Curlews are Back in the Field

05 Saturday Aug 2017

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Rhos-on-Sea, Rivers of Wales, wading birds

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Afon Ganol, Curlew, curlew flock

July 17th

Curlews are back. That is to say I’ve just noticed some in the field as I drove past, I don’t know when they got there exactly. There were just a few for now, a lot of Curlew that return here will have been breeding, or bred in Iceland, but their return here following a few months away each year is one of the signs that summer is rapidly coming to an end.

More used to seeing these wading birds solitarily stalking amongst the rocks of Rhos Point, I was amazed the first time I saw them gathered together in a significant number in this field, although it did go some way to enlighten me as to where birds go when the tide’s in. That initial sighting was was back in 2011 when I came here to live and each year since I’ve looked out for them, hoping they’ve had a successful breeding season and that their numbers will be good. (Not that I know what would be classed as a good number; nowadays the curlew is a threatened species, and I have no idea how present day numbers compare with historical ones for this site.) I’m not confident counting birds, but last year by my reckoning there were somewhere around 80-100 of them here at any one time.

17th July 2017-Curlews and cows

I’ve wondered about the attraction of this particular site as a gathering place. In the present day, as fields go this is not a particularly large one and it probably qualifies as ‘rough pastureland’ having coarse grass, a generous sprinkling of thistles and not too much else. It is farmland, so the birds often have to share the space with large grazing animals; presently it’s cows, earlier in the year it was sheep. It is bounded on one side by the Llandudno Road, by houses on another two with another field fenced off behind it.

February 2017-Sharing with sheep

On the plus side, it’s conveniently close to the shore & a short flight gets them them there in minutes.The ground here is probably rich in invertebrates as the animals keep the ground well manured, and much of it it floods easily and holds the moisture, keeping it soft for probing with their long bills.

The birds must feel safe here too, when not foraging the flock takes time out to rest and preen their feathers.

Curlew resting, preening & bathing

They seem to be here during times of high tide when there is no accessible shoreline for foraging. They seem to instinctively know the exact moment the tide is optimally in or out and some trigger suddenly alerts them to take off as one and head back there.

Heading back to the shore

Maybe that’s all there is to their choosing this spot, but it could also be connected to the past history of the land within which the field is located. Going back to the beginning, a clue lies in the meaning of the name of the village, Rhos-on-Sea, or more properly Llandrillo-yn-Rhos: the Welsh word rhos, translating as ‘marsh’. In the distant past, before the construction of sturdy sea defences, high tides would have reached further inland than now and flooded much of the low-lying ground here between it and the hills, forming an extensive salt marsh. The flat area between the Little Orme and Bryn Euryn, from where I took the photograph below is the northern end of the valley of the Afon (river) Ganol, once a significant river which flowed into Penrhyn Bay and also into the tidal river Conwy at its southern end. Along its length several small streams also fed into the river.

July 2017-Looking down onto the ‘curlew field’ from Bryn Euryn

Looking down onto the well-ordered village of Penrhyn Bay with its network of roads and the modern-day golf course, it’s hard to visualise the wild place this once was, although following sustained heavy rainfall it is easier to see how wet it must have been.

January 2014 -Looking down on the flooded field where curlew, oystercatchers, redshank may be seen feeding amongst sheep

The Afon Ganol was by all accounts a dangerous tidal strait, and it formed a natural barrier rendering the land beyond the valley, then known at the Creuddyn Peninsular far more more isolated. Crossings were difficult; the river could be forded here, although the area was extremely marshy. Then in the 1800s, embankments were built at either end of the valley to allow land reclamation.

The effort and work undertaken to drain the marsh must have been massive, and hugely expensive, but by 1912 the OS map shows the Afon Ganol as being culverted under the Llandudno Road to the golf links, with a culvert going out to sea, but with still a large marshy area remaining. The establishment of the golf links then required further improvements to drainage and a new outlet for the diverted river was constructed. Dug 2′ below the bed of the river and the link’s ornamental lakes, this outlet then enabled the river and the lakes to be emptied during intervals between tides, keeping the golf course dry.

Today the Afon Ganol remains as a culvert with tidal outfall structure, which was updated in 2011 to decrease the risk of flooding.

A section of a remaining water course bends around the back of the rugby field

Interestingly, although the original river is now just a meandering waterway and ditch, in part diverted and culverted, it remains still the county boundary between Conwy and Denbigh.

