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Category Archives: Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

Blowing Away the Cobwebs

26 Wednesday Jan 2022

Posted by theresagreen in coastal walks, Conwy, North Wales, Wales Coast Path, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

beachcombing, Carrion Crow, common gull, Llanddulas, mallard, Oystercatcher, seashells, strandline, winter

Wednesday last week started out enticingly clear and sunny, perfect weather for a walk on the coast path to blow away the cobwebs. But, despite knowing full well how changeable the weather can be here on the North Wales coast, I dilly-dallied, doing stuff that could easily have waited till later. By the time I was ready to go it had started to cloud over and there was a strong breeze blowing. But it wasn’t raining and from my window I could see sun shining over the far side of Colwyn Bay, so that’s where I decided to head for.  

Llanddulas, with an interesting landscape and mix of habitats, is the perfect place to combine meandering-with-intent and if required, a brisk walk along the coast path, despite its bleakness on days like today. As I pulled in to park my car behind the defensive wall of rip-rap, two hopeful gulls landed on the ground close by, one a black-head gull, the other a herring gull. Even here the local gulls have come to associate cars with people with food, especially since lock-down brought more visitors and subsequently more people in camper-vans. 

Black-headed gull
Herring gull
The Black-headed gull is beginning to get its breeding plumage, with dark feathers showing on the head above the eye

 

The river (Afon Dulas)

The river’s water level is low at the moment, giving the opportunity for repairs to made to parts of its banks that have been quite badly eroded. The worst affected spots are those where people regularly leave the path to get down to the water; these spots, already weakened have been further damaged at times when the river level has been higher after storms and heavy rainfall.        

Looking downriver towards where the river soon meets the sea there are more eroded areas, one spot on the bend reaches very close to the edge of the coast path.

Crossing the bridge, I stopped to watch three mallards that were heading upstream towards me; a female  flanked on either side by two males. They seemed to be in no particular hurry, cruising steadily along paddling against the flow of the river, dabbling as they travelled. The water was surprisingly clear, and though it was rippled and textured by the wind, I could see the ducks’ heads as they searched the riverbed. All are looking very handsome in their bright breeding colours and I wondered about there being two males and one female; mallards start to pair up around October or November, so was one male hoping to entice the female away from the other, or was she torn between the two?


The wind was getting stronger and as it was blowing from the north-west, I could feel it pushing me along as I carried on following the course of the river to where it meets the sea. It was invigorating and all cobwebs were quickly dispatched, and I tried not to think about the walk back against a head-on wind.

The Strandline

At its end, the river is guided to its meeting point with the sea by a great man-made wall of piled rocks and it’s behind that the shoreline becomes accessible. 

The tide was just on the point of turning, and the wind was pushing some big waves towards the shore where they crashed and left foamy trails as they receded. There is no shelter from the elements anywhere along this exposed section of the coast and today, even the hardy herring gulls, often here in great numbers, were conspicuous by their absence.  

When the tide is in there is no visible sand, so it’s not greatly attractive to people, but this rough stony area of the shoreline is always interesting, both in terms of what plants grow here and what the waves may have carried in and left behind them on the strandline.  

The strandline here at Llanddulas is almost always interesting and is a good place to find some of the bigger and tougher shells, although many get damaged by the rocks and stones on the lower shore. A lot of twiggy and small pieces of wood get mixed in with the drifts of seaweed too; some is probably  driftwood, but as there are trees on the other edge of the path it’s likely that much of it is from there. Sadly, there’s also usually a lot of plastic waste amongst the treasures, endless metres of fine fishing line that gets tangled into seaweed, discarded wipes, plastic bottle tops and spent shotgun cartridges are some of the most frequently found items. I always pick up what I see and today ended up with at least half a bag full of stuff to put into the rubbish bin, but it’s frustrating knowing there’s a lot more out there that really doesn’t need to be.

remains of a starfish
common limpet interior
common otter shell
pod razor shell
spiny cockle

The gulls may have been spending their day elsewhere, but there were several carrion crows about. One flew in and landed close to me on the rise of pebbles on the sea edge, perhaps interested to see if I’d found anything edible as I probed in the piles of seaweed. 

My activity also caught the interest of a free-running dog that came racing over towards me from the path, taking no notice of its owner’s attempts to call it back. It was a cute dog, but I didn’t want its excited company, and more importantly, I’d spotted a line of resting birds along the sea-edge just ahead of me and didn’t want the the dog to catch sight of them too and race over and disturb them, something that happens all too often here. This time I managed to divert it back towards its owners and the birds were left in peace. 

Oystercatcher – welsh Pioden y Môr

Oystercatchers seem, happily, to be maintaining good-sized populations along this coast and Welsh estuaries, but that is not the case generally, as highlighted in this recent post by Graham Appleton:

Over recent decades, numbers of Eurasian Oystercatchers have declined. In 2015 the species was reclassified as “Near Threatened” on the IUCN’s Red List (Birdlife International) and “Vulnerable” within Europe. It is also Amber listed on the UK’s Birds of Conservation Concern list, due to its European status, the concentration of its wintering population in protected sites and the international importance of UK breeding and wintering populations.

When Oystercatchers can’t find food
JANUARY 13, 2022 / GRAHAM APPLETON

Not shells

Moving on, a bit higher up on the beach there was more to see, including pieces of ‘stuff’ that are found blowing around on beaches practically everywhere and some that I’ve only recently become aware of.

whelk egg cases & horn wrack

On the left of the photograph, a bundle of the dried empty egg-cases of the common whelk.

On the right is a piece of dried almost fabric-like hornwrack. It looks like a dried piece of seaweed, but is actually a colony of animals, meshed tightly together, each animal contained in a little box. When it’s alive, hornwrack grows only during spring and summer, forming bushy clumps attached to shells, stones, cobbles or rocky seabeds and is a pale beige colour.

dead-man’s fingers

I first came across a piece of the stuff in this photograph on New Year’s Day whilst out collecting shells with my little granddaughters on Rhos on Sea beach. There was a lot of there and I was intrigued by it, although they both said it was ‘disgusting’! It does look a bit odd, I admit and it feels strange, very light and a bit corky or spongy. It turns out that it is commonly known as dead man’s fingers, which in its life is a soft coral whose scientific name is Alcyonium digitatum, which also references fingers, an indication of how it grows.

It was interesting to find it here too and others have found it on beaches further along the coast, so I wonder if it all originated in the same place, brought in by a recent storm and carried on currents to be washed up in various places?

fresh leaves of yellow horned-poppy

On a calmer day I might have lingered here longer, but my hands were getting cold and I can’t operate a camera with gloves on. I took them off again to photograph this surprising sight ; the new green leaves of a yellow horned-poppy plant, then headed back over to join the coast path.

Back on the path I deposited my rubbish collection in a bin in front of the café/bar next to the caravan site and carried on, still blown from behind by the wind. This stretch of path towards Pensarn is edged on the sea side by a narrow strip of ground which in the spring and summer  months becomes a colourful border full of wildflowers. 

Presently, it is largely covered by grass and spiked with tall dried stalks, the remains of last year’s flower stems, but already the bright green leaves of Alexanders are growing strongly.   

Watching the sea crashing in against the fortified shore brings home just how powerful it is and how vulnerable to its effects the land is.

In the near distance I could see a few gulls flying around the posts of one of the groynes and although tempted to turn around here, I wondered why they were here when all others were elsewhere. As I got nearer I was more mystified; the gulls were perching on the tops of posts and flying up just as each big wave broke behind them, momentarily covering the post. It was entertaining to watch, almost as though they were playing a game of ‘chicken’ – seeing who could stay the longest before being hit by the rising water. 

Common gulls – the perched bird has its first-winter plumage

I couldn’t get close enough to the birds for a really good look, even with a zoom lens, but at least two  were definitely common gulls, which we don’t get to see many of; in fact here is the only place I have seen them for myself. These gulls are slightly bigger than a black-headed gull but much smaller than a herring gull. The common gull also has greeny-yellow legs rather than the red of the black-headed gull and the pink ones of a herring gull. The best photograph I managed was of one flying, which shows its bill, finer and more pointed than that of a herring gull and the larger ‘mirrors’ on its wingtips.  

Common gull – Larus canus

My original plan had been to carry on walking to Pensarn beach, but the thought of walking back against the cold and increasingly strong wind from even further away took away my enthusiasm for that and I headed back. As suspected, it was indeed a bracing walk back and I stopped only once for long enough to take a photograph of the view in the direction I was now walking in. I think I’d be a bit concerned if I had one of those mobile homes close to the shore edge. 

Note to self: don’t park your car this close to the sea wall on windy days- salt spray is not good for it!

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The Wilds behind the Sea Wall

18 Tuesday Aug 2020

Posted by theresagreen in Nature of Wales, Wales Coast Path, Walking, Wildflowers of Wales, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

August, bird behaviour, coastal birds, coastal wildflowers, Curlew, Grey Heron, lesser sea spurrey, migrant birds, Northern Wheatear, opportunistic wildflowers, Oystercatcher, rocky seashores, sandwich tern, sea campion, small tortoiseshell

August is the month during which many seabirds and waders begin to return to our coasts from their breeding grounds, and locally, many will gather here around Rhos Point. Some will stay with us until next Spring; others will grace us with their presence for a while to feed up and rest before migrating onwards to their winter feeding grounds. My favourites of the latter group are the gloriously graceful, gregarious and excitable Sandwich Terns, most, if not all of which will be members of the colony that breeds annually at Cemlyn Bay on nearby Anglesey (Ynys Môn), so will be a mix of adults and this year’s young ones. They have been here for a while now but, so far, I’d only managed to see them from a distance when the tide’s been out, gathered right out on the tip of Rhos Point, where they are but small white blobs amongst Gulls and Oystercatchers. You can be sure they are Terns though from the mighty noise they make.

The perfect opportunity to finally get some good views of the Sandwich Terns and other recently-returned birds arose last weekend as I was house-sitting for my  daughter and keeping their dog company. Only a mile or so from my own home, but close to the sea meant I could better time a walk along the Prom as the tide was coming in; usually the best time to see wading birds here as they gather to feed on what it brings in. Already too late on Friday evening, I heard and saw a lot of Terns, but they were too far out to see properly. I did find one little group to zoom in a bit closer to and realised there were Curlew there too, they are so well-camouflaged I wouldn’t have seen them if not for the Terns.

Curlews & Sandwich Terns

09:54 It was predicted to be hot today, and with it being the weekend as well, there’d be bound to be a lot of visitors heading our way this morning to spend the day here. I’d left at this time judging that the tide would have reached a good place to get a better view of the birds on rocky seashore, in particular the Sandwich Terns, and also before the Promenade got busy. Reaching the spot in front of the tiny St Trillo’s Chapel, which sadly has been locked up since the beginning of the Covid 19 pandemic, I saw I’d almost got my timing right. The tide was coming in and the furthest tip of the land spit, where the birds had been last night was covered with water but it would still take a while for it to be high enough to get close views of any birds.

Promenade looking towards Rhos-on-Sea with St Trillo’s Chapel

The calls of the Sandwich Terns were reaching here from further along the shore towards Penrhyn Bay, so as there were as yet only a few people about, I could walk that way at my usual stop-start meandering pace without disturbance or obstructing anyone. I hadn’t walked this way for months, so I’d also take the chance to note any wildflowers along the way and perhaps add to my list of coastal plants.

There’s a significant change in the level of the Prom here by the chapel and you can either take the ladder-like metal steps up, or follow the curving slope around and up.

The base of the retaining wall is one of the places where seeds of wildflowers often end their travels, and I’m always interested to see what’s landed there. A few perennials, such as Cat’s-ear always seem to manage to survive any ‘tidying up’ sessions, and usually the annual Scarlet Pimpernel, one of my favourite wildflowers will have managed to lodge a seed or two in the right place.

