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Tag Archives: chough

The Place for Wheatears,Pipits & Chough

08 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by theresagreen in Birds, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Great Orme, Nature of Wales, The Wales Coast Path, Wildlife of the Wales Coast Path

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

birds on migration, chough, Greenland race of wheatear, meadow pipit, Northern Wheatear, Oryctolagus cuniculus, Pyrrhocorax, rabbit, Red-billed chough

April 25th – Great Orme 

A bright sunny morning prompted me to leave early for the Great Orme today, giving myself time to walk at least part of the way up to the summit and arrive on time to do my shift in the Wildlife Trust shop. Bearing in mind that wherever I walked up from I would have to walk back down to later on, regardless of what the weather may be doing by then, I decided to park in the layby just beyond St. Tudno’s Church. It was much fresher up here, still sunny and clear but a strong breeze made it feel cool.

view from half-way up looking down onto St Tudno’s church

13:05 From here at the bottom of the steep slope, there are obvious short-cropped grass trails that lead off in various directions including up to the cable car station and the Summit Complex, where I was heading. Walking at a good speed it may take 10 minutes to get up to the top if you’re reasonably fit, or a bit longer if you stop to admire the views behind you or need to stop for breath on the steepest part nearer the top. Of course you all expect by now that I would take longer, as I would inevitably find things of interest that I would need to stop and photograph.

Either side of the tracks the hillside is lumpy and bumpy, with hillocks and hollows clothed with long tussocky grass and bushes of dwarf gorse; perfect terrain for the Meadow pipit that I was hoping to see. Birds foraging here are often well concealed, suddenly appearing and disappearing like this Magpie, one of a pair out hunting.

Sometimes they leave flying off until you’re almost on top of them, as this Jackdaw did.

Fond as I am of the Corvids, the unexpected sight of this elegant male Northern Wheatear was a lot more exciting.

Northern Wheatear-Oenanthe oenanthe- Welsh: Tinwen y Garn

and the excitement was doubled when a more softly plumaged female popped up onto the top of a hillock.

Absorbed with the female wheatear a distance away, a Meadow pipit popping up onto a hummock close by me took me by surprise, but a sighting at last and some photographs! It was hunting and I was pleased to get a pic of it with an insect in its beak.

Meadow pipits, in common with the majority of basically brown birds don’t get much of a write-up in the bird books. They’re mostly described as something like ” a small, brown, streaky bird, the most common songbird in upland areas, where it’s high piping call is a familiar sound’. Perhaps because of their lack of glamour we take them too much for granted, as according to the RSPB, ‘Meadow pipit numbers in the UK have been declining since the mid-1970s, resulting in this species being included on the amber list of conservation concern.’

Meadow Pipit- Anthus pratensis- Welsh-Corhedydd y Waun

Meadow pipit with insect

It’s strange that we  give such high praise to the similar-looking Skylark and the not-dissimilar Song Thrush and are so dismissive of the pipits. Is the bias based on the fact that the latter sing delightfully and pipits not so much? For sure our hills and uplands would be lonely without them, so perhaps we could appreciate them more and enjoy them at every opportunity.

There are little wildflower treats hidden down in the grass like this pretty violet.

13:25 As usual I’d been led astray by the birds and had to put a spurt on and get to the top in time to start my ‘shift’. As I said earlier it was breezy on this side of the Orme, but crossing the top and starting down the other side I was suddenly fighting to make progress against a continuous very strong head wind! Checking the wind gauge inside the visitor centre it indicated it was blowing in from a North-north westerly direction, so it felt cold too despite the sunshine. I anticipated selling more hats and gloves!

4:50 Finished for the day I retraced my steps along the trail back down towards where I left my car. On my own time now I was free to take my time and paused to admire the view over towards the Little Orme and beyond. The post tells you that this is the way to The Town (Llandudno).

A closer view of the Little Orme shows its intact, non-quarried side which was deliberately preserved to present a much prettier view to visitors and residents of Llandudno.

A little further on there is an interpretation panel that reminds you that this is the ‘Historic Trail’ and informs that 800 years ago you would have been looking down onto one of perhaps three villages established on the Orme, whose inhabitants would have grown crops and raised animals to eat or trade. I was hoping the wheatears may still be around and I was in luck – I soon spotted a female.

The sun was lower now, creating shadows and highlights and the wind, stronger now, rippled across the long silvered grass, creating a magical almost alien landscape. In amongst it I realised there were more Wheatears, another three birds.

