After the storm

Very poor weather has dominated this week. Today was forecast to be fair, and I toyed with going up to see the pomarine skua at the north end of the area, but I had to perform emergency house repairs after storm damage. Still, I had half a sunny afternoon left, so I went through the park back to the mere, on the offchance the firecrest was still there.

 Above: you know the birds are tame when you can photograph them at 35mm! Below: a casualty of the storm.

A few big clouds drifted over - the sky was very pretty. The wind had died down almost completely, and there was little evidence of the recent violence. Just one fallen tree - already dead - blocked a path on one of the small islands in the park lake. Coots, pigeons, mallards, and geese were eager for food, but I had none. An elderly gentleman gave them some, and was surrounded by a scrum of dozens of birds. Further out, black-headed gulls, shovelers, cormorants, great crested grebes, and at least one pochard comprised the usual suspects.

I looped round the woods to the northwest of the lake, on the offchance a jay or nuthatch was lurking there, but it was just squirrels and tits - but my first coal tit of the year, so I was happy enough. A few daffodils were already opening, too. Out towards the reserve, the sun came back out, and it felt genuinely mild - spring is definitely awakening.

Above: a stand of alders in the sunshine. Below: furry willow buds beginning to break.

Down to the lakside platform, and I had a quick scan of the waters, but I don't know an Iceland gull by sight, so even if our local one was there (and it does visit regularly at this time of year), I couldn't have known. But a pair of birdwatchers arrived, and looked with more care. I stood around hoping for the firecrest, but aside from a large flock of long-tailed tits, and a huge number of pink-footed geese (hundreds upon hundreds, flying south in numerous skeins), there wasn't much to see. David M and a few other local bird folk arrived, but the only bird life was a showy robin and loud cetti's warblers in the reeds nearby.

A pleasant trip out, though. Sometimes just being there is enough.

Year ticks

Note: the conditions on Sunday were terrible, so all these photos are of relatively poor quality, and for illustrative purposes only.

The day after I saw David M, he texted me to invite me along on another local bird search. This year I'm keeping a list of all the species I see, alongside searching for new ones, so going up to Fleetwood to revisit the shorelark and others was something I had planned anyway. The weather was terrible - gales, overcast, and occasional showers - but a free lift is a free lift.

Above: the shorelark. Below: a meadow pipit got in on the action.

We went straight to the picnic ground near the marine lakes, and as expected, the shorelark was foraging on the grass (along with a flock of turnstones, one of which is in the background, above). Some other birders were watching it, but dog walkers and other passers by spooked the waders, and the more tame shorelark flew off fairly soon. Not to worry, we went round to the beach, seeking a little shelter behind the dunes. I spotted sanderlings among the turnstones feeding on the shoreline (the tide was in), and then saw a flock of ringed plovers huddled behind the stones, just their faces peeking out (below). When I came to process my shots of this, I realised there were a couple of purple sandpipers among them - if only we'd known!

I found the shorelark itself behind a large rock, before it moved away and eventually flew back to the grassy area. We watched it for a few minutes, before leaving it to another photographer who attempted to creep as close as possible (the bird itself is rather tame, but the turnstones are not). We nipped round the corner to the eastern marine lake, which is mostly drained at present for some sort of maintenance work. This has attracted more gulls and waders than usual, and purple sandpipers have been seen roosting there for a while. After a long time hiding from the wind behind a small building, David made a break for it and found one of these small grey waders in the middle of a large flock of redshanks and turnstones (see if you can spot it, above). Otherwise there were some nice gulls, including great black backed and a handsome common gull.

Above: herring gulls around a GBB - the largest gull species. Below: a common and black headed gull together.

We checked out Fleetwood Marsh nature reserve, which is windswept at the best of times, but the glaucous gull that has been hanging out on a nearby roof was absent, so we finally nipped back to Marton Mere, and sat in the main hide for a while. It was bitterly cold, and the light was fading. Still, it was fun to watch teal displaying - they do a rather funny dance with their heads and tails. Hard to capture in a still image though.

A return to normality

Returning home I had the tantalising prospect of another very special passerine in the local area - a firecrest blew into the local nature reserve a few days ago. The weather has been rotten though, with gales and rain. Today I made it out despite the continuing wind, as at least it was mostly sunny. I held little hope of finding Britain's equal smallest bird in these conditions, but David M said he was going, and he spots a lot of things I miss (his take on the day is here).