Empty Prom towards Penrhyn Bay & the Little Orme

The grassy banks between the Prom and the road are usually mown to look ‘tidy’ for visitors from Easter onwards, but this year have been left to their own devices. This may be an outcome of cutbacks due to the Covid 19 lockdown, or it may be that our local council has been persuaded that such spaces are important resources for our declining insect populations and have left it to benefit both the wildlife and their annual maintenance budget. Time will tell.

Whatever the reasons, flowering now there is golden-flowered Ragwort, a lot of the ubiquitous Cat’s-ear and a fair sprinkling of the pretty burnt-orange Fox-and-Cubs, which is well-established here but which was once most likely a garden escape. I’d like to say it was buzzing with insects, but sadly not, just a very few Buff-tailed bumblebee drones and a couple of honeybees on the Ragwort. It was still on the cool side and quite early, so maybe there would be more later on.

10:01 A short way along you reach steps that lead down from the main Prom and onto a narrower path that is bounded by the recurved sea wall on one side and the piled giant-sized rocks that form the additional ‘rip-rap’ sea defences on the other. To most it may not look as appealing a route as the Prom, which has wonderful uninterrupted views over the whole of both Colwyn and Penrhyn Bays – in this direction as far as the Little Orme- but I would always choose this path, it’s so much more interesting!

As well as the afore-mentioned Sandwich Terns, this rocky shoreline is also blessed with the presence of the iconic and endangered Curlew. They too begin to return from their spring/summer breeding grounds during August and come here to forage amongst the rocks and along the sea-edge. Despite their size and distinctive outline, they are exceptionally well-camouflaged and difficult to spot with the naked eye in this landscape unless you happen to spot one move or locate one from their unmistakable evocative call. There were a few here this morning, but views of them weren’t close; the photograph below is one I took last evening; I think it illustrates quite well how well they merge into their surroundings.

Ivy-leaved Toadflax

Another favourite little wildflower is Ivy-leaved Toadflax, which I found at the bottom of the steps. Following the progress of the Curlew towards Penrhyn Bay I spotted a bird flying high across the road high, which then banked around in front of the Little Orme. At first I’d thought it was a Buzzard, but as it turned and I got a better, although still distant view, I knew it was a Grey Heron.

I’ve seen Grey Herons here on the shore once or twice in past years, but it was an unexpected sight, and I was pleased to see it turn again and head down to land. Even better was that it landed to join four more Herons already staking out the shallow water of the sea edge. They were still distant, but I guessed this was a family group and perhaps a lesson in sea-fishing for the juvenile members. What a treat (for me)! I could hardly wait for better views as I got nearer to them and as the tide grew higher.

Grey Heron family of 5 – Penrhyn Bay

Meanwhile there were more wildflowers to see. Buck’s-horn Plantain which takes its name from its distinctive antler-shaped leaves. Then Pellitory-of-the-Wall, which was once used as a medicine; following the Doctrine of Signatures, if a plant could break into rock and grow, it could surely break up gall or kidney stones.

Buck's-horn Plantain
Buck’s-horn Plantain
Pellitory-of-the-Wall
Pellitory-of-the-Wall

I am always amazed by the ability of any plants to take hold in such spartan conditions as those here, and wonder how they got here in the first place, especially when little groups of differing species grow in the same spot. One such gathering had Common Storksbill, Herb Robert, Dandelion and flowering Scarlet Pimpernel. Nearby, a healthy-looking clump of Common Mouse-ear had stems flowering and others setting fruit.

Scarlet Pimpernel, Common Storksbill, Herb Robert
Scarlet Pimpernel, Common Storksbill, Herb Robert
Common Mouse-ear
Common Mouse-ear

One of the flowering treats of this path is the shrubby Tree-Mallow, with this being the only spot along the length of the Bays that I’ve found it growing. (I’d be happy to hear from anyone that knows if I can find it anywhere else within that stretch!) The first plant I found was flowering but looking the worse for wear, its leaves dry and shrivelled, but close by there was a fresh one growing. These are biennial plants, so if it survives, it may flower next year.

Tree Mallow-Lavatera arborea
Tree Mallow-Lavatera arborea
Leaves of Tree Mallow
Leaves of Tree Mallow

I reached the old concrete access ramp, which I don’t imagine gets much, if any use by vehicles of any kind now, judging by the rocks you’d encounter at the bottom. The undisturbed growth of seaweed and algae, still damp and shiny from its last covering of seawater, shows how far the high tide regularly comes up.

10:20 The joyful sound of the Sandwich Terns had accompanied me the length of my walk so far, and I was hopeful that from the ramp I’d get some closer views of them. I did; there was a sizeable group of them, still a fair distance out, almost all with their backs to me, facing the incoming water. This slightly closer view showed up a mix of ages of birds, some juveniles and adults in varying stages of their heads changing from summer to winter plumage.

There was the added bonus of better views of the Herons too. There were definitely two adults and three juveniles, such a lovely sight. One adult was showing some interesting fishing technique too, hunching over and holding out its bent wings to create a ‘parasol’, shading a patch of water to better see or coax in fish.

I zoomed in on two that were standing on small rocks on the sea-edge and was thrilled my frame was photo-bombed by a Curlew flying past!Fishing didn’t seem to be going too well, but the birds didn’t seem too bothered, perhaps, like the Terns, they were waiting for the tide to get a little higher.Back up on the path a sign warns to keep off the rocks. Such advice isn’t always heeded, but the danger presented by them is fairly obvious and I for one wouldn’t risk bringing my adventurous smaller grandchildren along here. I know what I was like myself – climbing them would have been a huge temptation to me!The rip-rap is piled high here and impossible to see over the top of, so no view other that of the Little Orme and Penrhyn Hill, but the compensation is that the extra shelter from the sea and winds has allowed a colourful array of flowering plants to establish. A veritable secret rock-garden flourishes; the number of species isn’t huge, Red Valerian dominates, but there are others, more of some of those seen earlier and also a sizeable Buddleia in full flower.

Brushing past a patch of Red Valerian I disturbed a Small Tortoiseshell butterfly from its nectaring. It flew up, but didn’t go far, settling nearby on a rock; a lovely surprise, I hadn’t anticipated seeing butterflies here.

Buddleia and White Valerian
Buddleia and White Valerian
Red Valerian
Red Valerian

There were nectaring bumblebees here too, more Buff-tailed males, who unlike their working female kind have only themselves to feed, so can do so at their leisure and keep up their strength just in case a new Queen happens by.

200806-1030-ROSRP- (86)
200806-1030-ROSRP-Buff-tailed Bumblebee on valerian with shadows

Around the curve in the photograph above a St John’s Wort shrub is in flower, the common garden one whose smell always reminds me of rhubarb when you brush past or cut it.

There’s also wild clematis, or Traveller’s Joy, a huge plant, rambling its way up and across the rocks and flowering profusely.

Nearby densely leaved Ivy has taken a hold and it too covers an impressive area.

There’s Great Willowherb in flower too, which I photographed as much for the rock behind it as the plant itself.

10:39 The height of the rip-rap is lower again from here, and you can see the whole of the Little Orme rising above it.

A bright green Polypody Fern looks to be putting its fronds out tentatively

I disturbed another beautifully fresh Small Tortoiseshell butterfly, which again left a Red Valerian flower and landed on a nearby rock. It was opening and closing its wings to try to warn me off as I watched it, while touching the rock surface with its proboscis. I wonder if it was testing for salt or whatever other minerals butterflies often seek. These are one of our most charismatic butterflies, I think.

200806-1042-ROSRP-Tortoiseshell
200806-1042-ROSRP-Tortoishell on rock 5
200806-1042-ROSRP-Tortoiseshell on rock 1
200806-1042-ROSRP-Tortoishell on rock 3

10:44  The next unobstructed viewpoint is from a set of steps leading down to the rocky shore. The view to the regimentally straight lines of wind-turbines lining the horizon is clear and the sea blue and gently textured. However, the scene changes dramatically on windy, stormy days when the sea pounds the shore in huge waves and foamy water is funnelled up the steps, sometimes splashing right to the top.

The only occupant of this stretch of shore was a lone Great Black-backed Gull staring across the waves.

10:44  The path narrows and peters out as you near Penrhyn Bay and for the last few metres you are actually walking along the base of the sea wall. It also passes close to an unpleasant-smelling drain, or what may even be a sewer outlet. Usually, as today, this can be passed quickly, but I have lingered to watch Pied Wagtails chasing flies here on a couple of occasions. From this angle I always think Penrhyn Bay, backed by the quarry-altered bulk of the Little Orme and much of its shore covered with a deep layer of almost-white stone chippings, has an almost other-worldly appearance.

It certainly doesn’t look promising as a place to find wildlife. But as is so often the case, first looks can be deceptive. At the end of the path is a flat area of land, sparsely covered with short grass and bordered by rip-rap, which forms a breakwater.

Lesser Sea Spurrey-Spergularia marina

The first wildflower I found was one I recognised as a spurrey, but I wasn’t sure which one. Checking later I’m fairly sure it’s Lesser Sea Spurrey, a new one for my list.

Almost every gap, nook and cranny of the breakwater has a plant growing from it, mainly Sea Beet and Sea Mayweed, but there’s also Sea Campion and back nearer the wall, Curled Dock and Ragwort.

Sea Mayweed
Sea Mayweed
Sea Campion
Sea Campion

Walking back towards the wall I caught a glimpse of a bird moving around on the rocks. My first thought was Linnet, as this has often been a good place to see them, but they are usually in a small flock and I could only see the one.

I moved to a spot from where I could zoom in without frightening it away, and saw it was a Wheatear; from its mostly buff and brown plumage, either a female or a first-winter juvenile male. It was lovely to see, but a little bit sad too as it means summer’s coming to an end and they are preparing to leave our shores to spend the next six months or so in sunnier climes.

Northern Wheatear
Northern Wheatear
Northern Wheatear
Northern Wheatear

Turning my attention back to the wildflowers, from a patch in front of the wall I added Common Mallow and more Red Valerian to my list. There was also Greater Plantain, Perennial Sow-thistle, Cat’s-ear and a clump of Michaelmas Daisies just beginning to open their flowers.

There are some good clumps of Ragwort too, but despite all of these wildflowers on offer to insects, there were very takers; just a very few bumblebees.

Ragwort
Ragwort
Wall Barley
Wall Barley

On the Penrhyn Bay shore side of the breakwater, where the stone chippings are banked up and piled deeply, plants are colonising as they would a sand dune and I wonder if they will have a similar stabilising effect. There’s a small amount of Marram Grass, in flower now so it looks as though it’s establishing well and the patches of green in my photograph are mostly Sea Campion.

There is a good amount of the Sea Campion here, much of which has the expected white petalled flowers, but interestingly there are also a significant number of plants that have completely pink flowers.

It’s not unusual to find white flowers tinged with pink, but this is the only place I’ve seen them totally pink; even the bladders are tinted pink. Very pretty, if a little strange.

The peace is broken by a loud mechanical buzzing and looking out to sea there is a line of fast-moving Jet Skis cutting across the bay. They probably originated at the water-sports centre at Porth Eirias on Colwyn Bay, so were hopefully being supervised and watching out for the local Grey Seals.

11:16 The activity and the fact that it was getting increasingly warm made me aware that time and the tide were moving on and in and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get some more and hopefully closer views of the Terns, and maybe even the Herons. So back along the narrow path at the base of the sea wall, from where I could see above me there were a good number of people on the Prom walking in this direction.