All Wheatears spend winter in tropical Africa, heading northwards via Spain in the spring. Those that breed in the British Isles sometimes arrive on our coast as early as late February, but mainly during March, with males arriving ahead of females. They move inland to  breed.

GREENLAND WHEATEAR

It is possible that the birds I saw here today belong to another race, known as the Greenland wheatear, which arrives a little later in April. Many wheatears make a refuelling stopover in North Africa, but as the Greenland wheatears fly furthest, they need to put on more fat before leaving and spend longer at stopovers. They have a long journey ahead to their breeding sites on the other side of the Atlantic. From Britain they fly northwest across the sea, via Iceland, until they reach the Arctic tundra of Greenland and northern Canada. By June they will have started to breed there.

Wheatear & Meadow pipit

Whichever they were I was appreciating some lovely views of the two males and two females foraging together in the long grass, using the little hillocks as look-out platforms to survey the ground around them for likely prey.

Female wheatear

Then a distraction; a black bird flew in that I may have dismissed as a Jackdaw had it not called out. This was a Chough. It had landed somewhere behind a particularly hillocky part of the hillside, which is also pitted with well-disguised sunken craters. You have to watch your footing if you risk going off the proper trails.

Landscape pitted with sunken craters

I walked carefully until I spotted the bird, almost up to its beak in the long grass.

It had its back to me, eventually turning enough to show its diagnostic curved bill and legs, these are bright red in an adult bird, but this was a juvenile so it hasn’t quite got that far yet and its are more of a dull orange colour.

Chough, Red-billed chough – Pyrrhocorax

It didn’t stay for long before taking off, but it’s always a treat to see them at all, especially this closely.

Making my way back to the main track I noticed this rock, a little island rising out of a sea of grass and heather, it was almost totally encrusted with white lichen and embellished with mosses.

There was a lovely patch of violets growing in a grass-lined crater too.

I spotted two Wheatears perched on the top of a gorse bush; a male and a female. The birds spend most of their time on the ground, travelling in hops or runs on the ground, so it’s quite unusual to see them perched up higher.

I couldn’t have asked for a prettier picture than a handsome male Wheatear perched amongst golden-flowered gorse.

I liked the two images below too; perfect records of the birds’ exact location!

180425-GO-1709-Female wheatear on post
180425-GO-1709-Male wheatear next to post

Two males together on the short turf of the trail

And one last image of a nicely posed one on his own.

17:16 Walking on down I spotted three bunnies on high alert, in poses that could have come straight out of Watership Down.

Rabbit-Oryctolagus cuniculus

 

 

But then I saw the new Peter Rabbit film during the Easter holiday too and thought this one, which I think may be the ‘big bunny’ of a previous post, may have seen it too – he’s got Peter’s pose to a ‘T’.

 

 

180425-GO-1716-Bunny 1
180425-GO-1716-Bunny3

And wouldn’t you know? After all my efforts to find a Meadow pipit, there was one posing on a rock almost in front of my parked car!

It flew down to the ground and looked back over its shoulder at me as if to say

“what kept you? I’ve been here for hours waiting for you!”

It allowed me a couple of photographs, then took off, leaving a lone Jackdaw to patrol the layby edge for his supper.

On the way down I had to stop just past the church as these little Goldfinches fluttered down onto the bare ground of a bank where they must have spotted food potential.

180425-GO-1730-Goldfinches on bank past church 1
180425-GO-1730-Goldfinches on bank past church

The views were stunning as always; good today as the mountains were more clearly visible than usual and the clouds above added to their drama.

17:45 The view of the Conwy Estuary was stunning too, the sun was hitting the castle perfectly so it stood out from the trees, you can clearly see the road bridge that takes you across the river to the town and there were boats on the water….. the perfect scene for a painting.

The view of the sea meeting West Shore wasn’t bad either.

 

 

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Little Orme Level 1

12 Monday Jun 2017

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, calcareous grassland, coastal walks, coastal wildflowers, Little Orme, Local Nature Reserves, Nature of Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

chough, Cormorant, jackdaw, nomad bees, Nomada goodeniana, raven

May 27th

The Little Orme was physically scarred and shaped by human demands and quarrying activities during the first half of the last century. Subsequently handed back to nature and a testiment to its incredible ability to regenerate, an interlocking patchwork of habitats packed into a compact space on varying levels have become a haven for a diversity of wildlife, particularly wildflowers, birds and insects. Now in part a Local Nature Reserve with areas set aside as SSSIs, its wildlife may again be under pressure as the headland is an increasingly popular recreational area for local people and visitors and is also crossed by walkers following the Wales Coastal Path or the North Wales Coast Path. 