Passing through the park, I saw hundreds of gulls, but didn't have time to sift through them for anything unusual.

We stood around in a sheltered, wooded spot overlooking the lake, where the bird had been seen - but not for a couple of days. No luck, though a goldcrest picked through the shrubs and brambles nearby.

Out on the water, a large group of Canada geese had gathered in the sheltered southeast end, and amongst them there was a barnacle goose - my first new species ("lifer") of the year. While David is sceptical it's a wild bird, I was happy nonetheless, and got adequate shots despite the couple of hundred metres separating us. It was a lot smaller than I expected (see below).

We also checked on the owls. Long-eared owls roost in the scrub by the lake every winter, although last autumn they were scared off by naughty apple pickers. My guide knew where to look though, as one or more have returned. Once I knew where to stand, I found the bird straight away, which was pleasing, although it was still very well camouflaged, and mostly turned away from us. I'll return - I simply must try getting a shot of its eyes open (best of today's photos of it below).

We went round the other side of the scrub to look for the firecrest again, but unsuccessfully. A pair of woodcock flushed though - which is my second new species of the year, though they were gone before I got any photographs. Once again, I will try and return for them before they clear off in spring.

A quiet but surprisingly successful first trip out of the year, then. I didn't mind not seeing the firecrest in the end, though if it's sighted again, I'll go looking for it.

These aren't the ducks I'm looking for

Apologies for absence. Last year was rather tumultuous, although there were many birds, and I'll do a summary at some point soon. To get myself back into the habit though, I'll do a quick roundup of yesterday's excursion.

I've been up in central Scotland for the festive period, as usual, and kept an eye on the local bird sightings for what was interesting and accessible. I hate to sound such a critical note, but I am deeply unimpressed with the Lothian Bird Club sightings website. I'm spoiled down at home, where an open access system allows anyone to add sightings, and people put on everything they see - no matter how common - which gives a great picture of what can be seen, and where. It's also real time, so checking back every few hours is beneficial. Up here, they only post rare or unusual stuff, and it's all done in summary the following day. This is frustrating for those of us who don't know where to go for otherwise common species that we haven't seen before (say, bramblings), or if we want to know if a notable bird seen yesterday is still there today. Also, it's very much an East Lothian-based operation, and West Lothian rarely gets a mention.

Nonetheless, it's better than nothing, and their photo pages can give a broader picture of what's about, and how easy it is to see the species they've mentioned. I had planned on Saturday to do a trip for three new species - a lesser yellowlegs that was showing very well at North Berwick (somewhere I've meant to visit for ages, as there's a seabird centre there, and boat trips around Bass Rock, known for its gannet colony, in the summer). At Musselburgh, a surf scoter has been hanging around for months. And just east of Leith, a black redstart was seen on the beach for several days. I could do all three in one jaunt, but it was not to be. I didn't make it out until yesterday (Tuesday), by which time the yellowlegs and redstart had vanished (the latter may have moved east, but I didn't know that at the time).

Still, a surf scoter is not to be sniffed at, so I went down to Musselburgh anyway. Not to the well-known wader scrapes and lagoons - just a quick walk down the River Esk to its mouth at the Firth of Forth. The weather was perfect - mild sunshine, light wind. And as it turned out, there were lots of birds, and they were unusually tame.

First to catch my eye were goosanders (Mergus merganser). I've seen them a few times, always in Scotland, on rivers, canals, and in flight. But the males have never allowed close approach, and indeed all birds I've encountered were wary. Not so these. It was to be a recurring theme of my visit that all the birds on the river were habituated to humans. The Esk at this point runs through the town centre, and a strip of parkland is found either side, right up to the water. Both females (picture at top) and males (second photo) were abundant - I counted one group of seven. One female was preening on a mostly-submerged rock, and occasionally posing coquettishly (third picture above).

Then it was goldeneyes (Bucephala clangula), another duck I've seen a few times, but always from a great distance. They were a little skittish, but generally mingled with the other waterbirds and came as close as I could have wanted. At least 20 were scattered in small groups along the river (photos below - females with brown heads, male with green, just like the goosanders).