Path along the sea wall towards Rhos on Sea

Viewed from this direction you can see better the extent of the lovely Red Valerian flower border; it is quite possibly the best display of it I’ve ever seen

There was yet another Small Tortoiseshell butterfly

200806-1120-ROSRP- Tortoiseshell 1
200806-1120-ROSRP-Tortoiseshell

and a patch of fern, this one Wall Rue, which I hadn’t noticed on my way past earlier on.

Growing round the bend; Red Valerian, Hypericum, Traveller’s Joy and Ivy, all as mentioned previously, but again, a better view from this side. There was Michaelmas Daisy here too.

11:30 The incoming tide had brought the Herons and the Sandwich Terns in closer as I’d hoped and I risked walking about half-way down the steps, where I could get a good view of them while managing to be half-concealed by the rocks of the rip-rap. These views of the Heron family are probably the best I’ve ever had of these amazing waders.

Grey Heron
Grey Heron
Grey Herons
Grey Herons

The views of the Sandwich Terns were good too, although I wasn’t quite tall enough to see properly over the rocks and ‘lost’ the bottom of a few images. They were good enough to make out their varying states of plumage in a bit more detail though, with some being more advanced in losing their black caps than others. It’s great to see so many juveniles too.

Sandwich Tern (adult)
Sandwich Tern (adult)
Sandwich Tern (juvenile)
Sandwich Tern (juvenile)

The length of path from here back to the Point is noticeably more stark, but I like the shapes and patterns of shade and shadow created by the recurved wall and lengths of iron railings, which change according to the degree and angle of sunlight. The structure as a whole is a pretty impressive feat of engineering and construction, although under ever-increasing pressure from the might of storms and rising sea levels.

I find the rocks of the additional rip-rap defences fascinating too. They come in and array of differing surface textures and many are patterned with seams and veins of minerals; such as glistening quartz, the verdigris of copper and rusty red iron. Some have traces of ancient seashells and many are encrusted with lichens.

quartz
quartz
remains of an old wooden post
remains of an old wooden post
copper
copper
seashells
seashells

I took a last look at the shore from the access ramp where a Herring Gull sat comfortably enjoying the sunshine atop an oddly pudding-shaped rock

and a small number of Oyster Catchers were passing the time preening, resting or foraging on the sea edge.

A Cormorant flew low over the sea in the direction of the Little Orme. There’s a sizeable colony of them based there, and birds racing back and forth are a regular sight throughout the year, but I always love to see them.

11:50 Almost back where I started from and the roadside is full of parked cars. I’d passed a good number of people already and more were heading towards me on foot and on bikes. I hoped they’d all enjoy their day here and wondered how many would notice the nature.

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Kinmel Dunes-Twyni Cymnel

09 Sunday Feb 2020

Posted by theresagreen in Coastal Nature Reserves, coastal wildflowers, Local Nature Reserves, Nature of Wales, North Wales, North Wales Path, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

active sand dunes, Alauda arvensis, bird behaviour, Black-headed Gull, Buck's-horn Plantain, cormorants flying, herring gull, kestrel, Kinmel Dunes, moss in sand dunes, sand dunes, Sand-hill Screw Moss, seashells, skylark, tree mallow

Much of the sand dune system that once stretched along the eastern end of the North Wales coastline has long-since disappeared, flattened to make way for ‘coastal development’, but a small fragment survives at Kinmel Bay, which lies between Rhyl and Towyn on the Wales Coast Path. This active dune area is designated as a Local Nature Reserve, which means that its worth to wildlife is recognised, but that it is also an amenity area for people; a challenging balancing act for those trying to maintain it, particularly so in a small space that is also regularly severely battered by strong winds and powerful tides.

This was my first visit here, and my first impression was that although proudly and prominently signed as Kinmel Dunes Nature Reserve, this is firstly an amenity area for people. The large tarmacked car park placed at the centre of the dune area, effectively dividing the reserve area into two, was the first indication of that. Then there are toilets and a refreshment kiosk at the beach end of it, both firmly closed up for the winter. It is clear though that the Reserve area is valued and cared for and there are several interpretation boards informing about the dunes themselves and the wildlife that may be found there. There are also North Wales Wildlife Trust guides to things you may find on the beach and details of how to record anything you might find.

Later on it struck me that if you were walking the Wales Coast Path you quite possibly wouldn’t realise that you were walking past, or through a Nature Reserve here as there are no signs on the path itself at either end to inform you of that.

To get an ‘overview’ of the Reserve area I followed a track from the carpark to the top of a small hillock topped with picnic tables, which I’m fairly sure would have been man-made as a view point over this otherwise flat and otherwise featureless stretch of coastline.

The view above shows the North Wales Path/Wales Coast Path coming in on the right (east), from the direction of Rhyl, then passing the public car park and the beach café, which is currently firmly closed for the winter. In the forefront a surfaced path curves through the dune area, which attempts to encourage people to refrain from trampling across the fragile dune area itself. On the shore edge you can see where the surfaced Coast path has been cut through the dunes for part of its length and where they gradually peter out to be replaced by a shore of shingle.

Leaving the viewpoint on the other side, I joined the Coast Path, which is also marked as ‘The Dunes Trail’. Today the path was heavily strewn with sand either washed from the dunes by high seas or rain or blown out by strong winds. Probably a combination of all three. As usual I hadn’t formulated a plan as to what I’d do when I got here, so for no particular reason turned left to head towards Towyn, back past the car park and the firmly-closed refreshment kiosk. There are numerous notices, warning signs about the dangers of the sandy shore area, keep off the sea wall, no dogs from May to September and a life-saving ring.There is also one of the iconic colourful Cycle Network signposts informing me that I am 1¼ miles from Towyn and 1½ miles from Rhyl in the other direction.

It soon becomes clear that signs and warnings are to be significant features of this stretch of path as here too is the more traditional Wales Coast Path sign, informing that Pensarn is 3 miles away.

The path is long and straight and bounded by a wide low concrete sea wall. The surrounding landscape appears flat and quite featureless, but in front of you can see the not-too distant hills rising on the horizon and stretching all the way round to the headland of the Great Orme.

 

 

Countless numbers of times I have stood and looked at the view from points high and low across the other side of this expanse of sea, so it was interesting to be standing at a point I’ve probably photographed many times.

Out to sea are the turbines of Rhyl Flats Wind Farm, situated in Liverpool Bay. This started out as a modest 25 units back in 2008/9, but the ranks of turbines has since expanded greatly so that now there seems to be continuous lines of them stretching from one side of the bay to the other.

I find it amazing that any wildlife can survive, let alone thrive in harsh, well-trodden  habitats such as this, but it’s also a wild(ish) strip of land on the border between human habitation and the seashore, so although not ‘pure’ sand dune, it can be interesting and well worth exploring. I left the path when I saw the beginning of a sandy path wending its way through and around the dunes.

I got off to a good start – a few steps in I spotted a bird flying in towards where I was standing, and was treated to a display by a hovering Kestrel. It may have spotted some movement on the ground below as it lingered for a moment, but there was no downward swoop and it soon moved away.

I was facing into the sunlight, so couldn’t make out all the beautiful details of the bird, but there’s no mistaking that shape and seemingly effortless aviation skills.

The dominant plant of the dunes is of course Marram grass, of which there is plenty here holding everything together. I’m sure there will be flowering plants in amongst it later on, but today the star plant was, quite unexpectedly, lovely bright green moss. I’d never connected damp-loving mosses with dry sandy dunes, but I’ve since learnt that they are often found on their damp sheltered sides and are important stabilising plants in dune systems. I’ve said before that I’m fairly clueless about bryophytes (mosses & liverworts), but I do love to see and photograph them and am trying to learn to recognise at least a few. Going on its location, i.e. sand dunes, and its distinctive ‘starry’ appearance, this might well be Sand-hill Screw Moss – Syntrichia ruraliformis. Growing close by to this lovely spread was another smaller, similar-looking patch with fruiting bodies, which may (or may not) be Redshank Moss – Ceratodon purpureus. Apparently the two species often do grow close together.

200127-KBLNR- (23a)-Moss in sand dunes
200127-KBLNR- (24a)-moss in sand-dunes fruiting bodies

To add to my identification issues, I found another patch that looked different again, but I think it’s the same Sand-hill Screw Moss, which protects itself from dehydration in dry conditions by rolling up its leaves around its stems, giving it a completely different appearance. I guess it’s this habit that gives the plant its ‘screw moss’ common name.

The path I was on soon met up with the surfaced path that I now realised had started from the car park, also marked as The Dune Trail.

An interpretation board at the end of this short trail, where it rejoins the main path, indicates it as a dotted red line. The board also shows the size and scale of the reserve and the proximity of ‘developments’, such as the Asda supermarket and its carpark.

All too soon I’m back on the main path and spot a length of chestnut post and wire fencing, (which in my mind at least, made a connection to my last post about the Sweet Chestnut tree).  I’m not sure if the fencing  is there to help stabilise the dune or to deter people from trampling over it.

Growing in the crevice between the path and the retaining sea wall, a flourishing clump of Buck’s-horn Plantain, clearly showing the leaf shape that gives the plant its common name.

Standing quietly atop the shingle bank behind the sea wall a Black-headed Gull. The birds’ heads are actually white in the winter with just a black spot behind each eye, then approaching the breeding season the head begins to take on colour as this bird’s is, darkening gradually to a rich dark chocolate brown; not actually black as in its name.

Black-headed Gull – Larus ridibundis

Also on the shingle, a patch of new Sea Beet leaves. The plants waxy-leathery leaves give it the protection it needs to withstand the tough conditions here.

More signs! This really can be a dangerous place for the unwary or foolhardy.

This coastline is reknowned for its many hundreds of mobile homes, most of which are actually static and available to occupy for 10 months of the year. I wondered if the intimidating fencing along the boundary of this site was designed to keep people out or in?

As a walk for anything other than fresh air and exercise this section of the Path, at least while the tide is high feels more like a corridor between mobile homes and the hard lines of the sea wall and the defensive rip-rap.

At the next bend I decided to turn around and head back the way I’d come. The backdrop to the houses is the Clwydian Hills.

The tide was beginning to recede. I wasn’t sure if the fisherman on the edge of the shingle bank was setting up or packing up and I wonder if he caught or will catch anything.

On the developed side of the path between the retaining wall and the houses is a wide strip of mown grass. On its edge there’s a patch of Rockrose with Ribwort Plantain growing through it.

Leaves of Common Rockrose & Ribwort Plantain

Lower down, in the sheltered crevice where the wall meets the path, more opportunistic plants are flourishing. A left-over, rather sad flower on Sea Mayweed; freshly flowering Groundsel; leaves of Dove’s-foot Cranesbill surrounded by new Chickweed sprouts and most surprisingly, several plants of Tree Mallow.

Sea Mayweed
Sea Mayweed
Groundsel
Groundsel
Dove's-foot Cranesbill
Dove’s-foot Cranesbill
Tree Mallow
Tree Mallow

And here a lovely aggregation of leaves of wildflowers-to-come in a pretty array of shapes and shades of green, which includes Dove’s-foot Cranesbill, Common Stork’s-bill & Common Chickweed.

 

I wondered if the origins of the Tree Mallows might be this tall and seemingly well-nourished specimen.

Along part of the edge of wall where it meets the grass a line of Marram Grass has established and left to grow. As it is in a straight line, perhaps it’s been deliberately planted to protect the grass from some of the salt spray and wind. I wonder why they don’t just let it revert to its natural state? It would look so much better and wouldn’t need cutting.

 

 

If you look closer, the concrete walls aren’t totally featureless, there are patches of lichens growing there, which I’m not attempting to identify, other than to say some are greyish-white, others yellow or orange.