I was here today with the intention of taking some photographs of the Cormorant colony in mind. The birds are well into their breeding season now and have well-grown offspring in their nests and I wanted to catch them there before they fledged. I thought I was focussed on the job in hand, but as anyone that has ever been out walking with me would have guessed, it took less than two minutes for me to be distracted from my mission; firstly by a Harlequin ladybird guzzling aphids on the going-to-seed Alexanders, then by a lovely shiny metallic green female Swollen-thighed Beetle – Oedemera nobilis, who confusingly doesn’t have Swollen thighs at all, it’s the males that sport them as emblems of their maleness, the thicker the better in their bid to secure mates. She was perfectly displayed in the cup of a perfect dog rose, like a little jewel.

Harlequin ladybird on Alexanders
Harlequin ladybird on Alexanders
Thick-thighed beetle (f)
Thick-thighed beetle (f)

The cliff path along to Angel Bay took a while to negotiate too. Its sea edge is lined with masses of Red Valerian in all of its shades from deep carmine through pinks to white and it looks lovely.

I know it’s not a native and crops up anywhere and everywhere, but here it doesn’t look out of place and it is great for insects like the Painted Lady I found nectaring there.

Painted Lady on red valerian
Painted Lady on red valerian
Small White (f) on valerian leaves
Small White (f) on valerian leaves
Buff-tailed bumblebee on valerian
Buff-tailed bumblebee on valerian

There are native wildflowers on this cliff edge too, including some good sized patches of Wild Thyme and the pretty pale lemon-yellow Mouse-ear which has colonised a large patch of the crumbly downslope of the cliff.

Wild thyme
Wild thyme
Mouse-ear Hawkweed
Mouse-ear Hawkweed

There’s a lot of Horsetail here too, I’m not sure of the species. It also cascades down the cliff where it looks a bit like a new plantation of tiny Christmas trees. A bit further in from the edge was a large patch of what I thought was Ground Ivy, but am now not sure about; very short-stemmed here on the dry exposed cliff and a mass of purple flowers, I will go back and check.

Horsetail
Horsetail
Ground Ivy
Ground Ivy

The Little Orme is the place to visit if you love your Corvids as I do. Ravens, Crows, Magpies, Jackdaws and occasionally Chough are all here. Seeing or even hearing ravens early on in a visit here always sets the mood for me, reminding me that despite the fact that this is now a place much used for recreation by people and their pets, it is still clinging on as a wild habitat. A pair flew overhead, ‘gronking’ as they did so and landed high up on the edge of the cliff, in the centre of the image above, one of their habitual lookouts for surveying their Kingdom.

Next a Magpie caught my attention as it landed on a bramble patch on the cliff edge, leaving quickly with an insect in its beak.

Then Jackdaws, great numbers of them nest in close colonies on the quarried-out cliff faces. Once breeding is over they disperse during the day, although plenty stay and forage around the grassy clifftops and it’s a safe haven to head back to and roost at night.

Jackdaw amongst bird’s-foot trefoil

At the sea end of this first flat level there’s a little bit of original rock remaining, separating Angel Bay from Penrhyn Bay and forming one side of the little cove that is the haven of the Grey Seals often mentioned in my posts. The sea-facing ledge behind said rock can be a good place to look out for birds at sea, especially in the autumn and winter, but today it was bees I found there. I have to admit I thought they were wasps as there were several that were flying around, and once or twice, in and out of holes made by mining bees. A quick check with the wise ones at BWARS (Bee,Wasp & Ant Recording Society) though, told me they are nomad bees, Nomada goodeniana, that seek out other bee’s nests in which to lay their eggs. They are apparently quite a common species, but a first for me.

Nomada goodeniana
Nomada goodeniana
Nomada goodeniana
Nomada goodeniana

A local speciality (botanically that is, not on menus!), Wild cabbage grows here, there have been bluebells on the cliff slopes and I spotted the bees as I stopped to photograph a pretty Bloody Cranesbill flower.

Wild cabbage
Wild cabbage
Bloody Cranesbill
Bloody Cranesbill

Looking out over the cove, there were just a couple of seals in the water and a sizeable gang of cormorants perched up at the sea end of the headland.

 

The sight of those Cormorants spurred me on to get back on track towards their nesting site. But first a stop to admire the Thrift, perhaps my favourite coastal wildflower which despite all the hazards is thriving here.

