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Tag Archives: coastal birds

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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Waders v Weather

23 Wednesday Nov 2016

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

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

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

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

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

12:51 – Curlews begin to leave.

161005-1251-rhos-point-curlew

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

161005-1252-oystercatchers

Herring gull, Oystercatchers, Turnstones and Redshanks

161005-1253-mixed-waders-gull

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

161005-1253-turnstones-on-rock-island

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

161005-1254-gt-blk-backed-gull

161005-1255-gt-blk-backed-gulls

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

161005-1258-gt-blk-backed-gulls-one-having-a-poo

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

161005-1257-turnstones

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

161005-1259-curlew-taking-off

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

161005-1259-turnstones-oystercatchers

13:00 –

161005-1300-turnstones-oystercatcher-preening

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

161005-1303-oystercatchers-preening-resting

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

161005-1305-turnstone-bathing-1161005-1305-turnstone-bathing-2161005-1305-turnstone-bathing

Turnstone rock- hopping to higher ground

161005-1305-turnstones

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

161005-1307-oystercatchers-turnstones

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

161005-1308-oystercatchers-turnstone

161005-1309-oystercatchers-turnstone

13:12

161005-1312-oystercatcher-1

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

161005-1318-oystercatchers-taking-off

But the turnstones stay put, despite the rising water

161005-1318-turnstones-left-alone

161005-1321-turnstones

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

161005-1321-crow-arrives

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

161005-1323-oystercatcher-stretching-wings-turnstones

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

161005-1323-turnstones-oystercatchers

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

161005-1325-turnstones-1

and are the last birds standing.

161005-1325-turnstones

13:45- The water has covered the Point.

161005-1345-rhos-point-almost-high-tide

13:46

161005-1346-rhos-point-almost-high-tide

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

161005-1346-rhos-point-blk-hded-gull-over-stormy-sea

13:50

161005-1350-rhos-point-blk-hded-gull-over-stormy-sea

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

161005-1353-rhos-point-great-blk-bckd-gulls

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

161005-1354-rhos-point-blk-hded-gull-over-stormy-sea161005-1356-rhos-point-sea-mounting-steps161005-1357-rhos-point-sea-mounting-steps161005-1358-rhos-point-sea-smashing-onto-steps161005-1359-rhos-point-sea-smashing-onto-steps

 

 

 

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A Brilliant Day for Birds

12 Monday Sep 2016

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, birds of Wales, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales, North Wales Wildlife Trust, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

alca torda, bird migration, Black-headed Gull, coastal birds, Cormorant, gavia stellata, larus ridibundus, Northern Wheatear, oenanthe oenanthe, phalacrocorax carb, razorbill, red-throated diver, saxicola torquata, stonechat

September 10th – Little Orme, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

Taking the old cliff path around to Angel Bay, I disturbed a beautiful fresh(ly) Painted Lady butterfly. It circuited round a bit before settling on a stony patch, pressing its wings tightly against small sun-warmed limestone rocks.

160910-lorc3-painted-lady

A small crowd of people gathered on the cliff edge above Angel Bay looked promising; maybe there was something exciting to see down there? But alas, no. They were simply chatting and the beach was empty. This convinced me that as I suspected, female seals don’t give birth to their pups here; if they did they would surely be here by now. There were seals here, but only two, both swimming lazily around in the water. On this cool, misty-damp morning I suspect it was warmer in the water than out. One was hanging in the water with just its face above the water, showing off a lovely set of whiskers.

160910-lorc8-grey-seals-nose

Another was simply cruising around peacefully.

160910-lorc10-grey-seal-on-its-back

There is a thriving breeding population of Cormorants here on the Little Orme, so there is never a shortage of these brilliant birds to see, especially around their nesting site on the cliffs further around the headland. At this time of year and through the winter months, their numbers are boosted greatly and the steeply sloping cliff face that forms one side of Angel Bay is punctuated with a multitude of black dots and dashes. This is now Cormorant Central; the volume and frequency of arrivals and departures of birds rivalling that of aeroplanes into and out of a busy airport.

160910-lorc7-cormorants-on-cliff-edge

I wonder how they work out their perching places? Do early arrivals get the prime spots and do they now have their own patch, or is it up for grabs if they leave to fish for lunch? Do they stick to family or colony groups?