200127-KBLNR- (55a)-Lichen on path wall
200127-KBLNR- (58)-Lichen on sea wall

The skies brightened, showing up some of the green on the Little and Great Ormes through a lighter haze.

Sea Holly is another tough but beautiful plant that can handle these harsh conditions, evident for now by patches of dry stems with prickly leaves still attached, held in place amongst Marram stems.

I glimpsed a flash of a bird that dashed from the dune side of the path to land on the shore side, quickly disappearing into the cover of Marram grass. My first impressions were that it was small, brown and maybe a Rock Pipit. Fairly well concealed amongst the dry grass stems it carried on foraging amongst them, in no great hurry, keeping half a wary eye on me and allowing me quick glimpses as it moved further away towards the beach. Possibly because I expected it to be, I had convinced myself this was a Rock Pipit, but I’m very grateful to Tony, who in his comment below has given me the much more exciting identification of a Skylark!

Skylark – Alauda arvensis

I know much less about Skylark behaviour than of Rock Pipits, so it was great to know they are here and to get so close to one. I’ll have to go back later in the year to see if I can catch any singing.

Another bird flew in front of me heading from the shore across to the dunes; a Magpie which landed on top of a Dune Trail marked post. I didn’t realise until I saw the photograph later that I’d caught it having a poo (sorry!); it looks like this might be a favourite perch for the purpose.

The sun continued to shine and as it felt a bit warmer and being in no particular hurry, I decided to carry on for a while and walk towards Rhyl.

At intervals along the path steps, safeguarded with iron railings allow you to cross the sea wall onto the beach.

All of those I’d passed walking in the opposite direction had been closed off, but one here was open. Taking the opportunity to get off the long straight path I thought I’d have a meander along the strand-line to see what I could find.

Views along the beach: above towards the Great Orme and below towards Rhyl.

I’m surprised anything survives being pounded by waves against the stony bank, but there were seashells there as well as clumps of Whelk egg cases and the egg case of a Ray.

Whelk egg case cluster
Whelk egg case cluster
Whelk shell & limpet shell
Whelk shell & limpet shell
Razor shell
Razor shell
Peppery Furrow shell
Peppery Furrow shell
Mussel shell with barnacles
Mussel shell with barnacles
Ray egg case
Ray egg case

More random was a plastic bottle I found on the sea edge full of pebbles that I guessed may have been used to anchor something down and a sea-smoothed fragment of a house brick bearing part of its maker’s name.

200127-KBLNR- (94)-plastic bottle filled with pebbles
200127-KBLNR- (88)-brick fragment

 

some of my rubbish haul

 

As always there was the usual rubbish entwined amongst the seaweed, nylon fishing line, dried-out wipes, bottle tops etc. Also the wrapper from a packet of biscuits, nearby Asda store’s own brand & some sticky plastic tape. I picked up as much as I could stuff into my pocket as I’d come without a bag.

 

 

A Cormorant fly-past

I carried on until I could see Rhyl on the near horizon. The lifeboat was out and ready to go, hopefully not imminently and the landmark ‘Sky Tower’ that is visible from far across the other side of the bay.

Back in the car park a pair of Herring gulls were investigating the overflowing rubbish bin. They’d pulled out some to study further, but I don’t think there was much there to tempt them. I picked up a few more bits that had blown across the carpark and left them to it.

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Wild and Windy on West Shore

22 Thursday Aug 2019

Posted by theresagreen in coastal habitat, Nature of Wales, Walking, Wildflowers of Wales, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

Blue Lettuce, coastal wildflowers, Duke of Argyll's Tea Plant, flowering in August, late summer wildflowers, Llandudno, North Wales Wildlife Trust, seashore, West Shore

August 19th

On Sunday, the North Wales Wildlife Trust held their annual August “Go Wild” event at  Llandudno’s West Shore. From the outset a powerful wind brought a truly Wild element to the proceedings, but the sun shone, it wasn’t cold and better still, it didn’t rain! And we’re a hardy and resourceful lot here in North Wales, so marquees, stalls and games were battened down and sheltered behind a windbreak of cars, big NWWT vans & the minibus all parked bumper to bumper, Wild West Wagon style. All well worth the effort as it turned out to be a really successful and enjoyable day, well-attended by a good number of interested and enthusiastic people of all ages.

Having volunteered to guide a Wildlife Wander on the day I’d done an advance recce on Thursday afternoon of the route I had in mind to get an idea of what we might see  and to take photographs that I wouldn’t have chance to do out with a group of people. It was windy then, but even more so on Sunday, so seeking some shelter from it, and in consideration of some young, tiny but very game wanderers we made a bit of a deviation from the original plan, but happily still managed to see most of the species of wildflowers I’d noted on Thursday, plus a couple I didn’t.

August 15th

Sunday’s wander would set out from our pitch next to the Children’s Playground on the Promenade, but at just past two o’clock today, although it was sunny, a strong wind was blowing and as it’s very open and exposed here I started further down, closer to where the dunes begin. A well-used path starts from Trinity Crescent, passes behind the buildings on the site of the Miniature Railway and travels in a fairly straight line to join the Coast Path through an open, grassy area.

On first impressions, this may appear to be an unkempt wasteland but a lot of wildlife loves such habitat and it’s always well worth closer inspection. This particular patch is home to a great variety of wildflowers, which then attracts insects and if you’re lucky, birds too.

Common Mallow-Malva sylvestris-Hocysen

Some wildflowers are tall and so abundant that you can’t fail to notice them, like Common Mallow. It’s currently in full bloom and full of pretty pink-purple flowers  hoping to catch the attention of any passing pollinators.

Between stands of Mallow there’s less showy Wild Carrot, largely finished flowering now and setting seed. This is one plant that is definitely in its favoured habitat- rough grassland, on chalky soil and by the sea. It’s a white umbellifer that’s more distinctive than most, as in the centre of the flowerhead is usually a single red-purple flower which is thought to mimic a fly that then attracts insects to assist pollination. After flowering the long umbels fold upwards and inwards to contain the seeds in a sort of cage.

Wild Carrot-Daucus carota-Moron y Maes

I saw an insect on a flowerhead and tried to photograph it, but as you can see the wind was blowing it all over the place and I couldn’t focus on it properly – when I checked the photograph later I saw it was a Sawfly – Rhogogaster viridis. 

190815-LLWS- (30s)-Wild Carrot flowerhead
190815-LLWS- (9b)-Sawfly-Tenthredo on Wild Carrot

Ragwort-Senecio jacobaea-Creulys lago

 

There’s a good number of Ragwort plants, many of which were being visited by bees. Most of those I saw were Buff-tailed Bumblebees; big and strong enough to fly between plants on a windy day, although even they weren’t going far.

I checked a lot of plants here looking for the black and yellow caterpillars of the Cinnabar Moth-Tyria jacobeaea, but there were none that were obvious.

 

 

190815-LLWS- (20)-Buff-tailed Bumblebee on ragwort
190815-LLWS- (15)-Bumblebee on ragwort flowers

Another abundant flowering plant is Soapwort, which has been left undisturbed and has formed some impressively large patches. It’s in full bloom now and a mass of pretty sugar-pink flowers.

Soapwort-Saponaria officinalis

Bees seem to like these flowers too.

 

The green leaves and stems of Soapwort were once crushed and boiled in water to make a lathery liquid that was widely used to wash wool and woollen cloth. For that reason it was often grown in fields and gardens close to woollen mills, and the plants growing in the wild today are often found close to places where wool was once woven into cloth.  

 

Across the grass at the far end, in front of the Blue Café and next to the entrance to the Miniature Railway is a big tangled bramble bush and my attention was attracted there as a cheerfully noisy flock of birds flew onto it. They were Starlings, most, or maybe all of which I think were juvenile birds, their plumage largely brown with black breast and underparts black with clear white spots.

Common Starling-Sturnus vulgaris-Drudwen

They were clearly enjoying feasting on ripe blackberries.

The path leading to the sea is open and exposed to the elements, so plants need to be tough to succeed here. Mugwort is one that both survives and thrives here, it’s not an especially attractive plant to look at, but it’s well adapted to its environment and it also produces aromatic oils, a device to protect itself from being eaten by grazing animals. On Sunday, the general consensus of those that rubbed leaves and tested it was that’s it’s scent is not particularly pleasant, but then it is supposed to repel midges, which may be handy to know….

Mugwort-Artemisia vulgaris

Golden yellow Ragwort and purple Greater Knapweed – the classic colours of late summer and early autumn.

In contrast to the Mugwort, Greater Knapweed is tough and lovely to look at – its open ripe seedheads are as pretty as the flowers.

Greater Knapweed-Centaurea scabiosa

Restharrow

 

In the grass there was Cat’s-ear Hypochaeris glabra and what was possibly a small  hawkbit – they’re tricky to separate at the best of times. Also small amounts of a white-flowered Common Storksbill, some Restharrow, White Clover, Pale Flax and the odd Dandelion or two were still to be found with flowers.

 

Where our path met the Coast Path was a lovely spreading patch of the yellow-flowered Ribbed Melilot.

Known as a plant of grassy places and waste ground, it seems to be perfectly happy growing in this sandy stony spot close to the sea.

Ribbed Melilot – Melilotus officinalis

A more common and familiar plant is the Sea Mayweed, a plant of sand and shingle, it can and does pop up in a variety places near to the sea if a seed finds a spot it likes.

At this end of the path there’s a mass of Sea Buckthorn. This is a thorny shrub with silvery stems and grey-green leaves. It’s flowers are tiny and green and appear before the leaves in the Spring, but now it is now laden with heavy crops of bright orange berries.

 From here the path, which is also a section of the Wales Coast Path, heads towards the dunes and Deganwy. The views ahead and across the sea to Anglesey and Puffin Island were surprisingly clear today, although there were rainclouds hanging over Snowdonia.

The wind had driven people trying to enjoy a day on the beach into the shelter of the dunes, some camped on the path, so I made a detour around them along the beach.

A wind-ruffled Crow foraged among the pebbles on the sea edge

The strandline was strewn with piles of long tangled strands of seaweed: looking a bit like piles of brown spaghetti, this is Thongweed. If I’d been here spending a leisurely afternoon on the beach I would have had to collect some and plait it. In places it was mixed with other seaweeds that had also been wrenched away from their moorings on the submerged rocks.

Flitting around the drying seaweed there were a lot of little flies, perhaps unsurprisingly commonly known as Kelp or Seaweed Flies.

190815-LLWS- (66)-Fly amongst seaweed
190815-LLWS- (61a)-Kelp fly

I photographed a pile of mixed seaweeds which includes Thong Weed, Egg Wrack (the one with big bubbles), Bladderwrack (with smaller bubbles) and some of the reddy-pink Polysiphonia algae that is a parasite of Bladderwrack.

Reaching the stone seabreak I rejoined the dunes, passing a big clump of Sea Rocket, the only one of our seashore plants to have lilac-coloured flowers.

Sea Rocket-Cakile maritima

 

I love this viewpoint and find it difficult to resist stopping here, and not just for the view: it’s furnished with a semi-circle of cut-stone slabs with lovely tactile polished tops, but it was too windy to hang about for long today. I did stop long enough to photograph the spikily beautiful large Sea Holly plant growing on the edge of the dune below.

Sea Holly-Eryngium maritimum

Onwards through the dunes the path was slightly sheltered from the wind, although you can see how the bordering Marram grass was being pressed almost flat against the dune and cliff sides.

Marram grass has ripe, or ripening seedheads now held on tall stems that sway stiffly in the wind. The view is quite clear over to Anglesey.

Marram – Ammophila arenaria

More Sea Holly and a very large clump of Sea Mayweed are flourishing in a sheltered spot.