I am finally almost at the bottom of the steep slope up to the next level of the old quarry. I was following the sound of a Whitethroat singing when from close by a black bird took off and flew away from me back in the direction of the site entrance. Something in its gis made me watch carefully to see where it would land; its upturned wingtips showed this wasn’t a crow or a jackdaw and then that distinctive call confirmed I was chasing a Chough.

Chough fly with upturned wing tips

It landed a short distance away and set about digging in the short turfy ground in pursuit of food with its long curved bill. It was a ringed bird, banded on both legs, but perhaps not quite an adult as its beak was a dark orange colour rather than the bright red of a mature adult.

Chough eat worms, caterpillars, ants and are particularly partial to the larvae of dung beetles

The bird had picked a productive spot and was so settled into its feeding it took no notice of me sitting watching it from a conveniently sited bench. But foraging close to the junction of two of the main tracks across the clifftop it was inevitable that it would be disturbed sooner rather than later, and so it was, taking off and flying off over the sea and around the headland. That was definitely my best ever Chough encounter here in North Wales; certainly the closest. And I would have missed it if it wasn’t for my slow- walking meandering habit.

Next Level of this trail to follow shortly…. there will be Cormorants!

 

 

 

 

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Sights and Sounds from the Little Orme 1

03 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by theresagreen in Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, The Wales Coast Path

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

blackbird, chough, Great tit singing, grey seals, grey seals from the Little Orme, grey seals in Angel Bay, grey seals mating behaviour, phalocrocorax aristotelis, raven, Robin, shag

January 20th – Little Orme, lower level

When the first sound I hear on my approach to the Little Orme is that of a Raven gronking, I take it as an omen that this is going to be a good walk! And so it was today – the old Raven perched high on the edge of the cliff, proclaiming his territorial rights, his distinctive call echoing off the surrounding rock. As yet there were no signs of Fulmars having returned to begin claiming nesting spots on the cliff below him. Notoriously noisy, they too would have been heard before being seen for sure.

170120-lo-11-great-tit-singing-2

Ears being more effective than eyes on this bright winter afternoon, I heard birdsong emanating from a small nearby tree. I didn’t recognise the song at first and with sun shining directly into my eyes, it took a couple of minutes for me to recognise that the singer was a Great tit. I edged slowly towards him, circling to try to reach a point where the sun was less blinding, expecting him to spot me and take off any second, but he was confident and intent on his purpose and chose  to ignore me. I was delighted, I don’t recall ever being this close to a singing Great tit before and was impressed by his tuneful renderings.

He was indeed handsome and as the test of a male Great tit’s virility is displayed in the strength of the black markings that run from his throat to his nether regions, this one looks like he’d be quite a catch.

170120-lo-12-blackbird-1

The ground here was frosted and in shaded places the grass was crunchy underfoot, but a pair of blackbirds, feathers fluffed out against the cold had found a more insulated mossy spot and were out hunting worms. I wasn’t sure if the female was deliberately collecting nesting material or if I’d disturbed her whilst probing and the grass had stuck to her bill.

170120-lo-19-blackbird-f-with-grass-in-beak-1

Close by a Robin was singing quietly, almost to itself as it perched low and spied, head cocked, for insect movements on the ground below.

170120-lo-16-robin-singing-quietly-1

170120-lo-17-robin-on-the-ground-1

Reaching the cliff edge which overlooks Penrhyn Bay, all I spied was a distant single cormorant. (Well, I assumed it was a cormorant, but a sharp-eyed friend pointed out it was actually a Shag – so really happy about that as I see far fewer of them.)

170120-lo-2-cormorant-1a

A closer look shows the Shag has a narrow bill and a steeper forehead than a Cormorant and also lacks the white cheeks patches of the latter. A lesson learned, I will look closer in the future and not make assumptions!

170120-lo-2-shag-on-rock

Sitting atop the rocky mound that forms one edge of Angel Bay were a pair of large black birds. One had his back to me, looking out to sea – Ravens, surely? As I approached they flew down almost to the base of the rock.

170120-lo-24-crow-2-shadow-1

Feathers gleaming with shades of purple and green they are magnificent birds, but you wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that enormous dagger-like bill.

170120-lo-26-crow-2-1

As well as local folk, people come here from miles around in the hope of a sighting of the Grey Seals that have claimed Angel Bay as their own. Today I was one of a small crowd of spectators that were given a real treat; there must have been at least 40 of them ranged along the tide-line the whole length of the little cove.

