Tag Archives: rhos-on-sea

Clifftop to seashore

I will be following the migrating birds soon, leaving the cooling shores of North Wales for the warmer ones of southern Spain, but I have a few things left that I want to include in the blog before I leave, including this last walk up to the Little Orme and back along the seashore to Rhos-on-Sea.

This was a very sunny day following a week or so of cooler rainy days. Arriving at the headland there was a strong breeze blowing in from the sea, so although it felt very warm in sheltered spots,it was considerably cooler out in the open.

Kestrel hovering over the cliff slope

As I walked towards the bay I was surprised by the sight of a Kestrel hovering low down over the cliff edge. Views of Kestrels have been scarce during the time I’ve been here, so although the photograph I took is not good I’ve used it as testament to having seen one at all. I love these little raptors and never cease to be amazed at their ability to hang almost motionless in the air for minutes at a time. This one was utilising the wind and air currents and remained suspended in this position for quite some time, perhaps having spotted potential prey, before being disturbed by people walking along the path close by.

There were very few insects about ; this Common Blue butterfly sheltered from the wind down in the long grass

I reached the cliff edge above the bay and sat for a while looking out over the sea. I had half-hoped I might see a seal or two here as they do breed in the locality, but all I saw was a lone Guillemot swimming and diving in the choppy water. The sighting was another first for me here, so I was pleased to see it, if only briefly. By far the commonest and most numerous birds here currently are cormorants, with a great number of them being dotted around the lower slope of the cliff and more flying back and forth. They are such a feature of the area that I think they merit a post of their own, so they will probably be the subject of my next one.

There is a published list of the ‘special’ plants found growing within the Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve on the Little Orme. Many had finished flowering by the time I arrived here in July, but I have discovered a few of them during the course of my walks. I was pleased to add one more today, the Wild Cabbage. It doesn’t sound too glamorous I know, but it is not a common plant, so its continued presence here is quite important.

Brassica oleracea, or wild cabbage, is a species of Brassica that is mainly native to coastal southern and western Europe. Its tolerance of salt and lime and its intolerance of competition from other plants typically restrict its natural occurrence to limestone sea cliffs.

Wild Cabbage-Brassica oleracea

Wild B. oleracea is a tall biennial plant. In the first year of growth the plant forms a stout rosette of large leaves. The leaves are fleshier and thicker than those of other species of Brassica, which are adaptations made by the plant to store water and nutrients in its difficult growing environment. In its second year, the stored nutrients are used to produce a flower spike 1 to 2 metres (3–7 ft) tall bearing numerous yellow flowers.

The dry, spent flower spikes of a wild cabbage plant. I like the effect of the tracery of bone dry silvery stems against the clear blue sky.

These cliffs are the haunt of corvids; I heard the characteristic deep ‘bark’ calls of Ravens and looked up to see a pair circling the rocky peak. There were one or two Carrion Crows about and quite a few Jackdaws foraging around on the ground.

A glossy black Jackdaw, beak agape

There wasn’t a great deal else to see here today that I have not already mentioned in previous posts, which perversely I was quite glad about: I would hate to think I might be leaving having missed something.

I had walked along the promenade and around the residential streets to get here, so I decided to walk back along the seashore as far as I could, accessing the beach via the steps at the end of a walkway between the houses. This far end of the beach of Penrhyn Bay, sheltered by the cliffs of the Little Orme has a different character to the open stretches leading to Rhos-on-Sea. Some vegetation has become established, nothing wildly exciting, but clumps of flowering Sea Mayweed were attracting quite a few insects.

Drone fly on a flower of Sea Mayweed

The seashore of Rhos-on-Sea consists of rocks in various sizes and first impressions may be of a harsh, barren environment predominantly coloured in shades of brown. It is not the traditional people-friendly playground that most holidaymakers seek; even walking across the uneven rocky surface is a feat of endurance requiring concentration and a good sense of balance lest you stumble and twist an ankle or worse. But the rocks form an essential part of the protective barrier between land and sea, dissipating some of the force of wild winter seas and creating a rich and reasonably undisturbed environment for wildlife.

A view to the Little Orme and Penrhyn Bay across the rocky seashore

The view in the opposite directions to Rhos-on-Sea and beyond

Some of the birds I photographed on my walk today:

A Redshank wading on the sea edge

Curlew investigating his reflection in a rockpool

Turnstone

A Herring Gull preparing to take off from a rock

Lift off. The gull has beautiful wings and they need strength too to be able to lift up that bulky body from a standing start. I think this one may have something wrong with its foot.