Welcome back Curlews, the place is not the same without you.

Waders v Weather

23 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhos Point, The Wales Coast Path, wading birds

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

coastal birds, Curlew, great black-backed gull, Oystercatcher, redshank, Rhos Point, Turnstone, turnstone flock

Colwyn Bay, on the Irish Sea, has big tides and at some high tides water levels can rise by 8 metres or more. On windy days big waves are driven in and as the tide reaches its highest point they crash dramatically, in places causing spray to rise and splash over the sea defences. Regardless of the weather, for the gulls and wading birds that feed here it is business as usual. For people, walking along the promenade on such days can be hard work and exhilarating, but for the birds that feed here on Rhos Point it has to be business as usual and whatever the weather or state of the tide the birds know instinctively exactly when to arrive and depart to best take advantage of fresh deliveries or deposits of food.

Interested to see how the birds responded to challenging conditions, I took these photographs on an exceptionally windy day when the incoming tide was set to be particularly high.

12:51 – Curlews begin to leave.

12:52 – Most of the oystercatchers that feed here don’t travel far, passing the time between the tide-turns gathered together on the rocks of the seabreak in Rhos Harbour, a short flight away. Some linger longer than others.

Herring gull, Oystercatchers, Turnstones and Redshanks

12:53 – A group of Turnstones all facing towards the incoming water

12:54- Big and bulky, Greater Black-backed gulls seem impervious to the rough conditions.

12:57 – This photograph of an adult and juvenile Great Black-backed gulls cries out for a caption doesn’t it? I’m leaving it to your own imaginations though.

12:58 – Turnstones on the sea edge, most standing on stones to keep their feet out of the water.

12:59- Another Curlew leaves, calling to announce its departure.

12:59- Turnstones and Oystercatchers. Interesting that they are all facing towards the incoming water but weren’t actively foraging for food. I think they are all facing into the wind, which would make them more aerodynamic and streamlined so they don’t get blown over.

13:00 –

13:03- Smoothing feathers ruffled by the wind back into place.

13:05 – A Turnstone takes a bath, or is that a jacuzzi?

Turnstone rock- hopping to higher ground

13:07- The Turnstones are more-or-less gathered together now. They are difficult to count as they merge so well into the background of small rocks, but I got up to about 56 individuals and I’m sure there were others behind rocks and one another, so the actual number is probably 60 plus.

13:08- Some Oystercatchers are getting restless, preparing to go while others seem in no hurry

13:12

13:18- As the tide encroaches some begin to leave

But the turnstones stay put, despite the rising water

13:21- A Crow arrives and announces his presence loudly

13:23- Another Oystercatcher is ready for the off.

Some stay and scrutinise the water for any last-minute tidbits

13:25: The Turnstones seem unperturbed by the water rising up around their small rock islands

and are the last birds standing.

13:45- The water has covered the Point.

13:46

Black-headed gulls are the only birds still flying. Low to the surface they seem to positively enjoy the rough conditions.

13:50

13:53 – The bigger gulls are unphased by the rush of the incoming tide and rather than fly away simply allowed themselves to be launched onto the water and rode the waves.

13:54- Wind-driven waves smash onto a flight of concrete steps and shows how high the water would reach if the rip-rap defences were not there; those steps below the middle are worn smooth and their edges rounded by the regular scouring of the waves.

Catchers, a Duck and Divers

28 Wednesday Sep 2016

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, birds of the seashore, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhos Point, Rhos-on-Sea, The Wales Coast Path, wading birds

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

Cormorant, Crows on seashore, gavia stellata, mergus serrator, migrant birds, mussel bed, Oystercatcher, phalacrocorax carbo, red-breasted merganser, red-throated diver, redshank, Rhos Point, ringed plover, sandwich tern

September 10th-A brilliant day for birds continued….

As the tide began to return to the shore, every exposed rock in Penrhyn Bay was occupied by beady-eyed Cormorants.

Black-headed gulls also waited.

It seemed Rhos Point was the place to be for seabirds and waders today. In the time I have lived here I have never seen as many here all at once. I got there an hour or so before high tide, which is one of the best times to get close views of the birds waiting for their evening meal to be delivered. But as there were also such a large number of terns and gulls swimming on the sea’s surface and flying low over it, there must have been fish there drawing them in, perhaps a shoal of small fish, sprats or whitebait¹.