170120-lo-54-looking-down-into-cove-1a

Perfectly camouflaged to blend with the rocks and  pebbles here, it takes a few minutes to get your eye in and work out which shapes are animal and which mineral. I make a total of 20 in the image below.

170120-lo-28-1504-grey-seals-in-angel-bay-30-1a

At first glance there didn’t seem to be much activity other than sleeping going on, but sounds arising and a closer look reveals that here and there things were not entirely tranquil.

170120-lo-36-some-were-vocal-and-maybe-a-little-aggressive-1

170120-lo-60-1519-small-group-with-very-dark-baby-1a

Some see rocks as a sun-warmed resting place

170120-lo-33-grey-seal-poses-1

while to others they are just obstacles to be overcome; going over the top must be easier than getting someone to move.

170120-lo-35-wriggling-over-rocks-1

These two took to the water, they could be a male and a female as one appears smaller than the other.

170120-lo-38-grey-seal-interaction-1a

They started off peacefully enough,

170120-lo-40-grey-seal-interaction-3a

but things soon started to get a bit rough

170120-lo-39-grey-seal-interaction-2a

and developed into what appeared to be a serious display of aggression or power assertion of some kind. ( I wasn’t entirely off-track here, but it has been pointed out that this was quite likely mating behaviour. I thought that mating happened sooner after the birth of the pups.)

170120-lo-47-grey-seal-interaction-8a

Their interaction was quickly dissipated though when several more seals lumbered from the shore, showing  a surprising turn of speed, and entered the water with much deliberate splashing.

170120-lo-46-grey-seal-interaction-7a

Then sped off with purpose, keeping their heads above the water

170120-lo-48-swimming-out-to-kayakers-1

to check out two kayakers that had paddled into the bay. The guys in the boats must have been thrilled to have had a close encounter with at least eight curious seals.

170120-lo-51-checking-out-the-kayakers-1

Back on the shore another pair having a bit of argy-bargy

170120-lo-59-more-interaction-2a

this time more vocal than physical.

170120-lo-58-more-interaction-1a

170120-lo-57-more-interaction-1a

And that is where I left them to get on with their day while I got moving to warm up, with one quick last look over the edge of the cliff from the other side of the bay.

170120-lo-61-last-look-from-higher-up-1a

On the far side of the bay I scanned the cliff for any signs that the Ravens may be re-using the nest site that has been occupied for years. There was nothing I could see, but there were plenty of pairs of Jackdaws that seem to have already claimed or reclaimed holes and ledges on the cliff wall. Jackdaws are so numerous here that a black bird of a certain size usually registers subconsciously as such, but again it was hearing different sounds called by a small group of four black birds flying up that alerted me to the presence of the far less common Chough.

170120-lo-63-1524-chough-at-cliff-base-1a

More wary than the resident Jackdaws, the presence of Chough, probably visiting from the Great Orme that forms the other side of Llandudno Bay, always takes me by surprise and that is my excuse for failing to get a decent photograph! That and the fact they soon spotted me standing out in the open pointing a long lens at them, so they took off and disappeared over the cliff edge. I have seen and photographed the pair below feeding here before, quite distinctive with all their leg bling, but the one above has none yet. Is that because it’s a young one I wonder? Please tell me if you know.

170120-lo-70-jackdaw-at-base-of-cliff

I couldn’t leave this lower level of the reserve without a nod to a Jackdaw, whose home this really is, so snatched this just before a dog followed by its owner sent him off too.

 

 

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Winter treats on the Little Orme

23 Monday Jan 2012

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Little Orme, Nature, nature photography, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

chough, chough in North Wales, flowering gorse, raven, stonechat

10th January - Daisy in the lawn

In common with the rest of Britain, we have experienced a mixed bag of winter weather on the North Wales coast so far this year and last week brought the whole selection together in its 7 day span. There were gale force winds, dull grey overcast days and some clear bright sunny days that darkened into clear night skies  full of brilliant stars. Of  course the clear nights brought forth morning frost and freezing temperatures, but they did not last for long.

Wood pigeon perched on the frosted roof

I usually try to avoid popular local walking spots on high days and holidays, but a need for some quick-fix fresh air and exercise on a cold but sunny Sunday afternoon found me heading for the nearby nature reserve on the headland of the Little Orme. When I first arrived I was pleasantly surprised by how few other people were there and set off towards the cliff edge to look out across the small bay. There were a few cormorants flying back and forth with a few more diving off the  tip of the headland. I watched a pair of fulmar flying around close to the cliff face, but that was it for sea birds; even the gulls were otherwise occupied elsewhere.