I spotted some small birds fly over the sea wall and land on the rocks of the breakwater that I imagine defines the boundary between Penrhyn Bay and Rhos-on-Sea. It was a little party of Linnets that were here to feast on the seeds of the wild plants that manage to grow here.

A little flock of Linnets gathered at the base of the sea wall to feed on flower seeds

Linnet-Carduelis cannabina, in winter plumage with a beak full of seeds

The tide was on its way out, leaving behind freshly exposed rocks covered with gleaming seaweed and a myriad of shallow rock pools. This is such an important habitat for wading birds I felt it would be remiss of me not to include a very brief look at some of the predominant features of this part of the seashore.

Bladder Wrack-Fucus vesiculosus

Brown seaweeds are the most common type of seaweed found on rocky beaches. They normally have a method to strongly attach themselves to rock surfaces.The brown colour of the seaweed is due to the brown pigment fucoxanthin overriding the green pigment chlorophyll. Both pigments are used in the photosynthesis of light, fucoxanthin improving the process when the algae is covered by water.

Toothed Wrack-Fucus serratus, underwater

Small dry clumps of seaweed are a common sight blowing around on many beaches. Also in this pool is some bright green Sea Lettuce-Ulva lactulva

The Limpet's conical shape means there is a large surface area in contact with the rockface. This allows for a large foot, providing limpets with a phenomenal grip, to such an extent that they cannot easily be prised off by hand.Limpets have an important affect on their environment, they keep it clear of algae. If you look in rock pools, often the only algae seen growing is on the ungrazed backs of limpets.

Periwinkles abound here, I think they are the edible variety. Brown leathery straps of seaweed are Oarweed-Laminaria digitata.

Of course, being me, once I started paying proper attention I kept noticing more and more, but I have to leave my self more to discover next time I am here, so that’s it from this seashore for now.


Birds and the art of fly catching

As I continued my walk behind the rocky sea-break, it occurred to me that if I was finding it hard going walking against the strong wind,then the small birds I was hoping to see may be finding it even harder and may not be there today. Fortunately I was underestimating the powerful draw that an abundant supply of food is to hungry intelligent and opportunistic birds.The reason the Rock Pipits and the Pied Wagtails, (both species members of the motacillidae family) gather in this small area, more-or-less at the spot where Rhos-on-Sea becomes Penrhyn Bay is not pretty. A sewer outlet, that I was informed serves the village of Mochdre, runs beneath the sea wall and out into the sea here, and for some reason I do not really want to ponder too much, large numbers of flies swarm around the sea wall here. The flies are quite sizeable and it was quite unpleasant walking through the midst of a crowd of them, but the opportunity they presented to watch some beautiful birds in action was well worth a bit discomfort.

Rock Pipit-Anthus petrosus

I sat down close to where the main fly-catching action was taking place hoping the birds would not feel too threatened by the presence of me and my long camera lens. At first both Pipits, of which there were 2,  and the more numerous Wagtails did fly off, but only to a very short distance away and they returned to resume their feasting very quickly, elegantly pursuing their prey along the top of the sea wall then darting across to the rocks and back again. Their speed and acrobatic turns were impressive and highly entertaining, mostly too quick for my manually-focused lens, but wonderful to observe.

Rock pipit – Anthus petrosus

Family: Motacillidae

Scientific name from: Gr.: anthos=a small grassland bird described by Aristotle and Gr.: petros=a rock

Rock Pipit-Anthus petrosus

A coastal bird with a preference for rugged coastlines, Rock Pipits are easy to miss as their inconspicuous plumage shaded in greys, olives and buffs blends readily with the seaweed as they search for food amongst the boulders. It is larger and darker than its close relative, the meadow pipits and has a more heavily-streaked breast and dark olive-brown upper parts. In flight the dark-coloured legs and orange soles of the feet may be seen.

The Rock Pipit can be identified by grey outer tail feathers (white in Meadow Pipit) and by its alarm call - a thin 'phist'

The Rock Pipit is very strongly linked to rocky shores and usually nests in rather inaccessible sites on cliffs and among boulders of sheltered coves and gullies. During the winter months however, it sometimes deserts the high cliffs and may be seen on flat sandy coastlines and inland at sewage farms, floodlands and the borders of reservoirs.

Rock Pipit chasing flies across seaweed covered rocks

Their food includes a large proportion of marine animals, such as sandhoppers, small worms and marine molluscs.

Rock Pipits live partly on insects living in rotting seaweed, such as kelp flies. It also eats seashore plant food. This one was on the beach around Rhos harbour.