The tideline at Rhos Point was crowded with Herring Gulls, Black-headed gulls and Sandwich Terns. A woman arrived with two dogs and stood and watched as they chased along close to the water’s edge, sending many of the birds skywards. I will resist having a rant about that, but it troubles me that people think it’s OK to allow their dogs to do that.

Whilst waiting to see if the upped birds would return and re-settle I scanned along the sea edge to see what else might be waiting there. There were a whole host of Oystercatchers, trickier to see when their bright orange-red bills are tucked away whilst they rest. A few little Turnstones were dotted amongst them and then a larger bird at the back of this group, fast asleep with its head tucked well down – a duck for sure, maybe a female Red-breasted Merganser? Identifying ducks is not one of my strong points even when I have a good view of them.

Standing in the shallow water were a good number of Redshanks

and more Black-headed gulls.

A few Sandwich Terns were in amongst this group of Redshank, Turnstones & black-headed gulls.

I found only one Ringed Plover, although there could well have been more.

A large number of Sandwich Terns occupied a finger of exposed rocks with a few Oystercatchers and gulls, with many more gulls bobbing around on the surrounding sea.

The Sandwich Terns, here in large number today were noisy and excitable, with groups taking off and settling again in spots a few metres away along the shoreline. Some will remain here for the autumn and winter, but others will move on.

Their association with Black-headed Gulls is one I’ve seen many times.

There’s usually a crow or two waiting for the tide’s incoming feeding opportunities too.

Amongst the multitude of gulls swimming around were several Red-throated Divers – difficult to keep in sight as they dive frequently and disappear just as you think you may have one in focus, but a man close by with a brilliant telescope patiently located them and let me have a close-up look. Still not easy as you can’t predict where they’re going to pop up again, but I managed a couple of spots – what an exciting treat. At one point I thought I may have got lucky with a view of a group of six birds, also swimming and frequently diving and disappearing beneath the surface, but they turned out to be Razorbills, not quite as ‘special’, but still lovely to see.

They separated and mostly stayed too far out to see well without the aid of binoculars or a telescope, but as the tide progressed inwards, so also did one of the birds, allowing me a much better view of it.

As I watched the razorbill, the duck also took to the water.

I’m fairly confident it was a female Red-breasted Merganser. (The female Goosander looks similar but brown colour of head extends around neck leaving just a white chin). On this bird the white of the throat seems to extend down the front of the neck.

¹ Whitebait is a collective term for the immature fry of fish, typically between 25 and 50 millimetres long. Such young fish often travel together in schools along the coast, and move into estuaries and sometimes up rivers.

Birds by the sea

02 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, mussel beds, Nature of Wales, Rhos Point, wading birds

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Curlew, European Herring Gull, mussel beds, Oystercatcher, Rhos Point, sandwich tern

June 20th-Rhos Point

13.34- A sunny day with a strong breeze made it feel cold, but I was in need of some quick-fix fresh air and for that, Rhos Point is the perfect spot. It’s also one of my favourite spots for watching wading birds, although I don’t visit it much during the breeding season as it is almost deserted by birds and becomes uncannily quiet. Today I arrived as the tide was coming in and I spotted a small group of Oystercatchers waiting patiently for today’s incoming lunch, so I waited too to see if they would be joined by others.

As I made my way down nearer to the shore I heard some lively chirruping emanating from a shrub that has taken hold on the promenade edge, then a few House Sparrows flew out and headed for the shore below to forage amongst the exposed rocks.

Two elegant Sandwich Terns flew low over the sea, close to its edge.

13.37 pm – Oystercatchers on the sea edge use the waiting time to rest or preen.

Oystercatchers are high on the list of my most favourite birds, they have great character and charisma and the more I learn more about them the more fascinating they become. They are large wading birds and when not resting are noisy. They sport large long orange or red bills, which they use for smashing or prying open molluscs.

The diet of coastal oystercatchers is varied, although dependent upon coast type; on this rocky shore with its extensive mussel beds, they will prey upon mussels of course, and also on limpets and gastropods. They also take advantage of whatever the tides bring in such as small fish and crabs.

160620-Rhos Point 1339b-Oystercatcher with blunt beak

The shape of this bird’s bill shows it to be a ‘hammerer’

The bill shape varies according to the diet. ‘Stabbers’ feed by jabbing their laterally compressed bill tips in between the valves of a mussel’s shell, while ‘hammerers’ crack open mussel shells by pounding on them. Those birds with blade-like bill tips pry open or smash mollusc shells, and those with pointed bill tips tend to probe for worms.