160910-lorc7a-cormorants-on-cliff-edge

Whilst pondering on the whys and wherefores of Cormorant society, I was distracted by two little shapes down in the Bay – definitely birds but I was, of course, on the wrong side to see them properly. It’s not uncommon to get the occasional Guillemot or Razorbill here once the breeding season is over, so I didn’t really think further than that. Winter-plumaged Red-throated Divers didn’t enter my head at the time, but that is what they were. Birds we get around this coast during the autumn and winter, but most often much further out that you need powerful optical assistance to spot.

160910-lorc11-divers-in-angel-bay

I must get back into the habit of taking binoculars out with me instead of relying on my camera’s zoom; sometimes it’s not enough. In this instance a glimpse and a snapshot was all I got anyway; these birds are for once aptly named as they do dive – a lot, reappearing nowhere near where they went under. I walked around to the other side of the rocky hump on the Penrhyn Bay side of the headland as from there you get good uninterrupted views of a wide expanse of sea. Birds fly low past here, keeping close in to the cliff, so some good views of whatever is travelling by; mostly Herring gulls and a few Black-headed gulls today.

160910-lorc15a-black-headed-gull

Black-headed gull–Larus ridibundus

160910-lorc15-black-headed-gull

There was a Cormorant swimming around on the sea’s surface, giving a good view of the strong hooked beak.

160910-lorc14a-cormorant-swimming

A small black and white bird bobbed into view and this really was a Razorbill Alca torda. It was a good way out to sea, but close enough that I could see, through the camera lens, that it was in the process of changing from summer to winter plumage. The plumage of the throat and sides of the neck change from black to white in the winter – the side of this one’s head is still a mix of the two.

160910-lorc17a-razor-bill

It was in no hurry to move away and intent on having a good grooming session.

160910-lorc19a-razor-bill

Members of the Auk family, to which both Razorbills and Puffins belong, look a little like penguins, although they are not closely related. The next few images show some of the similarities between them; species of both have black-and-white colours, an upright posture and share some of their habits.

160910-lorc20a-razor-bill

160910-lorc27a-razor-bill

160910-lorc28a-razor-bill

‘bye ‘bye little Razorbill, thank you for the photographs. Have a good winter.

160910-lorc29a-razor-bill

160910-lorc30a-razor-bill

160910-lorc31a-large-white-bfly-caterpillar

Now a perfect example of how my mind skips around. Although tuned into ‘bird mode’, I spotted a wild cabbage plant and thought ‘maybe there’ll be a Large White butterfly’s caterpillar on those leaves’. And there was, so a gap in my  last-but-one post can be filled in!

I was watching the Razorbill et al for a good half an hour, maybe more, then walked back around the cliff to have a last look around Angel Bay. The seals had gone, but the movement of a smallish bird on the cliff edge caught my eye. Rock Pipit came to mind, but no, it was a much lovelier Northern Wheatear. It was either waiting for the weather to improve or taking in some food before continuing on his long migration back to warmer climes; perhaps both.

160910-lorc34-northern-wheatear

Northern Wheatear – Oenanthe oenanthe

160910-lorc33a-northern-wheatear

I’m not certain whether this was a male or female as when males are in their winter plumage both sexes appear similar. I’m edging towards male as there seems to be a slate-grey patch remaining at the top of the wing. The bird’s common name of ‘Wheatear’ has nothing to do with its food preferences or its ears, but refers to its white rump (i.e white a**e)!

160910-lorc36a-northern-wheatear

More people arrived at the cliff edge and my bird flew away, down onto the big rocks on the beach.

160910-lorc43-bramble-leaves

I began heading in the general direction of the ‘way out’, but hearing a Stonechat nearby diverted to see if I could find it. They’re one of my favourite birds and are often obliging in terms of appearing in the open. I wasn’t disappointed; as I passed by one perched up on top of a bramble, within whose tangled depths a pair have regularly nested.

160910-lorc37-stonechat

At first I thought this was an adult female , but as I got a closer look I could see it still has a speckled head, so it’s probably a juvenile of this year’s brood.

160910-lorc38a-stonechat

Robins were out singing all around the site today, but more wary now of being seen than when they sing in the spring. The one I finally got close enough to photograph was perched on a bracken frond keeping a beady eye out for movements on the ground below, ready to pounce.