The dunes end and there opens up the amazing view of the iconic Vadre at Deganwy and the mountains on the far side of the Conwy Estuary.

On the pathside Cat’s Ear is flowering and there is still quite a bit of Bird’s-foot Trefoil available to bees and butterflies, although all I saw today was a single Common Blue.

190815-LLWS- (96a)-Cat's-ear Hypocharis radicata
190815-LLWS- (97a)-Common Blue

Whilst photographing the Cat’s Ear I noticed an insect scuttling about and now and then entering holes made in the sand. Long and black, with a purplish iridescence to its wings and a very narrow ‘waist’, so likely a sand wasp, but I don’t know the species.

190815-LLWS- (86a)-Insect entering hole in sand
190815-LLWS- (91)-Insect 4a

More Sea Rocket, this time growing amongst the stones of the rip-rap. There were bumblebees nectaring on the windswept flowers.

190815-LLWS- (112a)-Sea Rocket
190815-LLWS- (114)-Bumblebee on Sea Rocket flower

On the cliff side of the path there’s more Bird’s-foot Trefoil and quite a lot of Restharrow still flowering.

 

On the cliffside itself, there’s an impressive spread of Rock Samphire. This is our most distinctive yellow-flowered umbellifer and the only one with fleshy leaves. It grows only by the sea.

 

 

Rock Samphire-Crithmum maritimum

And more Sea Mayweed, almost buried by sand.

The path continues to curve around the bay towards Deganwy, but this is where I turned around to walk back.

This point on the path is where I first saw the shrubby plant intriguingly named the Duke of Argyll’s Tea Plant. This member of the nightshade family with small purple flowers is not at all a showy plant, but it does have an interesting history.

The story goes that Archibald Campbell, the 3rd Duke of Argyll received this plant, Lycium barbarum together with a tea plant, Camellia sinensis from China in the 1730s. Unfortunately their labels got mixed up, so it was grown under the wrong name in his Middlesex garden and, presumably when the mistake came to light, it subsequently became known as the Duke of Argyll’s Tea Tree or Tea Plant. (From A Dictionary of English Plant Names by Geoffrey Grigson, London 1973.) 

 

The plant has been used in Britain since the 18th century for hedging, especially in coastal districts. Its red berries are attractive to a wide variety of British birds.

 

 

This view back along the path towards the Great Orme is wide and impressive and even better today as now the wind was behind me and the sun at a better angle to light the photograph! I retraced my steps a short way before taking the marked Public Footpath up the cliff, where it continues along the top of the cliff on the edge of the golf course.

Amongst the grass where the path begins there was a pretty patch of Eyebright,

Eyebright-Euphrasia nemorosa

close by there was Wild Thyme, a smallish umbellifer I’m not sure about and one remaining flower on a Goat’s-beard plant.

mmm

And, at last – a Ragwort plant with Cinnabar Moth caterpillars!

Cinnabar Moth caterpillars
Cinnabar Moth caterpillars
caterpillar of the Cinnabar Moth-Tyria jacobaea
caterpillar of the Cinnabar Moth-Tyria jacobaea

The continuing path is narrow and leads through gorse, taking a brief rest from flowering now, which is taller than me. A prickly path, but well sheltered from the wind and very peaceful.

 

In parts gorse gives way to equally prickly brambles, some of which are reaching long stems out across the path.

Fruits are developing, a few of them already ripened into blackberries.

This feels like a ‘secret’ path and you never know what treasures you might discover here. In a sunny spot between the banks of brambles, two Gatekeeper butterflies were chasing one another, then settled to bask on leaves. Nearby they were joined by a big Drone Fly.

190815-LLWS- (154)-Gatekeeper butterflies
190815-LLWS- (163)-Eristalis hoverfly

There are a surprising number of wildflowers to be found along here; still with some flowers there was Wood Sage

Wood Sage-Teucrium scorodonia

and Yarrow, which was attracting small black flies, at least one pair of which were mating.

190815-LLWS- (157)-Yarrow with flies
190815-LLWS- (159)-Small black flies mating

With little room for manoeuvre a large Toadflax plant, grown tall and leggy, had leaned out across the track

Common Toadflax – Linaria vulgaris

it was full of flowers and in this sheltered spot was being investigated by a bumblebee.

190815-LLWS- (167)-Toadflax flowers
190815-LLWS- (169a)-Bumblebee on Toadflax

Another plant with mauvy-blue flowers had also grown long and straggly and was leaning out over the path searching for light – I thought at first it was Michaelmas Daisy, but the flowers’ centres were blue, not yellow – I had to wait till Sunday to be pointed in the right direction to identify it after seeing it again then!

There’s quite a bit of Herb Robert here too, there are still a few flowers but most have finished and the beaked seedheads show the plant to be one of the cranesbills. Even in this sheltered spot plants still get showered with sand.

Herb Robert-Geranium robertianum

As well as Blackberry brambles there are also Dewberries. These fruits are similar to blackberries but the segments are bigger and they are covered with a bloom, a bit like a plum is.

Dewberry-Rubus caesius-fruit
Dewberry-Rubus caesius-fruit
190815-LLWS- (177)-Dewberry flowers

The path emerges back out onto the top of the dunes where the vegetation is dominated by Marram, brambles and a lot more Duke of Argyll’s Tea Plant.

I found a plant that shows off the leaves and flowers quite nicely.

Duke of Argyll’s Tea Plant- Lycium barbarum

There was a little more Ragwort here that was being visited by a Meadow Brown Butterfly.

At this point you can either take a path that leads back down through the dunes to the beach or carry on along the open path around the golf course. I took the latter, hoping to find a few more wildflowers to add to my list.

Apart from a bit of Traveller’s Joy amongst Marram and brambles, there wasn’t much to see that was still in flower, but I did find a small amount of Lady’s Bedstraw, a single Bloody Cranesbill flower, and a few Harebells to finish off with.

Bloody Cranesbill
Bloody Cranesbill
Lady's Bedstraw
Lady’s Bedstraw
Harebell
Harebell
Traveller's Joy
Traveller’s Joy

On Sunday, as I already mentioned we took a slightly different route to avoid the wind, but we did see most of the wildflowers that I’ve photographed or named above, which totals to some 40 or more species, and added a couple more. We also found lots of ripe Dewberries and a Cinnabar moth caterpillar on some Ragwort, saw a few bumblebees, but didn’t see a single butterfly.

Pellitory-of-the-Wall

One wildflower that I should have recognised on the day but that was growing in an unexpected place so had become long and straggly (my excuse!) was Pellitory-of-the-Wall.

And there was a lot  more of the blue-flowered ‘mystery’ plant from Thursday’s walk, which turns out to be a rather rare plant in the UK known as Blue Lettuce, or Russian Blue Sowthistle – Lactuca tatarica. I didn’t have time to take good photographs as the group were moving on, but fortunately the one below was good enough for a friend who had seen the plant here herself and researched it, to give me a clue! She later kindly forwarded me the following info from the UKwildflowers website, which is a direct quote:

Blue Lettuce-Lactuca tatarica

Known at this site from at least 1963, this introduced plant is also known as Russian Blue Sowthistle. It grows very close to the shore in dunes not far from a car park and is well established now on nearby cliffs. Flowering in late summer it provides an unusual display of many blue/purple flower heads.
L. tatarica is known from very few separate sites throughout England, the Isle of man and the Scillies. This appears to be its only site in Wales, there is none to be found in Scotland and only one site in western Ireland. 

 

 

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Fine Dining for Crows

02 Saturday Feb 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, Promenades, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 19 Comments

Tags

Carrion Crow, corvids, rhos on sea, Rhos Point, scavengers, what birds eat

Historically, the Carrion Crow Corvus corone, is one of our most maligned and persecuted birds and the species continues to sustain losses at the hand, or gun, of man. But as one of the cleverest and most adaptable of our birds they continue to thrive despite us. And in common with other resourceful species dependent on their wits and equipped for  scavenging, many can be found taking full advantage of our amenities and messy lifestyles.  I was reminded of that on a recent walk along the Prom at Rhos on Sea where the rocky shoreline and mussel bed are a regular foraging ground for Crows.

Carrion Crow eating a crab

I noticed a Crow dropping what I assumed was a shellfish onto rocks still exposed by the incoming tide quite close-in below us. (Us being me and my 16 month old grandson snug in his buggy). I’ve watched this fascinating behaviour before, but this was the closest view I’d had. Fumbling for my camera with gloved hands whilst manipulating the pushchair meant I missed getting a shot of the final successful drop, but I was able to watch the bird tuck into his tasty mussel snack.

This was one of three Crows foraging along this rocky stretch, one of which was rummaging amongst the dry seaweed and debris collected on the strand line.

It was working hard to extricate something from amongst the seaweed debris then having tugged it loose, it carried it off to a large rock nearby.

I couldn’t work out what on earth it was, but watching the bird tear off smallish pieces to eat, a piece of old, greasy chip paper came to mind! Even looking more closely at my photographs hasn’t enlightened me, so I’d be interested to hear anyone’s alternative suggestions. Whatever it was the Crow seemed more than happy with it, clamping it to the rock with its feet to make tearing easier.

As I said earlier, there were three Crows foraging more or less together. They seem to be adolescent birds, so could well be siblings from last year’s brood produced by the resident local pair. It wasn’t long before one of the others spotted the potential to share the bounty and, crouching low to the rock, tried to sneak in stealthily.

Going in from the front clearly wasn’t the brightest idea, and it was soon sent  packing.

It didn’t give up and soon tried again, this time more assertively. That didn’t work either, it just made the feeder more annoyed and this time the would-be robber was dispatched with cawing and an aerial attack.

Even that wasn’t enough to put it off though and it soon came back again, sneaking up from behind this time.

A determined lunge and a grab with its formidable beak finally secured it a piece of whatever-it-was and it fluttered off to a spot surprisingly close by to enjoy its stolen prize.


I’m sure the snack was all the tastier for not having had to work for it.

I thanked the birds for sharing their mealtime with me and left them to it.

 

 

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Siesta Time On the Saltmarsh

22 Tuesday Jan 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Coastal Snowdonia, Local Nature Reserves, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Special Protection Area, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Curlew, Goosander, Haematopus ostralegus, Llanfairfechan, mistle thrush, overwintering birds, Oystercatcher, redshank, roosting birds, SSS1, Traeth Lafan

January 6th

11:19- A first view of the Oystercatcher roost. This regular high-tide spectacle was what I was here to see, but though I knew the birds would be there, that first sight always brings mixed feelings. Firstly there’s relief that things are as they should be, which is quickly followed by the delight of witnessing a truly amazing sight. The numbers of overwintering Oystercatchers are the reason that Traeth Lafan holds the status of Special Protection Area (SPA), which in theory means that measures are put in place to protect populations of specific species of birds of European importance. How that works in practise and what the measures taken are, I’m not too sure. According to Natural Resources Wales, there can be somewhere in the region of 5,000 Oystercatchers present over the winter months, which is at least 0.5% of the wintering Europe and North & Western Africa population. On the same basis as the SPA, the birds are also a qualifying component of the site’s SSSI status.

Oystercatchers roost, rest or preen at high tides when their feeding grounds are flooded

As I’ve confessed before, I’m not good at counting large numbers of birds at the best of times and these were packed tightly together with more out of sight over the far side of the raised spit, so I’m sure they number in the low thousands. Oystercatchers don’t always roost tightly packed together, so it was interesting to see how in this photograph a lot of the birds are pressed together and standing neatly in straight horizontal lines, particularly those on the outsides of the flock.

This roost wasn’t entirely about the Oystercatchers either; a number of Curlew were squeezed in amongst them and Redshanks had tagged on too. The Redshanks were the first ones awake and back in action at the very instant the tide turned and the water started to recede. I imagine the Oystercatchers resting more peacefully with Redshanks present which will sound off alarms at any potential threat.