13.40 – The Oystercatchers were joined by a beautiful Sandwich Tern.

The Sandwich tern is a summer breeding visitor, returning to north-west Wales & Anglesey from late March to September. In the UK, many of the important colonies survive because they are on nature reserves.

This is a very white tern, which in summer breeding plumage had a full black cap on its head. The bill is long and black with a diagnostic yellow tip. The legs are short and black and the tail short and forked. In flight it shows grey wedges on its wings tips.

13.44- A small number of Curlews flew in to land on the rocky sea edge, where their cryptic plumage allows them to all but disappear.

I took this short video as the Curlews arrived – coudn’t avoid the wind noise!

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.

13.47- The mysterious moment that suddenly galvanises waiting wading birds into action arrived and triggered most, though not all of the Oystercatchers to begin foraging in earnest.

13.48- A Herring gull arrived to join the party.

13.52- A second Sandwich Tern flew in, closely followed by a third.

The terns also settled down to preen.

13.59- A Cormorant flew past at speed.

14.04- A Herring gull- it’s good to see them down here, where away from the rooftops, rubbish tips and promenades they are not upsetting anyone!

Secret passage behind the sea wall

15 Thursday Oct 2015

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, coastal habitat, coastal walks, coastal wildflowers, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, wading birds, Wales Coast Path, Wildflowers of Wales

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

coastal birds, Linnet, migrant birds, Northern Wheatear, penrhyn bay, rhos on sea, Rhos Point, rocky seashores, seashore walks

On a sunny day last week I intended to spend some time checking out the birdlife on Rhos Point to see what treats the autumn migration had already brought to us. I started out on the roadside where there’s a posh new sign on the roadside above the bijou St Trillo’s Chapel, the favoured starting point for many of my seashore posts.

St Trillo’s Chapel, Rhos on Sea

It was windy here and decidedly chilly as it can be when the tide is coming in. A quick look and listen from the promenade revealed a good number of cormorants, gulls, oystercatchers, redshanks and curlews, but all still too far out on the tideline on the mussel bed to see easily.

I picked up a few seashells of some of the most commonly occurring species here.

Despite the sunshine, this was definitely not a day to hang around on the shore, so I turned to walk along to Penrhyn Bay, hoping I might find a Rock Pipit or two amongst the huge rocks of the seabreak.

Fox -and-cubs flowers on the grassy embankment bending in the wind

This view of the Little Orme clearly shows the tiers formed by quarrying.

I soon knew I wasn’t going to enjoy battling along against the cold headwind, so at the earliest opportunity dropped down onto the parapet of the seawall where a passageway is formed between the wall and the seabreak rocks. It was still windy here but not quite as strongly, besides which this passageway fascinates me as a habitat for an ever-increasing collection of plants and at this time of year it can be a good place to spot rock pipits and pied wagtails. And the rocks themselves are endlessly fascinating.

The turquoise green of the vein in the rock above puts me in mind of the verdigris you get on copper. The one below has sparkly white and pink crystal-like parts held within it.

A spider’s web screens a space between rocks

I spotted a bird on the rocks close to these steps and went down to see if I could find it again.

Steps going down to the seashore

I managed a quick shot before it disappeared. Definitely a pipit.

In the winter and in rough windy weather the sea reaches the top of these steps; the bottom few are bleached almost white, their edges smoothed, curved and shaped to form channels by seawater covering them and cascading back down.

Continuing along there’s a stretch that is particularly flowery. There’s a lot of red valerian interspersed with an array of wild plants and garden escapées.

Sea mayweed hugs the curve of the sea wall

Ivy-leaved toadflax

Sunlit fern in a rocky crevice

Marigold escaped from a garden

Tree mallow flower

Penrhyn Bay

Between the breakwater and the rocky shore there is a patch of flowery grass

and behind the rocks scrubby shore plants grow amongst the sand and stone chippings. This is the best place I know for fairly reliable sightings of linnets that come to forage for seeds. There were linnets there when I arrived, which I realised when they all took off and headed off across the road towards the golf course. From past experience I thought if I sat and waited on the steps beneath the sea wall they may well come back. Sitting quietly I realised there were still birds close by that gradually came back into the open in front of me which turned out to be a Northern wheatear and a pipit. I want to say it was a Rock pipit as this is a likely spot to find them, but it had an olive-green tinge to its plumage and may have been a Meadow pipit.