 Pied Wagtail – Motacilla alba yarrellii

Scientific name from:  Greek: muttex a bird described by Hesychius and Latin: albus=white

Family: Motacillidae

Once regarded as a species in its own right, the pied wagtail is now regarded by ornithologists as a race of the white wagtail of mainland Europe and Asia. The white wagtail may be seen on migration; it has paler grey upper parts and there is no join between the black cap and bib.

Increased numbers of Pied Wagtails have been a regular sight across the area for some weeks now. Small parties of them, which as they are mixed adults and juveniles could be families, can often be spotted foraging on the seashore amongst the vegetation and dry seaweed.

Pied Wagtail on the beach - black cap and bib merge together

Pied Wagtails really live up to their name, with black upper parts, throat and breast contrasts sharply with a white forehead, face and chest and long black tails that are in constant motion. Females show a lesser degree of contrast and have less black on their heads and a slate-grey back.

Juveniles are brownish-grey above, dusty below, with black crescent-shaped breast-band

Probably a more-developed juvenile, this bird still lacks the black throat of the adult

Overhead the Pied Wagtail’s call is as distinctive as their undulating, looping flight – a few flaps followed by a descending glide that is accompanied constantly by the ‘tschizzuck’ flight call.

In the early evenings I have seen them gathering on the lawns lining the streets that back onto the Little Orme. Pied Wagtails roost communally during the winter, often in great numbers, meeting up in the same place every evening before taking off together to roost for the night. Roosts may be in a reedbed, a copse or even in a built-up area.

Between the rocks and the sea wall

On days when the wind blows in strongly from the north-east, blustering across the Irish Sea and whipping up the waves into foamy ‘sea-horses’, strolling along the promenade can be challenging and I have to admit, not that pleasant. On such a day I was heading towards Penrhyn Bay hoping to catch sight of Rock Pipits and to photograph Pied Wagtails, both of which I had seen recently on and around the sea wall there. The strength of the wind took me by surprise and if I had gone out with the sole purpose of taking an enjoyable walk I may well have reviewed my plans and set off elsewhere, but as I’d never seen Rock Pipits elsewhere, I was keen to see some.

Fortunately there is an alternative walk-way that was created when the original sea wall was constructed: a ledge, about 3′ (1m) wide was created on the wall’s seaward side placed about half-way up its height. In the 1980′s further protection from the wild winter seas was required and the breakwater, consisting of an immense pile of enormous rocks was piled in front of the wall. The rock pile rises higher than the walkway ledge, thus creating a sheltered passageway between the two structures. There is no view from there, the dark seawall encloses one side and the length of the summit of the rock pile the other, so other than for shelter from the wind I would not normally choose to walk this way.

A length of the rock breakwater running from Rhos-on-Sea to Penrhyn Bay in front of the sea wall

The piling of large rocks, also known as riprap, at the base of vertical Edwardian and Victorian sea walls is frequently used as a secondary defence mechanism to prevent them being undermined. Riprap works by absorbing and deflecting the impact of waves before they reach the defended structure. The size and mass of the riprap material absorbs the impact energy of waves, while the gaps between the rocks trap and slow the flow of water, lessening its ability to erode soil or structures on the coast. 

As I walked along, wondering where the vast amount of rock had been taken from, I began to see this confined, shaded and slightly claustrophobic space in a different way. I was drawn to individual rocks that had interesting surface patterns, crystals or layers of other types of rock or minerals and wished I knew what they were. I recognised too that a micro-climate exists here that is helping to create a habitat for an interesting number of plant species from vascular plants to mosses and lichens.

Limestone rock with a tracery of worm-like squiggles and touches of pink colouration. The pink stuff may be a lichen.

The rocks themselves are predominantly locally-occurring limestone and it is humbling to reflect on the fact that eons ago they would have been forming the sea-bed and now carry evidence to ancient life forms.

The beautiful crystals in this picture may be dolomite or perhaps quartz and the purple may be fluorite.

An interesting crystal-like deposit

A ribbon of mineral(s) marks this rock

A macro view of a patch of a Xanthoria sp of algae

A yellow-coloured species of algae

Cushions of moss

Plants have begun to colonise some of the spaces between the rocks and somehow manage to grow at the base of the rocks where they make contact with the sea wall.

A fern squeezing out from between two rocks

Ivy-leaved Toadflax - Cymbalaria muralis

An enlarged view of the delightful little flower and leaves of the Ivy-leaved toadflax

A tiny flower, enlarged, that I think may be English stonecrop-Sedum anglicum. The spiky leaves in the background are of a separate plant, quite possibly Thrift.