Finally, at the river mouth I stood and scanned the Firth of Forth patiently, looking for that black seaduck. But it was not there - perhaps it was just round the coast to the east, or too far out to see. The waves were choppy in a chilly breeze, but the low-slung sun lit up another lovely marine species, eiders. We get these at home all the time, but usually so distantly (hundreds of metres offshore) that photos are scarcely worth bothering with (see an earlier entry on this blog). This time there were closer, and I got my best shots yet - though they were still small in the frame, and kept disappearing as they bobbed up and down, so it required some patience. Pictures below.

Overall, it was a lovely couple of hours, and I will definitely go again in the spring. Below is the view acros to the island of Inchcolm, which is a breeding site for fulmars.

Persistence partially pays off

My target the week before last was breeding male wheatears. They have started filtering through the Fylde coast as they return to breed in the UK, and lots have stuck around at certain points. Rossall Point, a perennially good location for all sorts of land- and sea-based birds seemed the best bet - at least one male had been seen there consistently for some days.

Well, knowing a bird is at a location and finding it are two very different things. Especially as the bird reports are vague - "Fleetwood golf course" (which occupies the landward side of the headland) is a big place, and a bird not much larger than a robin can quite easily disappear into the scrub, dunes, long grass, or just be too far away to get noticed - even one as striking-looking as a breeding-plumage wheatear.

Stonechats have the useful habit of perching in the open, making them relatively easy to photograph.

 A linnet doing the splits.

A pity this bird was so mangled, or I could have taken some close up shots. I wonder if it died before or after being deposited on the golf course?

My first visit was a dud. No sign of wheatears anywhere. There was a stonechat, linnets, and I got close to the resident female red-breasted merganser on the Marine Lakes. But the most exciting bird was a deceased razorbill on the golf course. I have been trialling my new binoculars recently and they have been a big help in covering the ground, but they were no use in this case. Two days later I returned. I searched more diligently, and walked most of the perimeter of the golf course (unlike some dog walkers, I'm still reluctant to trespass), but nothing. Well, not nothing - lots of skylarks, a few oystercatchers, linnet, and a stonechat again, as well as a goldfinch huddling on the leeward side of the sea wall and a bird that turned out to be a meadow pipit (they often get grounded there on migration). Right at the end of my visit, I saw a couple of pale birds, very distant, feeding in the centre of the course. I fired off a couple of shots, but could only tell when I got home that I had in fact been successful - technically. The bird was so distant it was only just possible to tell - thankfully male wheatears are very distinctive in breeding plumage.

A female linnet huddling on the leeward side of the sea wall.

 Recent snowfall meant the Cumbrian mountains shone in the distance.

Each time I see them, I get closer to the stonechats.

A meadow pipit. Hundreds of these are sometimes grounded by bad weather when migrating, but this one was alone (although interacting with the stonechat).

The closest I got to a wheatear - a full-size crop at 1000mm, about as far away as it could have been.

Third time lucky? I went back - happy that I knew at least the birds were there, and at least part of their behaviour. But other things were moving through the area, so I started my day at Fleetwood Ferry (the end of the tram line, at the mouth of the River Wyre), because a stork was flying north and had been sighted nearby. Later an osprey made the same journey - but I saw neither, despite very careful observation of the skies, seas, and mud flats. But way out in the river channel (the tide was low) was a species I've never yet seen, nor photographed - despite being resident round these shores most of the time. I was shooting handheld, manual focus, at 1400-2800mm, but they are unmistakeable - eider. Two males and two females.

The top two shots were taken at 2800mm, the lower two at 1400mm. There's little extra detail gained by adding a third teleconverter, but it can make getting accurate focus easier, as the birds are bigger in the viewfinder.

The view towards Barrow.

Once again I scoured the perimeter of the golf course (moving clockwise from the north this time). I had nearly given up, but at last on the western side, I saw a female wheatear - after I'd photographed a pair of skylarks feeding together on the grass. Then two more wheatears came into view - including the male I wanted - but just then, a local bird watcher pointed out dog walkers coming up behind. I got a few shots, but this perennial bane of my photography scared them off, and I never got close to them again. Still, I was pleased to have found them.

A skylark.

Above: females; below: the fine male.

Below: more shots of a female, which sat on the sea wall briefly, the closest I got. She then moved back onto the golf course, before flying out of sight.

Most of the snow had already melted, but even better visibility allowed fine detail to be discerned on the peaks. Below, the Isle of Man was clear in the west, over 60 miles away.

The female stonechat (I assume the same individual I've seen before here) seemed to be gathering nest material - I hope they breed here.

No fireworks this sunset - just a band of rich peach in the west.