Northern wheatear with pipit

Lovely wheatear though.

As hoped the linnets came back too, a small flock of 10 or 12 birds, albeit too far away to photograph well.

A sea-shore in waiting

11 Tuesday Aug 2015

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal habitat, mussel beds, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales, Rhos Point, Rhos-on-Sea, wading birds, Wales Coast Path

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

acorn barnacles, barnacle, common mussel, great black-backed gull, herring gull, mussel bed, mussel beds, mussel beds of Rhos-on-sea, Nature in August, periwinkle, Rhos Point, seashore in August, winkle

Rhos Point from the Little Orme

Rhos-on-Sea is a popular seaside venue that is busy with people visiting most of the year round, particularly at weekends and when the sun shines, but they don’t come here for its beach. The seashore, wrapped around the flat fortified headland of Rhos Point, is not the most beautiful in North Wales: a general first impression may well be of an expanse of flat shoreline littered with variously sized brown-coloured rocks and boulders. No easy strolling or picnicking here.

Rhos Point shore looking towards Colwyn Bay-the stumps of posts are the remains of an ancient fishing weir

The rocky shore of Rhos Point from Penrhyn Bay

However, between the rocky shore and the sea lies an expanse of long-established Mussel beds which is highly attractive to visitors – of the avian variety. Large numbers of a variety of species of sea and shore birds will be returning here this month from their summer breeding grounds to spend the autumn and winter to feast on the gourmet seafood on offer here.

Rhos Point across the rock strewn shore to the mussel beds

Part of the expanse of mussel bed beyond the rocks on a sunny day

There may be a few early arrivals, maybe a Turnstone or two, but for now, approaching mid-August, the resident breeding birds, the Herring gulls, a smallish number of Lesser Black-backed gulls, Cormorants, plus a few Oystercatchers have the place more or less to themselves.

Great Black-backed gulls, adults & juveniles, Herring gull & Oystercatchers

Rhos Point shoreline with fishing weir posts cormorants & gulls

Rhos Point mussel bed, juv. cormorants, oystercatchers & gulls

Soon they will be joined by large numbers of Curlews, Redshanks, more Oystercatchers, Turnstones, Dunlins, Ringed Plovers and Sandwich Terns. If we are lucky there may be a few Purple Sandpipers in the mix, and there will doubtless be a few temporary visitors stopping to feed before escaping to warmer climes. There will be Rock Pipits and Pied Wagtails amongst the huge rocks of the sea defences. So much to look forward to!

Without the movement and cries of the absent birds the landscape appears harsh, a sombrely coloured, barren place devoid of life. But look more closely and you’ll see it is in fact a living landscape, richly populated by hosts of small sea creatures, which is of course why the birds head here for the winter.

On close inspection, the rocks that appear a uniform brown colour from a distance are actually encrusted with colonies of barnacles, millions of them.

Barnacles and winkles cover the surface of a rock

Barnacles cover the surfaces of rocks

Acorn barnacles

Barnacles and winkles

Turnstones camouflaged amongst the barnacle-covered rocks

Turnstones will be perfectly camouflaged amongst the barnacle-covered rocks

Winkles, or periwinkles are numerous too.

Common periwinkle or Winkle-Littorina littorea

At low tide, cross the rocks, skirting the pools of shallow water left behind

Rock pool with more winkles

A flower of the sea -Beadlet anemone – Actinia equina

and soon the crunch of shells accompanies every footstep, as you are literally walking across the surface of a dense mass of living Mussels. It’s a very strange feeling.

The Mussel bed – live mussels amongst empty shells

You realise now why you see mussel shells everywhere.

Mussel shells under water

Live mussels & a live cockle amongst empty shells and crab claws

Mussel shells on the tide line of Rhos Harbour beach

All is ready for the avian invasion.

Farmland fields,rooks, ducks & waders

20 Tuesday Mar 2012

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, nature photography, wading birds

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

corvus frugilegus, pochard, rhos on sea, rook

On a recent drive back from the supermarket in Llandudno. It was a lovely sunny afternoon and the countryside looked so beautiful I made a couple of stops to take these photographs. I love this time of year when the shape and structure of the fields and the architecture of the trees and hedgerows is visible and highlighted by the bright sunlight.

