bird at this site for some time, but this was the first time we'd actually seen him. It seems such an insignificant bit of water, with all sorts of junk dumped both on the banks and in the water itself, yet there must be enough life to support this fisher, and hopefully we'll see many more times.

We managed a return trip to Pennington Flash, near Wigan. The hides there provide great views, such as these of a Reed Bunting and a Bullfinch. The only downside with a popular place is that it can get crowded, and sometimes you meet a 'character'; we found one photographer with a lens the size of a rocket launcher running up and down in the hide, pushing the lens right out of the window in an attempt to get a 'better' shot.  Needless to say the end result was the sight of lots of bird's bottoms disappearing rapidly into the trees. Sigh - time to move to a different hide...

Not quite as far away is Woolston Eyes; this is a much quieter place, not least because you need a key to get in! Woolston has been the scene of some amazing Starling murmerations this year, with some estimates as high as 500,00. The Starlings have been starting to arrive just before dusk, groups of birds flying in from all directions to merge with the growing mass. Sometimes a large group of maybe a 1,000 birds, other times just dozen birds at a time, indeed, even single starlings, each flying up to the main stream, and disappearing into the mass. Every now and again a sparrowhawk flew into the mass, and each time clear air formed around the hawk, like an invisible forcefield was around it. The mass of birds stratched from as far left as we could see to as far right; the sky was full of swirling wings. And then a group would peel off and dive into the reeds with a sounds like that of heavy rain, and then another group, and another, and another, until there was one final group. They too would dive into the reeds, and the sky was empty. Fascinating, and well worth the rushed trip from work, and the dark trip home.

 

Not far from Woolston is Moore Nature Reserve, no key needed, yet still much quieter than Pennington. From wigeon and teal whistling in the ponds, to the raptors soaring over, the wary goldcrests flitting around the trees, to the raucous great spotted woodpeckers pushing all out of the way at the feeders, there is much varied birdlife around. Even waders dropped in, these curlew feeding in fields by the road in.

Wherever you find woodland you are likely to find a great spotted woodpecker. These large birds, about the size of a starling, are easily identified, black and white with a bright red spot on their underparts, like this one.

As well as the great spotted, Moore has a small number of Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers, it's star resident. The Lessers are a smaller bird, not much larger than a sparrow. They lack the red under-spot, and have more white on their backs, in almost a polka-dot pattern. 

Alas, they are not just lesser because they are smaller, they are also lesser seen - this is an increasingly uncommon bird. The most likely threat to them is from loss of habitat; they need an established wood with a good canopy. It's very important for the survival of this delightful birds, and many like them, that we protect established woodlands. The government is keen for economic growth - with good reason. However, they have indicated that they are willing to allow developers to destroy established woodlands, to replace them with newly-planted woodlands elsewhere. This policy makes no sense from a wildlife point of view - it could take a hundred years or more for a new woodland to mature sufficiently to again support Lesser Spotter Woodpeckers. So, please, support your local woodlands, and help to protect them.

 

And to finish, a 'cutey' shot, again at Moore, of a Grey Squirrel nonchantly munching on his lunch, seemingly oblivious to our presence.

 

Is it really almost March ?!?

Yet again I have failed miserably to keep this blog up to date. My only excuse, if you can call it that, is that we have been out every weekend that we've been free - both housekeeping and blog-writing have taken 2nd place. So, having filled the bins, I'm now putting a few notes together, but only for January mind; February comes later.

The year started with some cold days stood at Parkgate, watching the tide rolling up to the wall. The saltmarsh was alive with activity as it's usual occupants found themselves washed out, and trying to get to the safety of dry land. Meanwhile others were trying to make the most of an easy lunch, Short-eared Owls, Harriers, and Kestrels patrolled above, dropping to pick up a snack. Even Herons and Gulls made the most of the feast.

Through the tide swam this Water Rail; usually very well hidden in the reeds, now exposed to the predators, making a dash for a floating raft.