Red Valerian is an intrepid and highly successful uninvited coloniser that originates from the Mediterranean region

Red valerian has very pretty flowers that here were attracting several small moth-like insects that I think may have been Owl Midges.

Growing up between the rocks and the sea wall, I have yet to identify this plant

As they frequently do, my walk turned out to be unexpectedly interesting and I did get to see my Rock Pipits, which will be featured in my next post that will be following very shortly.

Bird study – Curlew

An aura of wildness surrounds the curlew perhaps more than any other wading bird. Its onomatopeoic, haunting cries ringing out across the lonely marshes and the tideways it inhabits embody the atmosphere of these often lonely and desolate places.

The curlew is the largest European wading bird, instantly recognisable on winter estuaries or summer moors by its long, downcurved bill, brown upperparts, long legs and evocative call.

Increasing numbers of Curlews have been present on the seashore at Rhos-on-Sea for a few weeks now, but I’ve been waiting to get some reasonable photographs before I wrote about them in more detail. There were several obstacles along the path to obtaining some clear images, not least of which was the fact that they are almost perfectly camouflaged within this rocky landscape, where brown is the predominant colour.

Despite their size, curlews blend perfectly into this landscape

BTO BIRDFACTS:

Curlew Numenius arquata   [Linnaeus, 1758]

Order: Charadriiformes Family: Scolopacidae
 Number in Britain: 105 thousand pairs (Summer)
 Conservation Status:
UK: AMBER
European: 2 Concern, most in Europe; Declining
Global: Near Threatened Details )

Curlews fly fast and low along the sea edge-in flight the white rump is very noticeable

Curlews glide smoothly and quietly through pools of water hunting for small invertebrates

The long curved beak enables the curlew to probe well under rocks

A curlew foraging peacefully alongside an oystercatcher

Breeding

In Great Britain the greatest numbers of breeding curlews are found here in North Wales, but a glance at a field guide will indicate the vast area occupied by the birds. Their range extends from this country east to the Urals and from Scandinavia and Russia in the north. This wide extent of habitats includes upland moors, grassy or boggy open areas in forests and damp grasslands and traditionally managed hayfields particularly in river valleys.

Autumn and winter

Directly after the nesting season the birds shift to marine coastal areas especially favouring mudflats and sands extensively exposed at low tide. Like most waders, at high water curlew form large roosts on either the highest saltings or on fields and marshes behind the sea walls. In some localities the birds move to nocturnal roosting spots at dusk, leaving again at dawn.

The curlew flock numbers several hundred. They roost in this field at the foot of Bryn Euryn, close to houses and a main road. They return at high tide too when they may be seen foraging in the field or standing quietly with their bills tucked under their wings.

When they are not foraging along the seashore here in Rhos-on-Sea the curlew flock surprisingly shares a field with cows, sheep and a couple of horses. Their choice of roost took me by surprise as the field is very close to a busy road, in total contrast to the deserted open spaces they are usually identified with.

When roosting the more dominant curlew tend to occupy the better sheltered areas within the assembly; birds at the front of flocks form closely packed 'walls' in high winds.

Coastal numbers build up from July and reach a peak in January and February. The resident UK population is boosted by incoming migrants to some 99,500–125-000 pairs. 

Curlew from Scotland spend autumn and winter on the British west coast and in Ireland. Populations from Scandinavia, the former Baltic States and north-west Russia head south-westwards towards this country: each of international importance for wintering curlew, the four localities holding largest numbers are Morecombe Bay, the Solway, the Wash and the Dee. Others, remarkably, winter in Iceland and the Faroes. And yet others penetrate to the West African coast. Curlew are capable of migrating at remarkable altitudes, even crossing the Himalayas at a height of 20,000 feet.

Curlews foraging at sea edge

The Curlew in folklore

The curlew features strongly in folklore, often not too favourably.

To hear a curlew call is not good. If you hear it at night, it means that bad luck is coming, but if heard during the day it signifies the arrival of bad weather.

The curlew has always been a bird of bad omen to sailors who have seen them flying overhead and if you hearing their call means that a storm is brewing and its inadvisable to set sail for the open sea.

St Beuno and the Curlew

It is hard to find the nest of the curlew; this story from the folklore of North Wales, attributed to St Beuno offers an explanation for that.

When he lived at Clynnog St Beuno used to go regularly on Sundays to preach at Llanddwyn, off the coast of Anglesey, walking on the sea with the book of sermons, which he used to carry about with him. One Sunday, as he was coming back from Llanddwyn to Clynnog, treading the surface of the sea as if it had been dry land, he dropped his precious writings into the water, and failed to recover them. The saint was much worried, because even for saints the task of writing sermons is a troublesome one.