There is a rookery located in a stand of trees close to the road I was driving along; rooks are early nesters, sometimes having eggs in the nests by the end of February. I was hoping to get a couple of pictures that would show them in some detail to compare against the related carrion crow, but although there were plenty about they were all either flying or foraging in the nearby fields.

Three Rooks flying contrasted against a white cloud

Rook – Corvus frugilegus. The species name frugilegus is Latin for “food-gathering”. The adult rook is the only large black bird with a bare grey/white face patch. They can be told from the similar-looking Carrion Crow by the purplish gloss to its plumage and the baggy appearance of the thigh feathers.

The UK has the largest population of rooks in Europe. They are gregarious throughout the year, characteristically nesting communally in the tops of trees in ‘rookeries’ and collectively known as a ‘parliament’. Nests are built from twigs freshly picked by industrious individuals and are very likely to be plundered by unscrupulous neighbours. There is a distinct ‘pecking order’ in the community; the oldest bird lives at the centre of the rookery, best protected and sheltered from the wind. When the flock is feeding, rook sentries are posted to warn the others when danger threatens.

In folklore they are reputed to be able to predict the weather; rooks feeding in village streets or close to nests in the morning means inclement weather is to come – usually storms or rain. Conversely, rooks flying far from their nest means fair weather.

The presence of a rookery on your land is considered to be lucky in many parts of the country and that should the birds decide to abandon the rookery ill-fortune would befall the family. Rooks used to be told of a landowner’s death. The new landowner would stand under a rookery and give the news, usually adding the promise that only he and his friends would be allowed to shoot the birds in future. If he neglected the ceremony, the birds would desert the rookery – an evil omen in itself. This forecast the loss of the land and downfall of the family through poverty.

A Rook & a wing tip

Passing by the field the curlew occupy I noticed a number of ducks on the water that pools there when it rains. As I already mentioned, it was a very bright sunny day and unfortunately the only vantage point I had from which to photograph the birds involved shooting into the sunlight, rarely a good move, but I wanted to record the sightings. I thought the ducks were Pochard, but could not really see properly. As I watched they left the water and began moving over the grass, heads and beaks down, almost perfectly synchronised. I’m not great at duck identification, so if anyone can tell better from my rather blurry image that they are not pochard, please let me know.

The field opposite the golf course, Llandudno Rd. Herring gulls, Lesser Black-backed gull, grazing Pochard & a Curlew

I had no problem identifying the male shelduck there all alone.

a single male Shelduck making for the water

Redshank

Strangers on and off the shore

30 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature, nature photography, wading birds

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

black-throated diver, coastal birds, dunlin, purple sandpiper, purple sandpiper at rhos-on-sea, red-throated diver, ringed plover, shag, Turnstone

Saturday dawned bright, sunny and very cold, but at least it wasn’t windy. The sunshine encouraged me out to walk and I headed for the beach where I had hoped to take advantage of the clear light and take some shots of the mussel beds that are central to the presence of the wading birds. However, when I reached the end of our road I could see the tide was almost fully in, so that put paid to that idea. The sea was remarkably calm, but it was penetratingly cold and I almost turned around to go back for the car and drive somewhere more sheltered. Then I spotted a couple with telescopes peering out to sea and naturally had to find out what they were looking for. As I approached them I spotted a bird on the rocks, a Rock pipit was foraging along the boulders of the sea-break. It was a lovely healthy-looking bird and getting around quite nimbly despite the fact that the poor thing had lost most of one of its legs.

Rock pipit

Rock pipit, back view

It turned out that the couple with the telescopes were hoping to see divers, although apparently without much luck today. I know many birders enjoy sea-watching and spotting some of the less commonly seen species of sea birds, but as the best sightings are during the colder months and a lot of patience is required to achieve often very distant sightings, it’s not really my cup of tea. I am interested by the fact that it is possible to sight the birds around this coast though, and did a little research into them in the warmth of the house. The following information is from the RSPB website and from that I think the Red-throated diver is the species most likely to be seen offshore here.

Black-throated Diver- Gavia arctica

Family : Divers – (Gaviidae)

Black-throated Diver (RSPB image)-Found on Scottish Highland lochs in summer and around sheltered coasts in winter, and rarely along Irish Sea coasts. Moray Firth and W coast of Scotland best in winter, as well as the NE and SW coasts of England. Sometimes seen at inland reservoirs.