I turned around to walk back and heard the distinctive ‘barking’ call of a raven that I tracked to the top of the rockface. The bird was perched, hunched down with its head and neck pointed upwards and with its feathers bristling out around  its body. At that point I couldn’t see any other birds around that may have been provoking its behaviour, but a little later I heard it calling again from the cliff edge slightly further inland and looked up to see two buzzards circling closely above it, so maybe they were the objects of his annoyance.

Disgruntled raven

I already mentioned that this was a sunny day, but not yet that the sky was blue and – wait for it – so was the sea. One of the things I had come out hoping to photograph was gorse in bloom and luckily there were several bushes with flowers, but this picture of sunshine-golden gorse against a background of a blue Irish Sea had to be the one I included. It reminded me so much of Spain – apart from the sharp cold air that is.

Golden gorse in bloom against a background of blue sea

In total contrast I was then drawn to a patch of what from a distance I took to be low-growing white flowers but that was actually frosted moss.

a patch of frosted moss

I had been meandering around rather than walking with any purpose and stood for a moment looking around trying to decide which direction to head in, or as the place suddenly seemed to be filling up with people and their dogs, whether to  leave and move on somewhere else. Just then a small flock of jackdaw flew in very close to me and landed on the short grass at the base of the cliff. I am very fond  of these intelligent and sociable birds, and for want of much else to photograph I decided to approach them and try for some close shots.  I got within a few metres, began to slowly raise the camera so as not to spook them, then almost dropped it when I realised that foraging alongside the jackdaws there were two chough. I was excited by the completely unexpected sighting of these much rarer birds, and panicking too as I could see a couple with a loose dog heading straight for me. I managed to get two shots only, one that was too out of focus to present and this one that is a long way from brilliant but does record the event.

A lucky glimpse of a Chough (Pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax) on the Little Orme

I got my shots with just seconds to spare as the dog spotted the birds and bounded towards them, deliberately chasing them away. I watched disappointedly as they flew away, but sadly the dog owners smiled at me as they passed, probably amused by their dog’s ‘playfulness’. I was not at all amused. I had a long enough look to see that one of the chough had quite a collection of leg rings of varying colours, so it is obviously one that has been well monitored and it  should be possible to find out where it came from. Most probable is the nearby Great Orme, but South Stack on  Anglesey is another possibility. If anyone recognises the rings, I’d be very interested to hear from them.

Stonechat - Saxicola torquata

I considered the possibility that the birds may return, so to while away a few minutes I walked down the sloping path into the valley created by past removal of limestone rock. It was sunnier there and almost immediately a small bird perched on a gorse bush caught my eye. Its general size, shape and familiar behaviour  immediately brought stonechat to mind, but this is another bird I’d yet to see here, so I was pleased to confirm that as I focussed the camera lens on  it.

Stonechat (m) in ash tree

As I was leaving the site I had another glimpse of the Stonechat where it was perched in a small ash tree. It was joined there by another bird which I initially thought may have been a female, but was actually a Dunnock.

Dunnock

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‘But it is the common species that keep the living world ticking over and provide most of our experiences of wildlife, and I would argue that maintaining the abundance of these is as important a conservation priority as maintaining the existence of rarities’. Richard Mabey

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LOOKING FOR SOMETHING IN PARTICULAR?

  • The Elder Tree
    The Elder Tree
  • Bryn Pydew
    Bryn Pydew
  • The blackberry bramble
    The blackberry bramble
  • January on the Bryn
    January on the Bryn
  • Grey Seals in North Wales
    Grey Seals in North Wales
  • Herring Gull - Larus argentatus
    Herring Gull - Larus argentatus
  • Brambles, Bumbles and Butterflies
    Brambles, Bumbles and Butterflies
  • Llanddwyn Island & Newborough Warren
    Llanddwyn Island & Newborough Warren
  • Cuckoo-spit and the amazing Froghopper
    Cuckoo-spit and the amazing Froghopper
  • The not-so-common House Sparrow
    The not-so-common House Sparrow

nightingale trails

The Walk of the Monarch Butterfly-Sendero de la Mariposa Monarca

The Walk of the Monarch Butterfly-Sendero de la Mariposa Monarca

MY WILDFLOWER BLOG: where the wildflowers are

Snowdrop

Snowdrop

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