When he reached dry land he was much relieved to find his book on a stone out of the reach of the tide,with a curlew mounting guard over it. The pious bird had picked it up, and brought it to safety. Thereupon the holy man knelt down and prayed for the protection and favour of the Creator for the curlew. His
prayer was heard, and ever since it has been extremely difficult to discover where the long-beaked bird lays its eggs.


Turnstones

The tide was high this morning when I arrived at the promenade, so I was not expecting to see many birds about foraging on the shore, but I’m happy enough to just watch the sea, so I looked out over the railings anyway . I’m glad I did that, as there beneath me, a whole flock of Turnstones were perched atop the sea-defence boulders immediately below. The birds were either resting quietly or catching up on their preening as they waited for the tide to turn and expose the rock shore once more.

11/9/11- Turnstone dozing

Turnstone-Arenaria interpres

Turnstones are distinctive medium-sized waders. They are high Arctic breeders, and are migratory. They are chunky powerful birds that have strong necks and bills that are well suited to their feeding technique. As the name implies, these species readily turn stones, shells or seaweed looking for hidden invertebrates. They eat insects, crustaceans and molluscs.

11/9/11-Members of the flock were resting or preening their feathers

As the birds were obligingly still, I counted 70 birds in varying sized groups spread along a length of the rocks, but there may have been more below and out of my sight.

11/9/11-The birds' rest was temporarily disturbed by a splashing wave

It would be interesting to know where the birds have come from as these particular birds have not been here for long. Turnstones are present around our coastline for most of the year. Birds from Northern Europe pass through in July and August and again spring, then Canadian and Greenland birds arrive in August and September and remain until April and May. Non-breeding birds may stay through the summer.

11/9/11-Plumage is mottled shades of brown, black, grey and chestnut brown. The head is patterned either brown and white or black and white. Underparts are white. Legs are orange.

Turnstones spend most of their time foraging creeping and fluttering over rocks, picking out food from under stones.

Their appearance is striking in flight, with white patches on the back, wings and tail.

Where to see them

Turnstones are found all around the UK coastline. They are strictly coastal,and are seen on stony, sandy and muddy shores beaches and are often found together with other waders such as Purple Sandpipers. The birds particularly like feeding on rocks covered with seaweed, and will feed along seawalls and jetties.

 

 

Stormy Bank Holiday weather

The Met Office raised the alarm over “persistent, heavy and possibly thundery rain” across south-west England and parts of south Wales on Friday, spreading to east and north-east England later in the day. For Saturday and Sunday, the warnings spread to north-east Scotland, the Orkneys and Shetland, which could face spells of torrential rain and winds of up to 50mph. Overall, the UK is anticipating a particularly gloomy weekend weather-wise. The traditional end to the summer season is likely to see temperatures struggling to a lukewarm peak of 18C (64F), even if many places will escape heavy rain.

There was no specific mention of North Wales in the above weather bulletin, but all of the above applied, including the rain. With my two small granddaughters visiting and anticipating some  sea-side fun, the weather certainly provided a challenge. On Monday, dressed warmly and armed with raincoats, we decided to take them to Conwy to explore the castle and weather permitting, to take a walk around the town walls.

Although it wasn’t raining when we left the house, it was quite breezy and the sea at Rhos was quite rough, but a bit further round the bay in front of the old pier at Colwyn, it was wild, with waves crashing over the lower sea walls. We sat in the car watching for a while, but I had to get out and take some photographs.

(click on images to make them larger)

28/8/11-The view back towards Rhos-on-Sea

28/8/11- A cycle of big waves beginning to build

28/8/11-Waves continuing to build

28/8/11-The force of the waves was quite scary

28/8/11- The full force of the biggest wave in the sequence

Rhos-on-Sea- seashore surprises

Walk from Penrhyn Bay to Abbey Road, Rhos-on-Sea

The beach of Penrhyn Bay is mostly made up of shingle, a hostile environment for plants, but some tough species have gained a hold there, spreading forward from the base of the sea wall.

24/7/11-Dock plants growing on the seashore with the Little Orme in the background

Shingle as a habitat

Shingle plants will begin to colonise above the high tide mark. Below this the moving pebbles will prevent any seedlings getting a stable hold. The plants that grow on the shingle usually have long and tough roots able to withstand the friction of the pebbles that will be disturbed by storms. Often referred to as a desert-like environment, plants like dock have water-retaining leaves that enable them to be one of the larger colonisers of this unique habitat, while smaller plants may be able to harness the water that collects on the surface of the pebbles.