Streamlined diving birds that sit low in the water and dive with consummate ease. On land they are clumsy, barely able to walk with their legs so far back on their bodies. They are easily disturbed when breeding and their vulnerability to marine pollution make them a vulnerable as well as rare breeding species.

Red-throated Diver- Gavia stellata

Family : Divers – (Gaviidae)

Red-throated Diver- Gavia stellata -Outside the breeding season it is numerous along the UK's east coast, and occurs patchily along the west coast, with concentrations off west Scotland and around north-west Wales.

The smallest of the UK’s divers, its grey-brown plumage and up-tilted bill readily distinguish it from the other species. In summer it has a distinctive red throat. They usually jump up to dive and can stay underwater for a minute and a half. They are very ungainly on land, only coming ashore to breed. A recent moderate population decline make them an Amber List species.

Shetland is the UK stronghold for this species with other key populations on Orkney, the Outer Hebrides and the north Scottish mainland. They are also found along the whole of west Scotland south to the Mull of Kintyre. Outside the breeding season it is numerous along the UK’s east coast, and occurs patchily along the west coast, with concentrations off west Scotland and around north-west Wales.

The sea-watching couple had seen a couple of guillemots out at sea and also mentioned a Purple Sandpiper they had spotted on the breakwater rocks, which piqued my interest and sent me off my own ‘twitch’. I walked along the promenade, scouring the rocks in the hope of catching sight of the little Sandpiper, but with no luck. I also paid more attention to the sea and got out my binoculars for a closer look at a distant bird swimming around on the surface. Cormorant-like, but smaller, with yellow patches at the base of its bill and around the eyes and with a distinctive raised crest on its head, it was a Shag – Phalocrocorax aristotelis.

Walking back, another swimming bird, closer to shore this time definitely was neither a cormorant nor a shag. I had no picture in my head then of what a diver looked like, but this was behaving like one, diving frequently and staying under the water for a good while before popping up again. It occurred to me that it was a Great crested Grebe, although I’d never seen one at sea before. It was a delight to watch, swimming around at some speed then diving elegantly. Once it came up almost directly beneath a floating black-headed gull, that was most put out and then just seconds later it dived again and came up with a sizeable fish.

Great crested Grebe- Podiceps cristatis

The Great crested Grebe caught a sizeable fish

It was too cold to stand around for long and my fingers on the camera controls were numb, so I walked back home via the shelter of the neighbouring streets. It’s been a while since I walked that way and I was very surprised by the amount of flowers in bloom in the front gardens. There are already snowdrops, crocus, grape hyacinth, the occasional daffodil and most surprisingly, wallflowers. The weather forecast for next week is not good – overnight frosts, sleet and below-freezing temperatures are not so good for too-early flowers.

An hour in the house with a cup of tea and a sandwich and I’d warmed up enough to venture out again. This time I took the car as I was intending to drive over to the RSPB reserve on the Conwy estuary. (Point of interest: this morning’s sea-watchers had also told me that a firecrest had been ‘twitched’ there earlier in the day.) That was not why I was going there, but anyhow as I approached Rhos village I thought I’d pull over and have a quick look around the harbour beach for the Purple Sandpiper. The winter sunshine had drawn a lot of others out to walk too and I parked in the first available space and took the steps down to the promenade. There, almost right in front of me were a group of small birds peacefully dozing on the rocks waiting for the tide to turn. I recognised the turnstones and ringed plovers immediately, but was not so sure of the identification of the members of the majority of the group. I had to wait for one to stand up and show itself properly to be fairly sure they were dunlin – it was the long bill, slightly decurved at the end that clinched it.

A turnstone, 2 ringed plover and 6 Dunlin on one rock

I was more than happy to those three species together, but things got even better when I realised there were a small number of purple sandpipers tucked in there as well ; fortunately they are much more distinctive and I recognised them with no problem. I saw 3 in total, but there could have been more tucked down lower on the rocks.

Purple Sandpiper close to a dunlin compares their size and plumage; the dunlin is slightly smaller and much lighter in colour

The Purple Sandpiper is usually a strictly coastal wader that visits Britain in the non-breeding season and then flies north to breed during the summer. They are seldom found on sandy beaches but prefer rocky coasts, where they can be seen searching for molluscs and crustaceans among the rocks and rock pools. In the North West They can turn up on any rocky coast from the tip of the Llyn peninsular in North Wales to Morecambe bay in the North. They begin to arrive in October, reaching a peak by November and start to leave again in April. By June, at the latest, they are gone.They are about the same size as a turnstone, with whom they are often seen, and a dark bird overall.