160910-lorc40a-robin-on-bracken

160910-lorc41arobin-on-bracken

 

 

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Secret passage behind the sea wall

15 Thursday Oct 2015

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

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

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

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

151007TGNW-1-St Trillo Chapel plaque-Rhos-on-Sea

St Trillo's Chapel, Rhos on Sea

St Trillo’s Chapel, Rhos on Sea

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

151007TGNW-2-Tide coming in-Rhos-on-Sea

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

151007TGNW-3a-Some seashells-Rhos-on-Sea 1

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

Fox -and-cubs on the embankment

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

151007TGNW-Fox-and-cubs

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

151007TGNW-4-Promenade towards Little Orme 1

151007TGNW-4bb-Promenade sign 1

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

151007TGNW-6a-Rock 1

151007TGNW-6b-Rock with turquoise stripe

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

151007TGNW-6e-Rock -pink with crystals

151007TGNW-13-Rocks & spider's web

A spider’s web screens a space between rocks

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

151007TGNW-8-Sea wall- Steps going down

Steps going down to the seashore

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

151007TGNW-7-Pipit-Rhos-on-Sea promenade

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

151007TGNW-9-Sea wall- Steps going up 1Continuing along there’s a stretch that is particularly flowery. There’s a lot of red valerian interspersed with an array of wild plants and garden escapées.

151007TGNW-10-Sea wall path-Towards Penrhyn Bay

Sea mayweedhugs the curve of the sea wall

Sea mayweed hugs the curve of the sea wall

ivy-leaved toadflax

Ivy-leaved toadflax

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Plant with laarge glossy green leaves

Sunlit fern in a rocky crevice

Sunlit fern in a rocky crevice

marigold escaped from a garden

Marigold escaped from a garden

Tree mallow flower

Tree mallow flower

Penrhyn Bay

151007TGNW- Rock covered with seaweed

151007TGNW-Penrhyn Bay-Breakwater & sign

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

151007TGNW-Little Orme & Penrhyn Bay-grassy patch

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-grassy patch

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

Northern wheatear with pipit

Northern wheatear with pipit

Lovely wheatear though.

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Northern Wheatear 1

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

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Linnets feeding 4

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Linnets feeding 1

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Linnet 1

151007TGNW- Penrhyn Bay-Linnet on rock 1

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Ravens of the Little Orme

05 Monday Oct 2015

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, bird mythology, Birds, birds of Wales, Little Orme, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

coastal birds, corvus corax, raven, raven folklore

Ravens once scavenged on the streets of London and other British towns and cities, but were gradually pushed further and further away to the west and north of the country, until the majority of those remaining were residing in the mountains of Scotland and Wales. At one time, due to persecution, their numbers were  reduced to around 1,000 pairs and they became birds much associated with upland wild places. However, the ravens fortunes have turned and over the last twenty years their numbers have increased dramatically and they have repopulated much of Britain, including some urban areas. There are now over 12,000 breeding pairs.

Newborough  forest  on the Isle of Anglesey is famed for its huge raven roost, where up to 2,000 birds have been recorded, making it the second largest raven roost in the world.

Ravens are also found around the Welsh coast, where they nest on sea cliffs. In my local area of North Wales we are lucky in having a resident breeding pair on the Little Orme and for me, a visit there is not complete without seeing what these charismatic corvids are up to.

Raven-Corvus corax

Raven-Corvus corax

RAVEN – Welsh name: BRAN – Scientific name: Corvus corax

The raven is Britain’s largest corvid (crow). Plumage is black and highly glossy in appearance, with bright sunlight bringing forth purple and green highlights; the tail is wedge-shaped. The bill is massive; adapted to pull apart raw flesh it’s an essential tool for a bird which scavenges on dead animals.

A flying raven showing the wedge-shaped tail and dead-mans fingers at wing tips

A flying raven showing the wedge-shaped tail and dead-mans fingers at wing tips

VOICE

Their call is distinctive, a deep croaking sound, known as ‘gronking’ which often alerts me to look up to watch one flying overhead and that is surely one of the most evocative sounds of Britain’s uplands.

Raven calling whilst flying

Raven calling while flying

TERRITORY

The Little Orme’s resident ravens are the avian monarchs of this cliff. They are often seen sitting together on the cliff edge from where they survey their realm, gleaming regally in the sunshine, occasionally lifting their heads to gronk at passing birds or at the empty sky. They have no need to defend their territory as the mere physical presence of these powerful birds is enough to establish their claim to it. But as with other species of birds, when nesting they may become more defensive and will attack anything they perceive to be a threat.