24/7/11-Penrhyn Bay beach-Common Mallow growing on the shingle was attracting insects
24/7/11-Penrhyn Bay beach -a Migrant Hoverfly resting on a mallow leaf

I left the beach where the shingle  gives way to the rocky shore of Rhos-on-Sea, keeping an eye on the beach from the promenade. A Black-headed Gull caught my attention and I stopped to have a closer look. The gull was standing on a patch of muddy sand and I was intrigued to see the tops of car tyres protruding above the sand behind it. The way they were placed seemed to be deliberate, so I wondered if they are being used to reinforce the sea-break or stabilise the sand? They must have been there for a good while as some have seaweed growing over them.

24/7/11-Black-headed Gull with tyres bedded in the sand behind it

Focusing my attention on the gull and the tyres, I had half-noticed a brownish coloured bird against the rocks behind them that I thought was a young Herring Gull. When I gave it proper attention I had a pleasant surprise; it was actually a wader, either a Whimbrel or a Curlew, that was foraging around the rocks, probing its long curved beak into the the muddy sand.It was so well camouflaged against the rocks it was difficult to keep track of it, but I got a better view when it spent a couple of minutes in a more open pool of water.

24/7/11-Curlew on the sea shore
27/7/11-The Curlew blended perfectly into its surroundings

The wader disappeared from sight amongst the rocks and I carried on with my walk. I didn’t get far before I stopped again to watch a Crow that was acting strangely, flying up into the air then diving down again. It took a few minutes to realise that what it was doing: it was searching for a shellfish, picking it up in its beak, flying up then dropping it onto the rocks hoping to break it and diving down after it.

24/7/11-The shellfish does not drop straight down, so the crow has to follow it quickly or lose sight of it. 
24/7/11-The crow is surprisingly agile and turns quickly to make a steep dive
24/7/11-Diving Crow keeping its eyes on the landing position of its snack

There was quite a gap between each performance which I thought may have been either because the shellfish needed to be a particular size or species, or perhaps needed to be partially open, or  simply that each mouthful obtained this way required so much effort – it may well take more than one drop to smash a shell. I was fascinated by their behaviour and very impressed with their ingenuity; clever things.

There were quite a few gulls about; Lesser Black-backed gulls, Herring gull adults and juveniles and a few more Black-headed gulls. Herring gulls frequently chase other birds they see flying with food in their bills, hoping to steal it if possible. During an interlude in the Crow entertainment I spotted a mottled brown and white bird that I took to be a juvenile Herring gull being chased by an adult; as it broke away and flew towards me I was surprised again to see that it was another Curlew carrying something quite large in its bill; a crab I think.

24/7/11-Curlew flying with food

The Curlew flew back along the sea edge towards Penrhyn Bay, landing a short distance away from me amongst a cluster of rocks. Watching it closely I could see other Curlews gathered there, difficult to count as they are very hard to see, but at least another three.

It’s amazing what you see sometimes when you don’t set out to look! 

Oystercatchers, and more on the seashore

28 April

I was leaving sunny Rhos-on-Sea to start heading back to rainy Spain this evening (with a few days in London first), so a last walk along the promenade and seashore was a must this morning. It was a good day to leave on, the morning was bright sunny and warmish, cooled by a bit of a breeze that made for a pleasant temperature for walking.

My first stop was at the rocky breakwater, where I was hoping there may be some birds foraging, but there were only Herring Gulls. As I was about to move on though I heard the familiar ‘tschissick’ call of a Pied Wagtail and one duly arrived, landing just a couple of metres away from me. I’d had a couple of previous sightings of the birds, around the golf course area and a male ‘singing’ from a rooftop, but this was a perfect view of a female. The male bird is all black above and has sooty-grey flanks; female is dark grey on mantle/back but has black crown, rump and uppertail-coverts. Slightly different in appearance to the race of Motacilla alba we see in Spain and the rest of Europe, this is Motacilla alba yarrellii that occurs in Britain and Ireland and locally on adjacent Continental coasts.

Pied Wagtail – Motacilla alba yarrellii (female)
A Carrion Crow flew down to forage on the newly exposed seashore

The tide was on its way out exposing a narrow strip of pebble beach, so I walked down to it via a concrete ramp to see if anything interesting may have been left by the receding sea. On the walls of the ramp, nicely warmed by the sun I noticed several little insect-things scuttling about, which on closer inspection turned out to be Bristletails – of the 3-Pronged variety.