Purple Sandpiper-Calidris maritima

The purple sandpiper is the only small dark wader with yellow/orange legs likely to be seen on rocky shores,frequently in association with turnstones. They have a rather round-shouldered appearance, the wings are very dark grey, the head and back a slightly paler shade and the partially streaked breast an even paler shade. They have a longish beak for their size which is dark grey/black with a yellow or orange base. Their legs appear fairly substantial and are bright yellow or pale orange. In flight they appear very dark with just a faint, narrow white wing-bar and bold white edges on a black/dark grey tail.

Purple sandpiper amongst dunlin & a ringed plover

A purple sandpiper joins another group, showing all 4 species together; dunlin, ringed plover & a turnstone

Dunlin - Calidris alpina

Ringed plover-charadrius hiaticula, in sunlight

2 ringed plover side by side; the one at the back is an adult, the other an immature with no black head band and an incomplete, brownish breast band

The birds were so close to the promenade that quite a few people passing by noticed them; some of whom stopped and asked me to identify the species for them. Perhaps not too surprisingly, it was the attractive Ringed Plovers that aroused the most amount of interest.

New Year catch up part 11

22 Sunday Jan 2012

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, birds of the seashore, Nature, nature photography, Rhos-on-Sea, wading birds

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

curlew camouflage, oyster catcher, redshank, Turnstone

The variety of wading bird species regularly foraging on the seashores of Rhos-on-Sea and Colwyn Bay remains pretty much the same as reported in the late summer/autumn of last year; i.e in the main, curlew, oystercatcher, redshank and turnstone. The numbers of individuals of some species has decreased, but there are still plenty to be seen and in respect of studying the birds more closely, I find that less is more. With fewer numbers to distract my attention I concentrate more on watching individual birds and pick up on aspects of their behaviour, the way they move, how they feed and such like. I seem to find this the most effective way to assimilate information about a species and how I learn to identify them more quickly in different settings by means of what practised birdwatchers call the bird´s ´giss´ (general impression size and shape).

Oystercatchers are resident here and there are always plentiful numbers to be seen and heard in a variety of places along the seashore. They are very distinctive in their appearance and its long orange bill make it unlikely to be confused with any other large pied wader .

Oystercatcher- Haematopus ostralegus

Two oystercatchers (one ringed) and a redshank also with a leg-ring

Oystercatchers flying along the sea edge with wind turbines in the background

Curlews are best seen once the tide is quite well out as they arrive to forage around the exposed rocks and shallow pools. Despite their size and bulk, their cryptic camouflage is so effective that they can be difficult to pick out against the background of rocks, particularly those that host colonies of periwinkles. Once you have spotted one, more seem to magically appear, rather like those 3D pictures that were fashionable a few years ago that required your eyes to go slightly out of of focus before the image was revealed.

At low tide curlews are perfectly camouflaged against the rocks studded with periwinkles

Curlew-Numenius arquata

There is plenty of space here and the birds range widely across it. Often they may be spotted foraging independently and sometimes in small groups of two or three. I have only once witnessed an altercation between two individuals when one decided to oust the other from what was clearly a prime pool.

A skirmish between two curlew resulted in a great view of the bird's outstretched wings

Turnstones waiting for the tide to turn take the opportunity to rest quietly on the big rocks of the breakwater, springing into action as soon as the first strip of the shoreline is revealed by the retreating water.

Turnstones resting and preening in the winter sunshine waiting for the tide to turn

The particular spot I photographed the birds in is a favourite roosting spot quite close to the edge of the promenade, but they are not in the least perturbed by passing people or dogs. They know exactly when the water will begin to retreat and some of the birds move nearer to the sea edge to wait despite being splashed by waves.

Turnstone on a sea-splashed rock

Occasionally the cold shower pays dividends and a stray shellfish may be thrown up nearby.

A Turnstone seizes a mussel thrown up by a wave

Those on the alert quickly move further down the shore to be the first to explore the first areas to be exposed by the retreating water.

A closer look at the undersides of a Turnstone as it flies away

Bird study – Curlew

10 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, nature photography, wading birds

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

bird camouflage, bird migration, Curlew, curlew folklore, curlew on seashore, Oystercatcher, rhos on sea

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.