Raven pair in a favoured spot on the clifftop

Raven pair in a favoured spot on the clifftop

When they are not ensconced there, another favoured spot for perching is further up towards the summit atop a rocky ridge. They can sometimes be found flying along the cliffs and across the summit.

The male of the pair may also be found at the sea edge of the cliffs where he spends long minutes hunched on a ledge gazing out to sea watching for potential invaders.

July- Raven looking out to sea

July- Raven looking out to sea

FLIGHT

The everyday flight of the raven is direct, strong and steady, but it can also glide and soar freely and put on an impressive aerobatic display. In spring particularly, pairs of ravens tumble together high in the air, wings half-closed, rolling over sideways and nose-diving. They also have the trick of flying upside down for short distances. Perhaps these aerobics are part of the raven’s courtship display, but they may also perform for the joy of it and just because they can.

16/9/15-Raven flying sideways

16/9/15-Raven soaring sideways

FOOD

Ravens are sometimes regarded as the vultures of sheep country as they patrol in a pair or as a family group, searching for carrion or an ailing sheep or deer which they will watch and wait to die. They will eat almost anything, mainly carrion and small animals, but also insects, shellfish and even grain and acorns.

NESTING

The Little Orme’s ravens return to the same nest each year, adding new material to renovate it as they need to. In the years I have watched them, they have raised only one or two young each year.

Both sexes build a nest of sticks cemented together with mud and bound and lined with moss and sheep’s wool or whatever is available locally, it is shaped into a deep cup, preferably on a ledge or in a crevice. They are amongst the earliest of birds to produce eggs, between February & April. There may be 4-6 eggs, pale green or blue with dark markings. Incubation, by the female only, takes about 19 days. Nestlings are fed by both parents until they leave at about 6 weeks.

31/5/14-Young raven on the nest almost ready to leave

31/5/14-Young raven on the nest almost ready to leave-Little Orme

MYTHOLOGY & FOLKLORE    

The raven is probably one of the world’s most intelligent and playful bird. Modern experiments have shown that they can count up to 8. Our hunter-gatherer ancestors would have observed the keen intelligence of this bird. It has a well-documented habit of deliberately revealing the whereabouts of deer, so that hunting wolves can find their quarry and leave spoils, which the ravens could eat. Even modern deer-stalkers have reported ravens helping them to locate deer, as the birds know that they will receive the ‘gralloch’ or guts after the deer is killed.

Paradoxically it has also been regarded as a bird of ill-omen. The old collective noun for a group of ravens is an ‘unkindness’, perhaps because of its harsh call and its presence as a scavenger at scenes of death.

150428TGLO-Raven on cliff edge 2

In the Old Testament of the Bible, the raven was the first bird Noah sent to look for land, and Elijah is described as being provided for by ravens. They are used as a symbol of God’s providence in both the New Testament and in Christian art.

There is probably more folklore concerning the raven than any other bird in Britain.

In Welsh folklore, Bran the Blessed, the brother of Branwen (Bran is Welsh for raven) is a deity and a guardian of Britain whose totem is a raven. According to the Mabinogion, Bran ordered for his own head to be cut off,  after which it could still speak words of prophecy. Eventually it was said to have been buried beneath Tower Hill, at the Tower of London as a talisman against invasion.

The presence of ravens at the Tower is an echo of this legend and the prophecy says that if the ravens ever leave the tower, the Kingdom of England will fall, hence their wings are clipped as a precaution. It is thought that there have been at least six ravens in residence at the tower for centuries. Charles II reputedly ordered their removal following complaints from John Flamsteed, the Royal Astronomer. However, they were not removed as Charles was then told of the legend. Charles, following the time of the English Civil War, superstition or not, was not prepared to take the chance, and instead had the observatory moved to Greenwich.

Odin, the chief of the Norse gods, was accompanied by a pair of ravens, Hugin (thought) and Munin (memory), who would fly far and wide to bring news to Odin. One of Odin’s names, Hrafnagud, means the ‘Raven God’.