3-pronged Bristletail – Petrobius maritimus

The insects belong to a primitive group of wingless insects (Apterygota) that are dependent on humid conditions. The 3-Pronged Bristletails belong to a small order ( Thysanura), all the members of which have 3 ‘tails’, comprising 2 cerci and a central projection known as the epiproct. The most familiar member of the group is the Silverfish. I am open to correction on this, but from my research and based on their location I am assuming the ones I saw to bePetrobius maritimus:

Description: A slender brown insect, up to 15mm long, with antennae that are almost as long as the body. Central ‘tail’ distinctly longer than the 2 side tails. Habitat: Close to high watermark on rocky coasts and short distance inland in crevices. Status and distribution: Common and locally common throughout in suitable habitats.

I’ve seen very similar-looking  insects to this on our covered terrace walls in Spain, but we are a  kilometre or so  inland from the sea, so perhaps we were closer once upon a time and they got marooned and have adapted. I must try to find one and compare them.

Reaching the beach I disturbed a group of Herring Gulls that had been foraging on the sea edge. They flew up and began circling around, voicing their objection loudly and their proximity gave me a moment of anxiety as I visualised a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’. Then it occurred to me that they may have been alarmed by my long camera lens, so if they thought it may be a gun I was quite safe from attack. Phew.

I was soon distracted by birds I had been hoping to see, a number of Oystercatchers, very handsome in their immaculate black and white plumage, were standing on rocks at the sea edge looking down at the receding water and anything edible it may be leaving behind.

Oystercatcher - Haematopus ostralegus

Oystercatchers waiting for the tide to go out
The birds’ comings and goings gave the opportunity to see their outstretched wings
The birds grouped together to await a feeding opportunity
A few minutes later the birds began to venture into the shallow receding water
A bird probing the sea bed
The back of an Oystercatcher flying away, showing white rump and black tail-band

I became absorbed by the sight and was enjoying my close-up views of the birds, so the arrival of  a man with his dog startled me. He  stopped to chat to me and I told him I was watching the Oystercatchers – the camera with a big lens may have given him a clue I was taking photographs too, but he carried on walking straight towards them anyway. Needless to say they all took off to look for somewhere more peaceful.

Oystercatchers flying away

The expansive mussel beds located here attract large numbers of Oystercatchers, although they also feed on cockles, limpets, small crabs, shrimps and worms. Breeding takes place after the wintering flocks have broken up, in mid-April in the south and May or June further north.

I turned to retrace my steps up to the promenade, almost stepping on this huge stranded lump of a jellyfish.

A stranded jellyfish – the only big one I know is a Portugese Man o’ War, but I’m not sure what this is . I don’t imagine the hot sun would do it much good.
Common limpets- Patella vulgata and an edible periwinkle- Littorina littorea
Pebble beach

Rhos-on-Sea, the seashore & some local history

CAPEL SANT TRILLO – ST. TRILLO’S CHAPEL, RHOS-ON-SEA

I had taken a few walks down to the promenade and seashore without realising I was within a few feet of this charming little chapel.

The tiny chapel of St. Trillo, Rhos-on-Sea

This intriguing building is thought to be the smallest church in The British Isles, seating only 6 people. It is names after St.Trillo, the 6th century Celtic saint who built his cell here.

The chapel has seating for just six people

The chapel is built on the site of an ancient spring.This provided the saint with his supply of drinking water and would have been an important factor for him picking this site.The well can still be seen in front of the altar. For centuries this well provided water for baptisms all over the extensive medieval parish of Llandrillo.In times gone by it also had a long tradition of being a healing well. Communion services are still held in the chapel. It is humbling to think that you are standing on a site that has been a site of Christian worship for nearly 1500 years!

The stained glass window depicting St. Trillo

Celtic monks usually built an enclosure around their cell so that they could farm to feed themselves. This was known as a “Llan” and Rhos means marsh, so Llandrillo-yn-Rhos, the Welsh name for Rhos-on-Sea, means St. Trillo’s enclosure by the marsh, as the surrounding area was originally very marshy. Thus St. Trillo gave his name to today’s village.