By the wall this little chap was spotted; I'm afraid I'm not up on my mammals, so not shure if a vole, shrew, or mouse. Whichever, he was riding on the top of the floating reeds, struggling to keep out of the water.

I wish I could produce some photos of the owls and harriers. Beautiful birds deserving a fine portrait. However, I have none yet. The best I can manage is this buzzard over Marbury Country Park, near Northwich. While the picture is poor, it is many times better than my other attempts. Practice, practice, practice...

 

When we've had enough of being freeze-dried by the wind, we've headed into the woods for some shelter. As we've become more attuned to the movements and sounds in the woods, we've taken delight in finding Treecreepers. These fascinating birds scurry up trees, searching for food, before then flyinh to the base of another tree and starting again. It's really easy to overlook them, so well camouflaged are these bird-mice. Yet keep still, and suddenly you'll notice a faint movement in the corner of your eye, and you'll realise you've found one of these delightful birds. Watch enthralled as they cling to the trunk, balancing themselves against their tails as they pry out an insect.

 

Talking of things in trees, I keep finding myself asking a question... What is it that drivers some people to collect up their dog's poo, and then hang it from a tree ? We keep coming across this, and I cannot understand it at all... Do these people think that someone follows them round collecting the bags from the trees? Surely it would be better to leave it unbagged, and knocked to the side of the path with a stick, than wrapped up in plastic and tossed up into the branches? This was from Stanney Woods, but sadly we've seen it in my places. Please - if you have a dog, this is NOT acceptable. Please, bag it AND BIN IT !!!

 

On a happier note, we've been back to Martin Mere, and managed to catch up with the single Bewick's Swan that's visited this year. This swan is slightly smaller than a Whopper, and has much more black on it's beak. Obviously it's a hard life being a swan at Martin Mere, as this one rests up waiting the next offering of food from the staff at this reserve.

 

Still at Martin Mere, we were walking along the path when we heard a loud outpouring of song. We looked but couldn't see the culprit.... until we looked down, and almost at our feet was this handsome chappie, singing out for all his worth.  As you walk around, take care not to overlook the common robin, for a real delight they can be, a bringer of smiles.

 

And to finish off, on one of the gates in the reserve, we saw this pair of love-birds. These wood-pigeons clearly thought Spring was just around the corner...  You know the tune, all together now...  "Love is in the air, every where I look around"....

 



What a busy end of the year - and some other highlights through the year...

We've been out as often as we can in the latter part of the year. With the very mild weather through end of October to end of December, there have been all sorts of sightings/ Perhaps the strangest looking was this hoopoe near Rhyl. There's something about it's eyes that make it look like a stuffed toy, but I assue you it was moving around ! I've seen a similar effect in other people's photoes too, so it's not just my camera, though as usual I had to push the zoom right out to get this shot.

Distance wasn't the problem with this Tawny Owl at WWT Martin Mere; just seeing it was hard enough. As we walked around one Saturday we came across around a dozen people staring up in a tree. Obviously something was there, but it took a minute or so to get the eyes focussed in...  There, in broad day light, straight above one of the main paths, this owl was quietly sitting. I wonder how many people had already walked straight past, as I'm sure we would have as well, had not one sharp-eyed birder picked out the shape in the leaves.

Another hard set of pictures, were of this Willow Tit at Woolston Eyes. Not distance, nor camouflage this time, but sheer restlessness/ We had gone here in the hope of seeing this increasingly uncommon bird, but it caught us quite by surprise. My first reaction was to scribble down Coal Tit, 'cause it hasn't got the white mark on the back of the neck...  WAIT A MINUTE, it's the Coal Tits that have the white mark !!!  Quick, grab another loook, but too late, it had gone....   Twenty minutes later, amid all the Blue Tits, Great Tits, Greenfinches and Reed Buntings feeding, there's a flicker of a smaller greyer bird - and just time to snatch a couple of shots before it again flitted away... Still, a great feeling to have seen it, and it underlines the importance of places like Woolston, where wildlife can take precedence... Without being too political, this current Government is utterly failing in it's claim to be 'green'. While I'd support the concept of HS2, it needs far more careful routing, and as for the idea that it's ok to destroy established woodland if you plant some saplings somewhere else, it's sheer madness. It's not the number of trees, it's the TIME it takes to grow them into mature woodland, hundreds of years. It's no use planting something that will be great in a hundred years time, if major numbers of species die out before then. And birds like the Willow Tit are right in the firing line...