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Noisy birds and sleeping seals

09 Sunday Feb 2014

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, birds of Wales, Nature, Nature of Wales, nature photography

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Aderyn-Drycin y Graig, coastal birds, fulmar, fulmarus glacialis, grey seals, Little Orme, northern fulmar, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, rock pipit, seals in Angel Bay

This post was inspired by a walk taken last weekend with some lovely people I met for the first time then: Gill who is the chairperson of the Bryn Euryn Users’ Association and her partner Tony who is a ‘proper’ birdwatcher. As well as enjoying their company I also learnt a lot from them both; from Gill it was how the Bryn had evolved into a Local Nature Reserve and some of how its habitats are maintained, which I’m hoping to discover more about in the near future.

Little Orme

Tony reminded me how much I’ve been missing here and I rediscovered that when it comes to spotting birds, particularly when they are faraway dots on a wavy sea, three pairs of eyes are better than one and that a telescope widens the horizons in more ways than one!

Two grey seals swimming in Angel Bay

Two grey seals swimming in Angel Bay

Firstly though, we had some good sightings of Fulmar which are back at their nest sites on the cliff face. The Raven was up in his favourite spot just above them and Tony showed me their nest site where we saw and heard them both a little later on. We also spent a few minutes hunting for signs of a Black Redstart that was reported being seen here a few weeks ago, but no luck. From the clifftop overlooking Angel Bay there were two Grey Seals swimming and further out to sea there were some great seabirds including numbers of Great Crested Grebe, Red-throated Diver , Guillemot & Razorbill as well as the more easily seen Shags & Cormorants. Walking around the rocky outcrop to the ledge that overlooks Penrhyn Bay and the wider sea, we encountered a Rock Pipit pecking around the grass and rocks, not at all concerned that we were there and presenting an irresistible photo opportunity. 

Rock Pipit-

Rock Pipit- Anthus spinoletta

This week I waited for a break in the weather to return to the Little Orme for more viewing and Friday’s sunshine was just what I’d been waiting for. I was particularly keen to see more of the Fulmar so headed in their direction first. The Raven pair were once more sitting up in their favourite spot above the Fulmar site. They are both looking gorgeously fit and healthy, their plumage shining brightly in the sunlight.

The Raven pair gleaming in the sunlight

The Raven pair gleaming in the sunlight

I counted three pairs of Fulmar here initially, who were later joined by what I think was a single male on a site just around the rock. Some birds were easier to see than others as they have chosen their nests sites carefully to give them some shelter from the elements, and those I’m assuming to be the females were mostly tucked behind a rock or back into clefts in the rock-face.

Fulmar pair on a rock ledge

Fulmar pair on a rock ledge

The birds were noisy; males are definitely proclaiming their territories and there was quite a bit of aerial activity, taking off, swooping around and then landing again with more vocals. The sound has been described as harsh, throaty and machine-gun like.

There were a lot of Jackdaw on the cliffs too and I suspect that much of the Fulmar’s vocalising was aimed at them and they in turn were giving back as good as they got, so it got very noisy at times.

Jackdaws up on the cliff-Wild Cabbage has established up there

Jackdaws up on the cliff-Wild Cabbage has established up there

There were more of the birds on the cliff-face at the edge of Angel Bay; they were making even more noise, much of it directed at a single bird that was flying around and attempting to land in spots already occupied by pairs of birds. I think there may be 8 pairs in total, which will be easier to establish once they’ve settled down.

 FULMAR

Common name: Fulmar or Northern Fulmar; Scientific name: Fulmarus glacialis Welsh name: Aderyn-Drycin y Graig

BTO Conservation Status: AMBER because Recent Breeding Population Decline (1981-2007), Localised Breeding Population

The common name is derived from the Old Norse word ‘full’ meaning foul and ‘mar’ meaning seabird or gull. The foul part refers to the fact that they can spit out a foul-smelling oily fluid to defend their territories from intruders; it’s not all bad though, the oil is also an energy rich food source for chicks and for the adults during their long flights. The glacialis of the scientific name means icy.

They are long-lived, with a lifespan of 40 years not uncommon.

Fulmar sitting on guard

Fulmar sitting on guard

The Fulmar is a bird of the open sea, a ‘tube-nose’ that is a first cousin of the albatross and belonging to the same group of birds as the shearwaters and petrels. They feed at sea  on crustaceans, squid, fish, offal and carrion mostly from the surface.To deal with excesses of salt they take in with their food they have a gland located above the nasal tube through which all the bird’s blood is pumped and the salt removed. The salt-laden discharge runs from the tube nose along a groove in the beak and drips off away from the body, keeping plumage clean.