A Shelduck was standing on the sandy edge of the stony spit enjoying a lengthy thorough preening session.

Shelduck – Tadorna tadorna

Once it had finished it too waddled into the shallow water to begin again the endless quest for food. Shelduck are surface feeders, taking mostly animal food from mud or shallow water.

The Redshanks were joined by a flock of Dunlin and Ringed Plovers that flew in and scattered along the freshly exposed sand; quite possibly these were at least some of those that I saw back at the beginning of my walk. 

A little further inland at the back of the Oystercatcher roost I’d spotted three ducks resting on a stony bank. There was one dark-headed male and two with reddy brown heads that I took to be either females or juveniles. They were quite a distance away and as they were sitting I had no idea what they were, then they got up and headed into the water.

On land the birds had seem plump and awkward, but out on the water they became elegant, gliding across the water and diving effortlessly and often. Based on the appearance of the male I thought Goosander, but then doubted myself as this species of diving duck usually prefer freshwater lakes and don’t often swim in the sea. If I’d only seen the females I would probably have thought they were Red-breasted Mergansers, which often swim on the sea and are associated more with this location.  The females of both species look similar, but there’s definitely no red breast on this male.

Goosander – Mergus merganser

The female Goosander has a similar brown head to the Red-breasted Merganser female, but the Goosander has a flatter crown.

Walking back the water had already almost completely drained from the channels that cut through the marshland.

 

 

Hearing a Redshank making a loud and insistent racket I walked towards the sound to see what was happening to alarm it. There was nothing I could see, but I was treated to a charming display of it stamping and dancing in the mud, which it accompanied with some loud piping.

 

 


A small flock of Wigeon were resting; some on a newly-exposed mud bank and more up in the grass.

A pair of Teal sitting up in the long grass was perhaps my favourite pic of the day.

Curlews were also still resting in the sunshine.

But the sheep were on the move, I met them head on as they were walking in single file back in the direction of the field the Curlew were in. I stood to the side so they could pass in peace, they startle quite easily.

On the seashore a few waders were already out searching for shellfish in the still-soft damp sand.It’s fascinating watching the birds in action, the Curlew with its long curved bill can probe deeply into the sand.

 

Oystercatchers walk slowly over damp mud or sand probing their bills into the sand right up to the base if necessary in search of shellfish. This one seemed to be doing well; I watched it retrieve several mussels as I watched it. Different individuals use differing techniques to get the animals out of their shells, some like this one, stab the muscle that holds the shell halves together and retain their pointed bill. Others take a less delicate approach and hammer the shell open, often on stones or rocks, which blunts the end of their bills.




Oystercatcher adeptly opening a mussel shell

A Little Egret stalked close to the shore. Gorgeous views of the sunlit bird against the steely blue seawater.

And to finish on dry land, lovely views of a pair of Mistle Thrushes also out hunting, this time on the damp ground of the grassy field. It could well be that they are preparing for nesting; the Mistle Thrush is one of the earliest species to breed, some nest as early as February.

The Mistle Thrush has the most upright stance of all of the thrushes and moves around with bold heavy hops. Unlike the more secretive Song Thrush they like to feed out in the open in large grassy spaces.

Sightings summary over two consecutive days: Goosander; Pintail; Shelduck; Mallard; Mute Swan; Wigeon;Teal; Grey Heron; Little Egret; Curlew; Redshank; Greenshank; Oystercatcher; Turnstone; Dunlin; Ringed Plover; Herring Gull; Black-headed Gull; Carrion Crow; Jackdaw; Mistle Thrush; Chaffinch; Dunnock & a lot of sheep

 

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The Difference a Tide Makes

17 Thursday Jan 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal habitat, Coastal Snowdonia, Local Nature Reserves, Nature, Nature of Public Places, North Wales, Saltmarsh habitat, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

bird behaviour, Black-headed Gull, conservation grazing, Curlew, ducks and geese, dunlin, flocks of birds, Glan y Mor Elias Nature Reserve, Llanfairfechan, Oystercatcher, pintail, ringed plover, roosting birds, shelduck, teal, Traeth Lafan, Turnstone, wigeon

January 6th

We’ve had a strange winter thus far, so perhaps I shouldn’t have been too surprised by today’s bright sunny morning, but now I just had to get out and enjoy it. Sunday is not my favourite day for heading to places I know are going to be busy, but I was very tempted to repeat yesterday’s walk on a sunny day. Recently my visits to Traeth Lafan at Llanfairfechan have been at times when the tide has been low, so before deciding to head there I checked the tide times and saw that high tide there would be at 10:36 am, so that settled it, I was going back to see what a difference the influx of water made.

 LLANFAIRFECHAN 

10:24- I’d timed my arrival perfectly; almost simultaneously with me reaching the Promenade and looking over the sea wall a flock of small birds flew in and landed neatly, like a ribbon unfurling along the stony sea edge. I am always impressed with their timing and precision, each bird dropping neatly into place only centimetres away from its neighbour. There were an impressive number of birds here, at a rough count around about 200 and strung out in a line so long it was difficult to get them all into the same frame. (click on the image to enlarge it)

A first glance gave Dunlins, looking tiny next to the Oystercatcher that must have been startled to find itself suddenly surrounded by incomers; I wondered if perhaps the flock leaders had made it their landing beacon.

Dunlins, Ringed Plovers and a single Turnstone surrounding an Oystercatcher

Within seconds of setting down many of the birds had switched to rest mode, tucking heads down and one leg up. They were just a few metres away from where I stood and I zoomed in on a small group for a closer look, realising then that there were similarly-sized Ringed Plovers amongst the predominance of Dunlins.

I was momentarily distracted from watching this peaceful scene by the cries and sounds of frantic flapping behind me. A gang of Black-headed Gulls were swooping down towards the edge of the lake where the Swan family had gathered to feast on food thrown in to them by a visitor.

The gulls had no hesitation in diving in amongst the Swans, not at all intimidated by the much larger birds. 

Turning back to the flock of little waders I sought out more Ringed Plovers.

These birds breed here and I could see both adult and juvenile birds, some of which I could see were ringed: I wondered if they’d been born and raised here. There were ringed Dunlins there too.

10:30 It took a while to get to the end of the line, but when I finally reached it I was happy to see the tail-enders were a flock of Turnstones.

Turnstone- Arenaria interpres

I could have stood and watched for longer, although the birds were resting, so not doing much, but I reminded myself that I wanted to make it round to the Oystercatcher roost before the tide turned and they all disappeared, so I tore myself away. Another Black-headed gull floating around on the sea caught my eye – I’m checking them all out in case one turns out to be a Little gull, which sometimes turn up along this coast. They look similar in winter plumage, both species having similar dark face patches, but the Little gull also retains a dark spot on its crown which this one didn’t have.

Black-headed Gull-larus ridibundis

10:38- It really did feel like a completely different place here today. The sunshine and lack of wind made it feel almost warm (the car temperature gauge had said 10º); the tide was high, the sea was blue, calm as a lake and completely covered the sands. It was still quite early, but there were people strolling along the Prom, not speed-walking with heads down against the wind like yesterday. Almost everyone I met smiled and spoke in greeting. 

 

I must have been doing the head-down-not looking-where- was-going-thing myself yesterday as I failed to notice the pile of huge rocks (rip-rap) that has been piled up and over the sea wall on the corner where the path bends round by the trees. I probably only noticed it today as I spotted the bi-lingual warning signs.

10:46-Almost at the end of the paved section of the path I see a distant flock of birds take to the air; something had disturbed and upped the Oystercatchers from their roost. 

10:48- I try not to dwell on what may have disturbed the birds and concentrate on the scene before me; grazing sheep behind a line of resting birds. Although distant, from the size and colour of them they could only be Curlews. 
10:50-Zooming in on them confirmed they were indeed Curlews, mostly lined up along one side of a deep channel of water. I smiled when I saw the next photograph and saw the two sheep standing face to face looking straight into the albeit-distant lens. It looks like one is whispering in the other’s ear.

I got onto the wide grassy track leading through the saltmarsh which forms one bank of a deep water channel, filled now by the high tide, which took me slightly closer to the birds. The majority of the Curlew were standing, all facing in the same direction with their backs to the water. They weren’t in a tight pack, but rather in small groups or standing alone; I reckoned there were around 40 birds. From this better vantage point I could see that there was a flock of Redshanks there too, standing behind the bigger Curlews and nearer to the water: they too were all facing in the same direction.

The sheep were travelling away, some were sitting down.

The birds are not far from the edge of the Menai Strait; the view behind them is of Anglesey and the town is Beaumaris – you can see Beaumaris Castle in the right of the picture.

A closer look at the Curlew shows most are standing still but not roosting with their heads tucked down. Perhaps these are the ones charged with keeping alert to spot potential dangers.

More of the Redshanks do seem to be sleeping.

The sheep are moving on.

10:58- I spot a pair of Teal rummaging around in the long grass on the far side of the channel I’m walking next to.

The male drake was probing the mud with his bill, digging it in deeply; I didn’t know they did that.

Another pair were foraging along the bankside from the water.

11:01-Across the other side of this channel stood a pair of Wigeon.

They had a good long look around them to make sure it was safe before getting down to preening.

11:02-A Little Egret flew in and landed in the water close to the Wigeon.


The egret stepped out onto the bank, watched by a Redshank.

11:06- A small flock of finch-sized birds passed overhead, twittering as they flew and landed on a patch of small rocks and pebbles. Exactly what Linnets do, which is what they were.

Linnet flock in flight

They are difficult to see amongst the stones.

Linnets favour stony ground

11:10 I have a good clear view of a pair of Teal, their colours in the sunshine showing as they should be.

Teal duck
Teal duck
Teal drake
Teal drake

11:10- A larger duck was sailing along the edge of a channel. He was difficult to see properly as he was in the shade cast by a muddy bank and his dark colours weren’t standing out well. My first thought was Pintail – based solely on its overall elegant appearance and the shape of its tail, which as the name suggests is long and sharply pointed. Could I be that lucky? I had no idea as to whether they might be present here, so hoped the photographs I managed to get would be good enough to help me later.

Pintail-Anas acuta

Checking my reference books at home later on I’m happy my instinct was right and it was indeed a Pintail. I’m so chuffed to have seen it, albeit briefly.

The Welsh for Pintail is Hwyaden Lostfain

11:13- The view over the watery saltmarsh to the sunlit mountains was amazing.

To be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

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A Bleak Day on the Saltmarsh

14 Monday Jan 2019

Posted by theresagreen in birds of Wales, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Local Nature Reserves, Nature of Public Places, Nature of Wales, Saltmarsh habitat, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Amber listed birds, Curlew, Glan y Mor Elias Nature Reserve, greenshank, Grey Heron, January, Llanfairfechan, mallard, mute swan, pibydd coeswerdd, redshank, teal, Traeth Lafan, tringa nebularia, tringa totanus, winter

January 5th

Not a great day weather-wise; from my window I could see cloudy grey sky and more than a breeze blowing through the trees. But I hadn’t been out for a proper walk for a while and after a wonderful but hectic family Festive Season I needed fresh air and exercise. And I had a fitness-monitoring, step-counting watch gizmo as a Christmas present that I was keen to try out. Sticking to my resolve to improve my duck recognition skills and knowledge I decided to go back to Llanfairfechan, which would be sure to fulfil the exercise and fresh air part and would hopefully have birds too. My target ducks for the day were to be Teal and I was hoping to improve on the photographs I took at RSPB Conwy a few days ago.

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.”

