Shenton's Smew

I have been out and about over the last few days, including an excellent Saturday morning at the Point of Ayr.

If the seawatch at this site on Friday was a little sketchy, it redeemed itself the following day with some excellent birds.

Contrition was not the order of the day early on though; although the area was thronged with birds there was little variety on the wader and wildfowl front and more gulls then you could shake a stick at.

In fairness, the immature Spoonbill put on a show, but it was a good hour and a half before the first raptor appeared on the radar – a fem/imm Merlin that buzzed the roost a couple of times before docking on a mound in the middle of the marsh.

Eagle-eyed Mark Murphy then caught a glimpse of a possible Jack Snipe disturbed by the incoming tide, but the bird was not playing ball and promptly buried itself in a clump of Sea Purslane.

A Ron Atkinson spotter’s badge was then duly earned after he picked out a female Goosander that had stealthily drifted in.

For afters it was over to Warren Fields and after setting up scopes near the railway bridge I located a group of five grey geese. My thoughts were initially White-fronts, but with my only experience of these birds a fleeting glimpse of a pair of juveniles about two miles out into Banks’ marsh near Southport, I was a little unsure.

Thankfully there was one adult replete with diagnostic great whacking white band around the base of its bill – the other four being juveniles.

A Barnacle Goose was also found with a group of Canada Geese, but the most intriguing bird was what appeared to be a drake Smew roosting on the bank of one of the pools.

Sadly, the opportunity of a life bird for Mark was taken away when it revealed itself to be a Muscovy Duck, or to give it its new name – Shenton’s Smew.

Until later.

Parsimonious Poseidon

With strong westerly winds blowing for the majority of the week, I decided to take a punt on a seawatch down at the Point of Ayr this morning.

With most of the Skuas, Petrels and Shearwaters now safely kicking it in warmer climes, a December session is never going to set the pulse racing fully, but nonetheless this time of year can still be productive.

Things started in a promising fashion with a handful of Kittiwakes and a small party of Red-breasted Mergansers moving out of the estuary before most teachers were calling their register.

It was good to see a few juvenile Kittiwakes too; through no fault of their own the Scottish breeders have been about as productive as a Greek roadie in the last few years – perhaps they have enjoyed more success this year?

A 1st winter Little Gull was next on the scene, battling valiantly against the strong gusts. Superficially similar to a young Kittiwake in plumage, there really is no mistaking these little critters if you take a few minutes to observe their flight and behaviour. It was a plucky little bugger too, spending plenty of time feeding from deep within the troughs.

And then things gradually petered out. Great Crested Grebes, Red-throated Divers, Guillemots and a few Common Scoters passed through, but nothing too interesting.

The winds began to abate too and then I noticed the Cormorants started to get busy commuting around in all directions – always a sign that normal business is resuming. Time to call it a day.

It was now my time to do battle with the wind as I headed to Prestatyn to pick up a bus home. Hundreds of gulls were roosting on the beach and although conditions were not exactly conducive to careful study I did managed to pick out an adult Yellow-legged.

Until later.

Inclement

I’ve been out on a couple of birding expeditions this week – a walk from home at Lloc to Prestatyn and a hobble around Greenfield Valley and Dock.

Let’s start at the beginning.

On Tuesday I set off in warm sunshine and a steady breeze and so it was until I neared the Point of Ayr when the skies darkened somewhat, blackened and then moved into a new level of lightless murk hitherto unknown to Man.

Cue monsoon and gale force winds. Fortunately – or so I thought – there was a Hawthorn tree thicker than your average Wag, so I hunkered down leeward side and waited for the deluge to pass – except it didn’t.

Forty-five minutes later I was sodden and with the prospect of three more hours of walking to go I was not a happy camper.

It was a pity really, because things had started well: a Marsh Tit in Garth Wood and a quintet of Brent Geese near Mostyn were unexpected.

When I squelched up at the Point of Ayr there was pandemonium as the waders and wildfowl had been caught with their pants down so to speak.

The combination of the lashing wind and low pressure had caused the tide to cover the marsh in a spectacle reminiscent of a good ten metre effort.

With my bins not in the best of shape and myself not entirely won over to the idea of catching hyperthermia I was in no mood to enjoy the commotion, but there were excellent numbers of birds – particularly Pintail.

Leaving the marsh I headed for the shoreline to undertake a Snow Bunting/Shore Lark hunt, but was surprised to see the waves hammering into the dunes. Not being particularly partial to drowning, I walked along the tops of the dunes until the tide had ebbed.

Alas, not much to report. I’ve not seen any Snow Buntings at Talacre this year and indeed I only had one passage individual last winter. I’m not sure why this is, but I have noticed a distinct lack of a strandline along most of beach…lack of food?

After a day’s convalescence, I was still in the painful throws of severe chafing, but nonetheless decided a trip to Greenfield was in order.

Hobbling long like John Wayne did have its advantages – I was able to pay a little more attention to any arboreal action as I shuffled along.

Plenty of mixed flogs of foraging passerines around, although ‘mixed’ is pushing it a little – the three major groups I located were dominated with Blue and Great Tits with the odd Goldcrest, Nuthatch or Coal Tit thrown in.

I had hoped for a Yellow-browed Warbler, Firecrest or Lesser Spot – fat chance.

Still, a Dipper was a good find as was a Grey Wagtail, both earning a crust on the stream at the bottom of the Valley. This made up a little for the distinct lack of birds on any of the pools, that quite frankly were pony.

Until later.