Fulmar glide effortlessly with stiff wings

Fulmar glide effortlessly with stiff wings

At first sight Fulmars resemble gulls but seen more closely are distinguished by the shape of their beak which has a tube-shaped proturberance on the top and a thicker neck. They have long, narrow wings and fly low over the sea on stiff wings, with shallow wingbeats, gliding and banking to show its white underparts then grey upperparts.

Head on the Fulmar is sleek and has a blade-like profile

Head on the Fulmar is sleek and has an almost blade-like profile

At its breeding sites it will fly high up the cliff face, riding the updraughts.

Flying in to land

Flying in to land showing underside

Nesting sites are deserted in September and Fulmars are usually absent offshore during October and November. Their absence from the breeding cliffs is short-lived as by late November or early December the birds are back prospecting around the nesting sites.

Both of the pair calling

Both of a pair calling noisily

The nest itself may be nothing more elaborate than a depression in bare rock or a scrape in turf, although they are sometimes lined with a few pebbles. The female lays a single white egg in May, so they’ve a while to go yet.

A quick glance down onto Angel Bay brought a pleasant surprise – a mixed size group of 22 Grey seals. They were very chilled, many of them asleep on their backs; gorgeous.

A mixed group of Grey seals

A mixed group of Grey seals

Many of the seals were asleep on their backs

Many of the seals were asleep on their backs – I love their flippers

I think these were posing for the camera

I think some were posing for the camera

I was a bit worried that one of these appeared to have blood around its head

I was a bit worried that one of these appeared to have blood around its head

This one was scratching an itch

This one was scratching an itch

These pups were wide awake

These pups were wide awake

A view from the end of the bay includes most of the group

A view from the end of the bay includes most of the group

140206-Little Orme 25- Sea crashing onto rocks

Ending with a splash

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From blustery beach to sheltered woods

17 Wednesday Apr 2013

Posted by theresagreen in Colwyn Bay, nature of woodlands, woodland birds

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Tags

blackbird, coal tit, coastal birds, Collared Doves, dunnock, Fairy Glen, herring gull, magpie, wood pigeon

I had driven along to Colwyn Bay to have a closer look at the beach-building, not because I am lazy, more to do with there being a bitterly cold wind blowing with too few  compensating warm sunny intervals to make it a pleasant place to be. I did stop for few minutes though and bought a mug of tea from one of the snack shacks to warm me up a bit while I stood perusing the beach, which I’m glad I did. Over the last few days I have spotted a few small flocks of small birds flying in across the sea and there were more as I watched then; finches by their up and down bouncy flight and I’m pretty sure goldfinch by the contact calls they were making. I never have binoculars when I need them, which was a shame today as I also had sights of incoming house martins; fortunately very close ones, so no doubts there. There’s nothing like the first sight of these amazing little migrants, it is always uplifting and hopeful.

As I drank my tea I was entertained by a courting couple of herring gull, both looking bright eyed and beautiful in immaculate plumage and freshly coloured beaks.

Herring gull pair bonding

Herring gull pair bonding

Female begging for food

Female begging for food

She was quite insistent but he was not sharing

She was quite insistent but he was not sharing

A nice pose from the pair showing the difference in sizes

A nice pose from the pair showing the difference in their size

One of the best aspects of living here is that within a very short time and distance you can move into a completely different environment, so as I was close by I headed up to Fairy Glen to seek out some wildlife in the shelter of its trees. As I’ve said before this small local nature reserve within the bounds of Old Colwyn village can be a bit scruffy when viewed through human eyes, but the presence of the fast-flowing stream of water and a well-established variety of trees, shrubs and woodland plants combine to make this the perfect oasis for an impressive number of woodland bird species as well as those that have learned to live amongst people.

First to attract my attention was a Collared Dove that was pottering around on the ground by the side of the river before fluttering down onto a rock to take a drink. There are usually a pair of these pretty doves here, but as there was just the one today I hope the other was sitting on a nest.

A collared dove on a rock in the river

A collared dove on a rock in the river

Next to come into view was a pair of magpie, which I had never seen actually within the woodland before. This is another opportunistic bird species that gets bad press and is not much liked by a lot of people, but they are elegant birds, strikingly handsome in appearance and in common with most members of the crow family, clever and characterful.