13:20 The car temperature gauge read 7°, and minded by Alfred Wainwright’s famous quote, I’d put on extra layers in anticipation of the cold, but a stiff breeze made the air that greeted me in the almost-deserted car park feel bitter: and worse, the café was closed! So no tea to thaw out with when I got back. For birds though, it has to be business as usual or starve, so there were the usual Mallards on the river and a few more on the grass; they and the Jackdaws were looking rather disappointed by the lack of human-donated titbits.

13:21 The Swan family was out sailing on the wind-rippled model boating lake.

The cygnets, if you can still call them that when almost fully-grown, are definitely no longer Ugly Ducklings, they have the size and grace of the adults and are turning white to differing degrees, which I guess must relate to the order they hatched in. They too are used to having food thrown to them by visitors and travelled towards me hopefully. I had nothing to offer even though they posed nicely for photographs.

Mute Swan – Cygnus olor

13:28 It felt cold there, but out from the shelter of the trees at the side of the lake the effects of the wind blowing into my face, it got worse. I met a few hardy souls making their way back, mostly dog walkers braving the elements for the love of their pets, but I almost had the place to myself.

1330: The tide was out but there were a few waders out on the sand close enough to see; a Black-headed gull, an Oystercatcher and a Redshank.

13:41 I reached the corner where the stand of trees gave a smidgen of shelter from the icy blast and stopped for a couple of minutes to look at the pine trees. They are very exposed to the elements here, but in the main they stand straight and tall and look to be a good age.

I think they are Monterey Pines – Pinus radiata, an introduced species originating from California that is probably the most widely planted tree in the world. It is characterised by having branches that radiate out from its trunk, hence radiata. The trees often has conspicuous cones that may fall or that sometimes remain on the tree for years. I must look for cones another day.

13:44 As always, the view over the slate-fenced green field dotted with sheep, with the hills and mountains beyond was beautiful, even on a dull cloudy day like today.

13:45 At the end of the Promenade I stopped again to take in the vastness of the view across the Menai Straits to the dark blue coastline of Anglesey.

 A lone Curlew stalking through shallow water seemed small and vulnerable out there on the expanse of sand, emphasising the bleakness of the day.

13:49 In the rough grass on the other side of the wire fence a small flock of lively Starlings were foraging and bickering amongst themselves as Starlings do.

Apart from the cheery Starlings, my first impression was that the saltmarsh was peaceful – and empty! The great flocks of Wigeon that were here a month ago are gone. I guess they’d exhausted the available food supply here and that most of them will have moved inland to fresh pastures. I’m so glad I got to see them while they were here and with luck thought there may still be a few remaining here to see.

Redshank

13:50 A Redshank, its bill half-covered with mud stood motionless nearby. It must be hard work for birds to find enough food to stay warm, let alone mobile on cold days like this.

13:51 As I said, my target ducks for today were Teal and I was starting to think they too had gone along with the Wigeon; then I spotted a pair swimming together along a water-filled channel. Against the background of the textured water surface they were a pretty sight and may have made a pretty picture if the light had been kinder. But at least I’d seen some and there could be more out there sheltering from the weather.

Teal drake & duck

13:52 Scanning along the channel for more ducks – I actually had binoculars with me today- I caught sight of a Grey Heron standing with its shoulders hunched up and its back turned to a stand of reeds. It was some distance away; in this picture showing the channel the Teal were swimming in, it’s the tiny grey dot on the right hand side, other side of the water just above centre and about an inch in!


It looked miserable; it’s plumage ragged and blowing in the wind and wings folded around itself like a cloak.Grey Heron – Ardea cinerea

I was distracted by some frantic and noisy wing-flapping coming from the muddy bank nearer to me. I felt a moment of dread, half-expecting to see a duck having been seized as prey by something, but it turned out to be Starlings who were dipping  into the water and flapping themselves dry. I couldn’t help thinking they must be hardy little migrants from Russia or Scandinavia or somewhere similarly cold, that water must be icy.

When the tide is out water drains back out of channels exposing the soft mud at the bottom.

13:59 – Thus far I’d not had much luck seeing birds, so I was more than happy to see another Redshank foraging on the side of an empty channel.

I’d rounded the bend in the track and was heading towards the Reserve boundary. The railway line runs through the middle of the photograph below and you can just make out the Expressway (A55) at the base of the mountain.  There were a few Mallards sitting on the edge of a muddy peninsular, more were sheltering below against the bank at the water’s edge.

Three more were hunkered down on top of a gravelly bank with their backs to the wind.

14:05 I’m happy to spot a pair of Teal resting on a muddy beach on the other side of the little peninsular where the Mallards sat.

A bit further along, higher up the bank I found some more.

The little flock was quite spread out, I counted about twenty that were visible, but there could well have been more nearby and further back.

14:08 A pair headed into the water, disturbing a bird already there that otherwise I may well not have seen. I thought for a minute that it may fly off before I’d had a chance to have a proper look, but it just gathered itself together and carried on stalking and scanning the shallow water for potential food.

Apart from having been engaged by the Teal flock, it’s not surprising I hadn’t spotted the wading bird by myself. The light was dull, the water grey, the mud a greyish-brown and the bird merged into all perfectly. I wasn’t holding out much hope of getting any really good images, but my thinking is that when you’re looking at a bird you don’t immediately recognise, take as many shots as you can and chances are some will be good enough to at least confirm an identification and serve as a record.

Greenshank – Tringa nebularia

As it happened I’d worked out what I thought it was as I focussed in on it. It must be a Greenshank, which are pictured on the information boards back at the beginning of the walk. This was the closest view I’d ever had of one though, and the first I’ve been able to photograph, but certain features rang bells: an elegant wader; long, slightly upturned bill and long legs that are as its name implies green. Although they looked more grey to me in this light.

The Welsh name for Greenshank is Pibydd Coeswerdd

In the UK Greenshank breed on the wild moorlands of the Scottish Highlands and Islands. In late summer and autumn they move south on migration, stopping to feed in marsh pools, on estuaries and rather less scenically, on sewage farms and are widespread in the south. Only a few birds remain in Britain over winter, mainly on the Irish coasts, so maybe that’s where this one is heading for. It’s not far to Ireland from here. It’s yet another bird on the BTO’s AMBER list because of breeding numbers and winter range declines. 
It’s moments and sights like this that make the effort of going out on days so worth it!

My favourite moment was when it was joined by a Redshank, which suddenly appeared from nowhere. I was so lucky to get the two related birds in the same shot.

Greenshank with Redshank

The bird carried on with its quest for food regardless of much bigger ducks entering the water nearby. I did wonder if they might be helping by stirring up the mud beneath the water and disturbing anything it may eat, like small fish or worms.
And to put the birds into scale and context within the landscape, this view shows the pool of water the birds were in, tiny specks just visible, and the adjacent bank where the Teal were roosting.

I carried on around the path to the other side of Shell Island and stopped just past the front of the bird hide of the Morfa Madryn Reserve. A few Mallards were resting in the rough grass and out on the gravelly sand; the pebbles may be hard but they’re mostly smooth and may have retained some warmth from the day’s scant sunshine. They gave me a focal point for the photograph too – I loved the zig-zag pattern and different shades and textures of the pebbles and grassy ground.

A few more were up and about foraging on the damp sand.

A Crow, that I’d hoped might have been a Raven, but wasn’t, was also hopefully patrolling the sand.

Once again I contemplated carrying on along the Coast Path for a while, but no, it was way too cold and windy for me to derive any joy from that today.

I took the more sheltered path back. On the scrubland gorse is coming into full bloom now, bringing a welcome and cheering touch of gold to the landscape. 

14:28 I had a closer view of the Heron walking this way. It was still in the exact same spot as before. It must have been sleeping.

The path ahead of me was unusually deserted.

Beyond the railway line Penmaenmawr Mountain, looking big, bulky and brooding.

14:45 I love the view across the Traeth. All you can see is the Pavilion, the café building, the Tower House and a stand of dark pine trees.  Promenade I see that there is only one person on the sands with a dog. At this time on a Saturday there would usually be a lot more. 

14:53  There were a few more birds to see on the way back; Oystercatchers, a Redshank, a Curlew and Black-headed Gulls out on the sand; and on the field side of the path a Chaffinch up in an ash tree and a Dunnock perched on the barbed wire fence.

I didn’t linger to look again at the Swans and other collected ducks and birds that were now gathered on and around the lake. I did wish the café had been open though.

Sightings for the afternoon: Grey Heron; Little Egret; Mute Swans; Teal; Mallard; Khaki Campbell; Oystercatcher; Greenshank; Redshank; Curlew; Black-headed gull; Herring gull; Carrion Crow; Starling; Dunnock

Not too many species today, but what was lacking in quantity was made up for with quality; the Greenshank was a real treat!

Oh, and I logged about 7.300 steps.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Wigeon in Winter

11 Friday Jan 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Coastal Snowdonia, Local Nature Reserves, Nature of Public Places, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Saltmarsh habitat, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

anas penelope, bird behaviour, ducks and geese, Glan y Mor Elias Nature Reserve, Llanfairfechan, maraca penelope, overwintering birds, wigeon

Wigeon are generally known as winter visitors to the UK, although in some places, mainly in Scotland and the north of England, some are established as resident breeders. The birds begin to arrive back in their wintering grounds in the British Isles as early as September. The influx continues through October and November and by December the BTO estimate that they number around 440,000 birds. They gather in spectacular vast flocks mainly in coastal locations, moving inland at dusk to crop the grass in fields and meadows, but some winter inland, in flooded districts and on large lakes and reservoirs. Highly gregarious birds; flocks of Wigeon hundreds strong rest by day on estuaries and mud-flats.

November- Large flocks of Wigeon gathered to graze on the salt-marsh at Llanfairfechan

Wigeon – Maraca penelope (previously Anas penelope) Welsh: Chwiwell

Length: 48 cm: Wingspan: 80 cm: Weight: M: 800 g F: 650 g

Wigeon drake

The Wigeon drake is one of our most handsome ducks. Medium-sized and distinctively shaped, the head is dark chestnut with a wide creamy yellow stripe extending from the base of his short blue-grey bill upwards between the eyes to the crown of his head. The body is softly patterned grey, the chest pinkish-brown, the underbelly is white and the rear end a contrast of black and white. The wings are pointed and in flight he reveals white shoulders and green wing patches. In eclipse plumage (June-October/November), the male resembles a dark female, but with the white forewing. Immature males lack the white shoulders of the adult.

Wigeon duck

Similarly distinctively shaped, females are more subtly attractive, being more uniformly brown than females of other species. They are slimmer and have a more pointed tail than a female Mallard. As the male, they have a high forehead, but the head is a darker chocolate brown and the bill, still blueish, is smaller than the drake’s. Her back is patterned brown, she has a greyish-green wing patch visible in flight and a white belly.

Immature males lack the white shoulders of the adult

 

Wigeon are lively birds and the whistling of the drakes and low growling, or “purring” of the ducks, which don’t quack as other species do can often be heard when several birds are together.

181102-wigeon 7

DIET

Wigeon are classified as dabbling ducks and are closely related to Mallards, Shovelers, Garganey, Gadwall, Pintail and Teal. But they are unusual amongst ducks as they spend much of their time out of the water, where they graze in waterside grassy areas, rather like geese. Wholly vegetarian, their diet consists mostly of leaves, shoots, rhizomes and also some seeds, which seem to be what those in the photographs above and below are stripping from the grass stems.

Wigeon grazing on grass

The ducks do spend time in the water where they also feed on waterweed, occasionally dipping ‘bottom’s up’ as their cousins do.