Rhos Fynach Fishing Weir

The remains of some of the foundation posts of the old Wharf and view to Rhyl

Close by the chapel, at low tide you can see the remains of the foundations of the medieval Rhos Fynach Fishing Weir, one of many once found round the Welsh coastline. There used to be two fishing weirs at Rhos. They consisted of a large V-shaped enclosure made out of wicker fencing. At high tide the fish swam into the structure, and were then trapped in a pool as the tide went out. Weirs such as these were so effective that by Victorian times they were a danger to fishing stocks, particularly salmon. Therefore in 1861 Parliament passed a law ordering their destruction. As a result the other weir in Rhos was demolished. However the new law granted an exemption where the owner could prove his weir had existed before the time of Magna Carta (1215 AD). The owner of this Rhos Fynach weir was able to prove its medieval origins to the satisfaction of the Commissioners, and so it escaped destruction – further evidence of the antiquity of the settlement at Rhos.

Mussel beds, rock pools & birds

Rhos Point is a promontory on the North Wales Coast that marks the east point of Penrhyn Bay and the west point of Colwyn Bay. Battered by the Irish Sea it can appear a barren landscape but there is an  abundance of wildlife to be found there. At varying times, ringed plover, cormorants, turnstones, oystercatchers, curlews, red shanks, dunlins, and purple sandpipers may all be observed; the hours either side of high tide can be the best time to view the birds, as it concentrates them closer to the shore.

Oyster catchers feed on the vast mussel beds of Rhos Point, most visible when in flight
Lesser Black-backed Gulls are present here, but in fewer numbers than Herring Gulls
Lesser Black-backed Gull – Larus fuscus

I have seen Sandwich Terns in varying numbers most days since I’ve been here, but over the Easter weekend the numbers were high. I don’t know enough about the local area to be sure why they are here, but I suspect they are gathering and feeding before setting off to their breeding ground. Again, I can’t be sure, but I do know a colony breeds at Cemlyn Bay, on the north west coast of Anglesey, which is not that far away.

My photographs are not brilliant as the birds were a good distance away on the edge of the shore at low tide, but it’s was good to see them in such numbers and in their summer breeding plumage; in Spain I see small numbers of the birds during the winter months on the local coasts and around the Guadiaro Estuary, when they are in their winter plumage. (see ‘pages’)

A group of about 30 Sandwich Terns – just part of the flock gathered here at the moment
The Terns are noisy and restless, with many comings and goings
Sandwich Tern – Sterna sandvicensis

Sandwich Tern - Sterna sandvicensis

This is a medium-large tern, 37–43 cm (15–17 in) long with an 85–97 cm (33–38 in) wingspan, which is unlikely to be confused within most of its range.

The Sandwich Tern’s thin sharp bill is black with a yellow tip. Its short legs are black. Its upperwings are pale grey and its underparts white, and this tern looks very pale in flight, although the primary flight feathers darken during the summer.

In winter, the adult Sandwich Tern’s forehead becomes white. Juvenile Sandwich Terns have dark tips to their tails, and a scaly appearance on their back and wings.

The Sandwich Tern is a vocal bird; its call is a characteristic loud grating kear-ik or kerr ink.

Mussel beds

The main attraction for birds to this part of the coast is its extensive mussel seed beds, best appreciated at low tide.

Rhos-on-Sea mussel beds

Shells of the edible mussel - mytilus edulis

It’s a strange feeling crunching over the shells of millions of mussels as you walk, but  that’s the only way to discover what may have been left behind in the rock pools at low tide.

Looking into  a rock pool that held a Sea anemone (Beadlet Anemone- Actinia equina), edible winkles (littorina littorea) and more empty mussel shells

Rhos-on-Sea- more birds singing and nesting

10th – 17th April

The Dunnocks’ nest is tucked into a bushy shrub growing against the wall of an outbuilding in the garden next door. The garden is left more or less to itself, the grass is cut occasionally, but other than that the birds are unlikely to be disturbed. Since the nest was completed and the courtship display on the slate bench sightings of the birds have been brief  as they have foraged along the bottoms of the hedges, so I am assuming that the hen bird is sitting on eggs. I did have a lovely view of one of the pair when it flew to the slate bench to dry off after a dip in next-door’s pond.

A Dunnock preening after bathing: it fluffed out all its feathers then leaned comically to one side to dry out in the warm sun.  

Since I arrived I’ve seen Starlings around the rooftops and a male has been singing from one of our chimney pots. He has been rewarded for his efforts and attracted a female, and I have seen them both in the garden gathering nesting materials.

Starling - Sturnus vulgaris

The male Starling (blue base to his beak) has been singing from the highest point he can find, the top of a chimney pot

The pair were gathering nesting materials in the garden. This is the female with a pink base to her beak.

I was really pleased to catch this male Coal Tit singing from the top of a small conifer at the front of the house
There are a number of Goldfinch about locally.I have seen them in the front garden feasting on dandelion seeds and one male regularly sings from an aerial on a rooftop and this cherry tree