One of a pair of magpie on the handrail of the walkway

One of a pair of magpie on the handrail of the walkway

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA

A wary wood pigeon taking a drink

There were numerous blue tits out hunting for food, minutely examining twigs and leaf buds for insects as they do. Blue tits have the inexplicable knack of timing their egg-laying to coincide the hatching of their young with the emergence of caterpillars. This cold but rather dry spring may well have set them back by a few weeks this year; I have only seen one butterfly so far this spring. There were great tits too, in lesser numbers as always, and I was pleased to see a coal tit, always one of my ‘target’ birds here and generally to be spotted in the same spot, close by to where there are a number of large conifer trees, some type of cypress, maybe overgrown leylandii.

A dunnock drying itself off after taking a dip

A dunnock drying itself off after taking a dip

I heard several birds singing, blackbird, robin and wren most frequently and one short and sweet tune of a dunnock. I spotted a dunnock bathing in shallow water at the edge of the ditch that runs along the side of the footpath and collects run-off water from the high bank above it. It flew into some brambly scrub to dry off and sat for some minutes shaking water from its feathers and preening them back into shape.

There were some wildflowers to be seen, lesser celandines, one or two wood violets, a single stem of kingcups on the boggy part of the riverbank and on a sheltered bank under the trees, the first primroses.

I had been looking out for grey wagtails; I know they have returned as I’ve seen them around the houses in the vicinity of the lower end of the river, so on my way back to the car I walked along the lower end of the river down to where it flows into the sea. Although I was watching for them, the grey wagtails saw me first and took off from the water up and away. At least I saw them, if only briefly. To compensate though I heard a bird ‘singing’ that I didn’t immediately recognise and traced it to a large evergreen tree; I could see several small birds, I think four, that I first took to be blue tits feeding in the top of the adjacent tree, but they and the singer were coal tits.

A coal tit feeding at the top of a tree

A coal tit feeding at the top of a tree

I think perhaps my favourite sight of the day though was of crow attempting to pick twigs from a small tree. It was having big problems trying to balance on the slender branches and despite valiant efforts the twigs were too well attached to snap off easily, but fair play to the bird it kept on trying.

The precariously balance crow trying its best to break off a twig

The precariously balance crow trying its best to break off a twig

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Playing host to some noisy summer visitors

03 Monday Sep 2012

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Nature, nature photography, Rhos-on-Sea

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

coastal birds, herring gull, herring gull breeding behaviour, herring gull young, herring gulls calling, herring gulls in towns, herring gulls nesting on roofs

The sight and sound of Herring gulls are an integral part of the local community here and as I wrote last year, you either love them or you loathe them. Personally I rather like them, but having just endured this year’s breeding season and had them as very close boarders, I may have gone off them slightly! The Edwardian building we occupy the centre part of played host to two nesting pairs this year, one pair on either side of us, each settling into the top of a tall terracotta chimney pot. I can see the appeal for them, quiet neighbourhood, excellent panoramic penthouse views, just a minute’s flap from the sea, a wide variety of eating opportunities close by. .. Unfortunately from a landlady’s viewpoint, they were not the ideal ‘guests’ and the noise levels were, frankly, unsociable. Stuck in the middle of the two nests sites we were subjected to frequent sessions of raucous territorial shrieking in stereo. Requests to pipe down a bit fell on deaf ears.

Once the offspring hatched the sessions became even more frequent, then reached their peak once the youngsters fledged. That was when they  moved down onto our flat roof, which is just below my bedroom window, and really made their presence heard.

A very newly fledged gull, the offspring of pair number two

Herring gulls herald the crack of dawn very loudly, which at the time was around 4.30am, so that’s when I woke up too. They are much louder than cockerels and even less tuneful.

Even persistent rain does not dampen the desire to squawk

The proximity of the gulls definitely disturbed the usual peace of the neighbourhood, but on the positive side it also literally gave me a window into part of their daily lives. I soon realised that the bouts of loud calling are not a random act, the birds use their powerful voices to call to their partners and offspring as well as to declare their possession of a territory and to warn off intruders. As the youngsters grow in confidence and flying ability improves they leave their ‘home’ area to explore, but parents still return there with food and summon them back to eat it.