Off the soap-box, and back to Martin Mere, which brought these favourites. Oh just common sparrows, you may cry...  But I have a great deal of time for even for the trusty House Sparrow - it was childhood memories of these in my old garden, and then hearing about their population crash that has encouraged me to take more notice of them, and put feeders out for them. We now have a small flock of a dozen or so that visit our bird table each morning. However, this is no House Sparrow; look at that chestnut brown head, no hint of a slate top. This is a Tree Sparrow, and much under threat they are. Martin Mere is one of the few places that we have seen these cheeky chaps. (Tip given to me to help me remember - Houses have slate roofs, and so do House Sparrows).

As we've gone into later November and early December, we've seen increasing numbers of thrushes. We visited one graveyard full of ancient yew trees (remember, 100's of years, maybe even thousand's for this slow-growing tree), and the branches were alive with Redwings and Mistle Thrushes. We've only ever seen one Mistle Thrush at a time before, but here the graveyard was vibrating with the fottball rattle-like calls. This chap posed obligingly on the top of a gravestone, before heading back to the top of a tree.

Nearer to home, this Redwing and Fieldfare were many that were feeding near Burton, providing a little respite from the frutiless searching through the Meadow Pipits in the tidal wrack for the elusive Buff-bellied Pipit (BBP) - the BBP has provided many with obliging views, but not for us yet. So having the chance to see these beauties feeding was a piece of welcome compensation.

Noteworthy, though, is the absence so far of Waxwings; it seems that the mild winter so far has provided lots of food for those Scandanavian birds, so they haven't needed to come across the North Sea in quite the numbers that they did last year.

Another unexpected sight while searching for the BBP was this Robin, who landed virtually at my feet, hence this rather strange camera-angle - that shadow behind the tail is my elbow! These bold birds are a real delight, no matter how common they may be.

As the year drew closer to it's end, we've been treated to plenty of views of the wildfowl that winter locally.  Here are a pair of male Teal; when the sun catches them right, the green markings on their heads look spectacular. Their quiet whistle is ever-present around our marshes and lakes at this time of year, and along with evocative whistle of the wigeon, which also has a distinctive head marking, a bright yellow sploge on the forehead.

Slightly less common, but still present in large numbers are Pintails. That white stripe up the neck and head is really striking, and their plummage looks so crisp. These really are the snazzy dressers at this time of year!

Just to round the year off, here are some photo's that have been taken through the Summer, but for one reason or another didn't make it onto the blog before. This first is a Reed Warbler, seen at Burton Mere Wetland. Getting the camera to focus on the bird rather than foreground reeeds was quite a challenge.

This Kestrel was seen hovering over the fields behind Gilroy Park, West Kirby. Their hovering posture in unmistakeable.

This Grey Wagtail brightened up a wet walk near Lake Vrynwy, a flash of colour in a wet day.

I couldn't resist this Wren; it was scolding a passing cat for all it was worth; I think the cat left because it was getting a headache!

Both Martin Mere and Burton have provided many views of Buzzards; this one posed conveniently at Burton.

 And from the large to the small - all through the year we saw Long-tailed Tits; this one at Leasowe was part of a small flock moving through the bushes.

 I couldn't resist - a Puffin, from the Farne Islands.

And having just worked through a load of Summer birds, I finish with one taken on almost the last day of the year, a Redshank, legs glowing in the morning sun off Red Rocks.

What a way to finish the year, back with the waders for which the area is known. So if you find yourself waking up early one Sunday morning, why not pop down to the beach before you go to Church; it'll put a smile on your face as you greet those sleepy-heads who have had a lie in, and are now wondering why you're wearing boots!