Wigeon male, female & juvenile

BREEDING

The first Wigeon’s nest found in the UK was in 1834, in Sunderland. During the early 1900s Wigeon were expanding as a resident breeding British species, but by the late 1960s this came to a halt and there was then no regular breeding south of Yorkshire. The habitats they favour for breeding are lochs, rivers and marshes, especially those in wooded countryside, although they do occasionally nest on coastal marshes. The BTO estimate there may be somewhere in the region of 400 breeding pairs, mainly in Scotland and northern England. Their habitual breeding grounds are in the far north, in Iceland and throughout a wide Arctic and sub-Arctic belt that runs west from Norway across Asia to the Bering Strait.

ETYMOLOGY

The scientific name for the Wigeon as given by the BTO is now Mareco penelope (prev.Anas penelope) The more recent name derives from both Brazilian Portuguese: marréco=a (small) duck and Greek: penelops=a type of duck. The RSPB and bird books show the previous scientific name of Anas penelope.

Wigeon have been recorded in the British Isles since the Mediaeval times of the 16th century. According to the eminent language expert Professor Walter William Skeat, the name was then spelt “Wigion”. In 1767 Gilbert White in his History of Selbourne recorded seeing “multitudes of Widgeon and Teals (which) in hard weather frequent our lakes in the forest“. It is still referred to as “Widgeon” in one of my old nature books that was copyrighted in 1934. In another which is not dated, but titled “Birds of our Country & of the Dominions, Colonies and Dependencies” that must be of a similar age, the author refers to it as Common Wigeon. These days it is commonly known simply as Wigeon, or as Eurasian Wigeon.

Cream head stripe may have given rise to old name of bald pate

The Old English names are much more fun and evocative, most of them originating in Norfolk and the East of England or in Northumberland where historically the birds have wintered in their thousands.     Whew; Whim; Whewer and variations of these such as Pundle-whim and Pandled Whew, are all thought to have come about from the bird’s whistling call. “Whim” equates to whistle, as in the name of the Whimbrel, which translates as Seven Whistlers. I think the Welsh “Chwiwell” also derives from the bird’s musical call. A “pandle” or “pundle”, is a winkle, which it was thought the ducks collected as they fed on bottom-living water plants.

Another old name is “bald pate”, referring to the broad cream crown stripe and “lady fowl” – I’m not sure about that one!

DUCK HUNTING & CONSERVATION STATUS

The collective name for a flock of Wigeon is a Bunch.

Wigeon have long been hunted for eating. I read that historically, Wigeon were easy prey for wildfowlers, which may be why in the 18th Century the name also came to be used for a stupid person. They may not have always been the first choice of the hunters as according to my trusty “Birds of our Country & of the Dominions, Colonies and Dependencies” – They are not the nicest to eat, for they sometimes have an unpleasant fishy taste, although at other times they may be excellent. As with Wild Geese, which are always very ‘fishy’ when they first arrive but rapidly improve upon a diet of British greenstuff, the flavour of the Wigeon varies with its food. 

That prompted me to research current legislation on the hunting of wildfowl and learned that within the designated shooting season, Sep 1 – Feb 20 in England, Wales, Scotland & Northern Ireland, it is legal to shoot Wigeon. I was surprised to see that: I naively assumed that birds’ with an Amber conservation status, which Wigeon have as a species with declining numbers, that they would automatically be protected. Clearly not. It is also permitted to shoot Gadwall, Goldeneye, Mallard, Pintail, Pochard, Shoveler, Teal and Tufted duck. I knew shooting Mallard, the classic Wild Duck, was approved and had my suspicions about Teal, but as for the rest, how does that fit with our horror at our European neighbours that shoot other migrating species of birds? I don’t suppose anyone knows how many ducks are shot in the wild each season, but game shooting is becoming an increasingly popular sport and without its feathers, who knows what you might be eating in a trendy restaurant with Wild Duck on the menu?

Conservation Status of Wigeon: (BTO)
UK: AMBER because Recent Breeding Population Decline (1981-2007), Recent Winter Population Decline (1981-2007), Recent Breeding Range Decline (1981-2010), Recent Winter Range Decline (1981-2010), Important Non-breeding Population
Previous Assessments: 2009-2014 AMBER 2002-2007 AMBER 1996-2001 AMBER

European: Least Concern Global: Least Concern

 

 

 

 

 

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Winter Waterbirds

03 Thursday Jan 2019

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Coastal Snowdonia, Nature of Wales, RSPB Reserves, Wales Coast Path, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Conwy castle, Conwy estuary, December, ducks and geese, estuary-side habitat, gadwall, goldeneye, Lapwing, little egret, RSPB Conwy, teal

31st December 2018-Conwy RSPB Reserve 

Location:  Llandudno Junction Postcode: LL31 9XZ
Grid ref:  SH797773

Located on the eastern side of the Estuary of the river Conwy, this reserve is a perfect example of how a once industrial site can be reclaimed by and for nature. The reserve  was created in the early 1990s from material dug out from the estuary during the construction of the A55 road tunnel that passes under the River Conwy to bypass the historic town of Conwy. The reserve also incorporates mudflats and saltmarsh, part of the Afon Conwy SSSI, important for migratory waders including curlew, oystercatcher and redshank.

Conwy Castle

I was meeting up with friends this morning and arrived a few minutes early, so I pulled into the parking area in front of the estuary to admire the views across and along the sands and mudflats of the estuary of the River Conwy. This is the eastern side of the estuary, so firstly looking north there are perfect views of Conwy Castle and town with Conwy Mountain behind it.

Most of the land on the opposite western side of the estuary is within Snowdonia National Park. To the south is the town of Glan Conwy.

 

 

A Pied Wagtail scuttling over a patch of lime chippings was my first bird of the day.

 

 

A flock of metal Lapwing adorn the entrance to the Reserve

As you enter the Reserve there is a man-made mound in front of you that acts as a vantage point from which to get an overview of the site. Circular walks have been created that pass through a variety of habitats such as reedbed, young woodland, grassland and scrub.

There are two lagoons, originally created to hold the sludge from the tunnel excavations; one holds shallow water while the other is much deeper, both of which attract waders and waterbirds, especially from August to March. The lagoons are filled with fresh, not tidal water and are dependant on winter rains to fill them. If they ever need to be topped up, water is taken directly from the nearby river, the Afon Ganol. Islands have been created within them providing havens for roosting and nesting birds. These are best for birds at high tide, when the river covers the mudflats pushing waders to roost and feed on the islands.

At low tide, as now, there are not as many birds to see as there may be when the tide floods back into the estuary, but our first sighting gave me another duck species to add to my list of ones I might recognise when I see them again. We worked out these were a pair of Gadwall, which are quite understated in their appearance, not colourful or flashy, but quite common so likely to be seen again.

Gadwall-Hwyaden Lwyd

11:19-The sun shining through a break in the clouds momentarily created a darkly dramatic, almost monochromatic view of the lagoon and the distant mountains.

We moved on and followed the boardwalk that wends through the reedbeds. Water Rail are resident here and sighted fairly frequently, so we were listening out for their distinctive calls, but all was quiet. We admired the surroundings instead; the dried reed stems glowing golden in the sunlight and reflected in the clear water of the well-filled pools are a beautiful sight.

11:19- A Coot cuts purposefully across the wind-rippled surface of the lagoon temporarily disrupting its pattern.

11:21- A pair of Mallard occupy on the end of a grassy island, the male standing watchfully over the resting female.

Mallard – Hywaden Wyllt

11:29 A Mute Swan glides across the water, wings raised.

11:30- A minute later the peace is shattered as another suddenly rears up in the water with a great deal of splashing and drama and sets off in pursuit of it.

The first Swan turned and travelled away as quickly as it could towards a narrow grassy island, the other in close pursuit and catching up just as it reached the edge of the spit of land.

The pursuer heaved himself from the water and on top of the other, which we now realised must be a female, his weight almost forcing her beneath the water as he positioned himself to mate. Mute Swans mate for life, so we couldn’t be sure if this was consensual or whether the female had been trying to escape or hoping to get onto the firmer ground of the island or just the shallower water at the edge of the island before she was caught. Either way it didn’t look like much fun for her.
Although it all took place in little more than a minute or so, the activity attracted the interest of another individual who sailed up close to the mating pair, its wings raised.

The mating male turned to face the intruder, rearing himself up with the poor female still pinned beneath him and the other mirroring the movement, stretching its neck up towards the other.

Was this a victory display?

Goldeneye (m)

Whilst all this had been going on a black and white duck had been unconcernedly carrying on with the business of searching for food nearby. It was tricky to follow as it spent much of its time below the surface, bobbing up only briefly before dipping down again. I managed only one quick snap of it, fortunately good enough to be identified later on by one of the staff volunteers as a male Goldeneye.

He also identified another mostly brown duck that had been behaving similarly in the water in front of the hide, as a female Tufted Duck.

Tufted Duck- Hywaden Gopog

Another Coot

11:38 – We got back out onto the path and turned off to head towards the eastern edge of the Reserve as indicated by the Magpie that landed on the signpost.

 

A short way up the path we spent a few minutes being completely charmed by a close encounter with an exceptionally confiding Robin. He, or she, sat on the tip of a bramble stem at the edge of the path, tilting its head to look at us. I think if we had been able to offer it food it may have come to a hand to be fed.

 

A grounded giant dragonfly

We reached the gate that gives access to the fenced area of wilder scrub vegetation.

This path leads to the Estuary edge.

To the left of the path in a dyke below us, a small party of Teal travelled slowly upstream, stopping frequently to feed.

The bright light and shadows weren’t helpful in showing off the real beauty of the little male, so you’ll have to trust me when I say he was looking splendid in his bright breeding colours.

The female may be brown, but she has her own subtle beauty in her brown-shaded plumage, with each of her feathers edged with white.   

A trail of freshly deposited poo on the path finally led us to the Carneddau mountain ponies that roam the southern section of the reserve where they graze down unwanted vegetation. They will happily munch on brambles, reeds and rushes as well as grass,  which they keep short creating the habitat needed by a wide variety of wildlife.

The sun came out again as we got to this spot, lighting up the Castle and Conwy Mountain behind it.

The bright sunlight also rendered birds feeding on the Estuary mud as silhouettes, most of their colour hidden in shadow. Shelduck are distinctive in size and shape though, and in the way they dip their heads to ‘hoover’ the ground in front of them.

181231-1205-RSPBCWY-50-Shelduck
181231-1208-RSPBCWY-52-Shelduck

The Shelducks were behind a large flock of foraging Redshank. The buildings in the background are in the village of Glan Conwy.

There were more along the edges of a channel of water

A few higher up on the bank made it possible to distinguish their diagnostic orange-red legs.

A solitary Little Egret stood stock still on the mud gazing intently out over the Estuary. Perhaps waiting for the tide to turn and bring in fresh food.

A surprise was this large patch of Sow-thistle in lush green leaf and in full bloom.

A view back into the reserve gave us Canada Geese, Mallard and a Goldeneye male, maybe the same one we saw earlier.

And on a narrow rock-strewn island in front of a hide, one of the iconic birds of the reserve, Lapwings.

They were too distant from where we stood to see them well, but just a few moments later as we continued to walk, something had disturbed them and the whole flock was up in the air.

There is another bird visible in the photograph, but it’s too small and distant to make out whether that could have caused the disturbance. Whatever the cause, a flock of Lapwing flying is always a lovely sight and particularly so today as the sunshine caught the white undersides of their wings turning them silver. Mesmerising.

Back down to earth and a much less glamorous sighting of a Dunnock gave us our final sighting. It had fluttered in front of us, giving the impression of something a bit more exotic – we’d been keeping an eye out for Brambling – but it was a nice sighting none the less and didn’t let us stopping to stare at it put it off having a little snooze in the sun.

181231-1228-RSPBCWY-73-Dunnock