The adults always called loudly before delivering food to their young, perhaps it stimulates regurgitation?

The adults had a ritual; each time they arrived back with food they began calling loudly, starting off with their heads lowered, then raising them, cranking up the volume until they reached a crescendo with head thrown back and beak opened fully.

You would not want to be on the sharp end of that beak

They are vigilant and attentive parents and deal patiently with  harassment by their young ones that persistently beg  for food. I’m not sure they are very well versed in nutrition though; ever the opportunists I saw them bring forth a variety of foodstuffs, including french fries, raw chicken, bits of crab and a still-wriggling starfish.

This starfish was definitely fresh, still wriggling in fact

The gulls took time out in the afternoons to rest together, the pair work together to raise their young and appear to be well bonded. Although they would appear to be relaxed, they were ever-vigilant and well aware of the presence of other birds in their airspace, taking it in turns to issue warnings.

The male of the pair starting off vocal proceedings . *note the sunlight show through the thin membrane below his beak

Your turn dear …..

All squawked out

Teaching junior how its done – a family session

A postcard to our summer visitors: “Thank you for an interesting and educational few weeks, but I’m glad you’re no longer here. Perhaps you might enjoy trying a new location next year? I understand the chips are rather good in Llandudno, or how about Rhyl …..?”

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New gulls on the block

17 Tuesday Jul 2012

Posted by theresagreen in bird behaviour, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature, nature photography

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

coastal birds, herring gull, herring gulls in towns, larus argentatus, rhos on sea

I’ve been away quite a bit lately, so there’s quite a bit of catching up to do  here in Rhos-on-Sea. The weather here, as everywhere else has not been conducive to venturing far, but I have been able to do some very productive birdwatching from my bedroom window, which I probably would not have done had I been out and about, so some clouds do have silver linings. In this case the silver has been in the shape of Herring Gulls – (the scientific name larus argentatus translates as silver gull). The activity has been brought about by the recent fledging of the single offspring produced by the pair that nested atop our next-door neighbour’s chimney pot.

At first the young gull spent a lot of time resting on the flat roof, where it is surprisingly well camouflaged.

The newly-fledged gull resting

In between bouts of resting it wandered around the rooftop picking at the odd collection of sticks, shells, bones and other random items brought there by its parents hoping to find something edible it may have missed.

First portrait of the new arrival

I don’t need to sit and watch and wait for the parents to arrive with food as both adult and their young one set off such a cacophony of noise at the sight of one another I can hear them from wherever I am in the house. Once a parent lands the youngster automatically adopts the typical crouched, hunched shoulder begging posture that makes it look a bit like a small vulture.

In begging posture

The loud communication between the two birds continues for a minute or so, then the parent allows the young one to approach and finally to tap the red spot on its beak to stimulate the regurgitation of the food it has brought.

The young gull approaching its parent

Getting into position

The young gull taps the red spot on its parent’s beak  to stimulate regurgitation of its lunch

What follows is not pretty as the parent brings back whatever food it has managed to find and deposits it in front of its youngster. It seems to be thriving on a diet that does not always look particularly healthy; in the following pictures the meal is raw chicken, but on another occasion it was a pile of french fries. There have also been more natural offerings of crab, which is consumed shell and all and small fish.

The adult regurgitating raw meat, maybe chicken

Fortunately the young gull is not a fussy eater

Once the food has been swallowed by the young one the parent leaves immediately, its departure once more accompanied by more loud cries.

Over the course of the last few days the young gull has gained much in confidence and now flies off  to spend much of the day elsewhere, but it is still returning to the high roof in the evenings with its parents and to the flat roof for intervals, maybe to rest where it feels safe.

The young one is gaining in confidence and strength daily

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Strangers on and off the shore

30 Monday Jan 2012

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

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

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

Rock pipit

Rock pipit, back view

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

Black-throated Diver- Gavia arctica

Family : Divers – (Gaviidae)

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

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

Red-throated Diver- Gavia stellata

Family : Divers – (Gaviidae)

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

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

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

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

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

Great crested Grebe- Podiceps cristatis

The Great crested Grebe caught a sizeable fish

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

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

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

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

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

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

Purple Sandpiper-Calidris maritima

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

Purple sandpiper amongst dunlin & a ringed plover

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

Dunlin - Calidris alpina

Ringed plover-charadrius hiaticula, in sunlight

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

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

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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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