Little Orme

21 Saturday Apr 2018

Posted by theresagreen in birds of Wales, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, Industrial sites reclaimed by Nature, Little Orme, Nature of Wales, North Wales, North Wales Path, Wales Coast Path, Walking Trails, Wildflowers of Wales

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Tags

Cormorant, Cormorant breeding plumage, cormorant with white head, fulmar, Great cormorant, grey seals, Northern Wheatear, phalocrocorax carbo, shag

April 5th

I’m home for a few days and feel the need to catch up on what’s happening here before setting off again at the weekend. I decided to head for the Little Orme, the best place I know locally to see a great variety of wildlife in a short space of time. Spring is generally late arriving this year and usually comes even later here than to other more sheltered sites, so I hoped I wouldn’t have missed too much.

The blend of habits on this limestone headland make it special, if not unique as it provides for the needs of diverse species of birds from House sparrows to Chough and Fulmars and it supports some lovely lime-loving wildflowers. The human influence on the site is most evident in its dramatic reshaping by quarrying, there is also a farm with some enclosed fields and sheep that are allowed to range freely. Houses butt closely up against its Penrhyn Bay boundary and it is rare to come here and not see people out walking. Today I noticed that someone has hung a bird-feeder up in a small tree just inside the site. There was a Great tit and several House sparrows taking the seed on offer, but not surprisingly they were seen off by Jackdaws.

Great tit at feeder

Jackdaw at feeder

It’s the Easter holidays, so as I’d expected there were a good few people here, families enjoying the fresh air and sunshine, the usual dog-walkers and a few dog-less ones too.

There were people clambering on the rock beside Angel Bay. Below them a trio of Herring gulls set up a raucous racket. I couldn’t be sure what had set them off, but maybe they were objecting to people invading their space.

On a rock jutting out into Angel Bay another pair sat calmly, heads turned towards the group of grey seals down below them, some of which were also making a bit of noise.

They were a lovely little group of adults with their young ones. Some were trying their best to relax while others were restlessly in and out of the water. At least two more were swimming around out in the bay.

Grey seals

Grey seals slumbering

A single Guillemot was also cruising around on the water but didn’t stay visible for long, soon diving and swimming away underwater hunting fish.

Guillemot

When I first entered the site I was surprised not to see or hear Fulmars on the high cliff that usually has several pairs nesting, or preparing to nest on its ledges by this time. There were one or two flying around the cliffs nearer to the sea though, so I set off up the steep path to the old quarry field to see if there were signs of nesting there.

Fulmars are distinctive in flight holding wings stiff and straight out

I’m sure this upward slope gets steeper each time I climb it! I have to remind myself it wasn’t built for walking up. Back in the days when quarrying was in full swing there were rails from its bottom end up to what was a quarry face; trucks were loaded with stone then lowered down and returned empty using heavy-duty winding gear – the remains of which still stands as a monument to past industry at the top of the track. Care is needed when using this track, it’s slippery when wet and dry, especially going down.

Steep slope of old quarry truck-run

Remains of old quarry truck winding gear

I was pleased to have a few excuses to stop for breath to photograph celandines and primroses nestled down amongst the dead stems of grass and fronds of bracken. There were daisies on the grassy slopes nearer the top, one with a fly sunbathing in its centre.

Lesser celandine-

Primrose-

Daisy with fly

Common daisy-bellis perennis

One of the limestone specialist plants, the Carline thistle still holds it shape perfectly, seedheads still intact, although it is completely dry and colourless.

Phew! Finally at the top. I walked around the cliff edge, not too close as I could see that the winter weather has further eroded away the softer layers of soil and loose stone that covers the bedrock.

Signs of recent erosion

Two Fulmars sat quietly in a sheltered recess in the cliff-face. I’m fairly sure they were a pair as they were sitting close together and occasionally touching one another, I’m loathe to say affectionately, but it did look that way!

Fulmars

Fulmars are noisy birds though and it wasn’t long before something set them off. I imagine their spot is a good one and probably coveted by others, so will take a fair amount of defending.

They have a visitor who clings onto the rock nearby and stays for a while despite being squawked at. Perhaps the noise was by way of a greeting.

I was surprised it managed to cling on with those flat webbed feet. It was a lovely view for me though, they are such pretty gulls to look at. Shame about the raucous voice and the habit of snorting out salt water and other debris down their tubular noses!

Another bird made several close aerial passes but didn’t stop. I left them to it; seems like they’ve got enough to contend with.

I take the ‘short-cut’ scramble up the rocks to reach the higher level of the cliffs: not the recommended route, especially for grandmothers encumbered with cameras in hand that should know better! I got there unscathed though and enjoyed a good view back down onto the quarry from the top.

View down into the former quarry

I was heading for the outcrops of the headland used as nest sites by the Cormorant and Guillemot colonies, although I suspected I may be a bit early. I like the view over to the Great Orme from here; it looks like an island.

TREASURE IN THE GRASS

Although grazed by sheep and rabbits and exposed to the worst of the elements here, wildflowers can be found tucked down in the turf particularly around exposed rock. I spotted this little patch of white flowers, which on closer inspection turned out to be two different species. I couldn’t name either, but very kindly Suzanne posted a comment and suggested the tiny one with red-tinged fleshy leaves may be Rue-leaved saxifrage and the bigger more droopy one with fine stems as Common Whitlow grass. I will go back and get some better photographs of the little treasures.

Common Whitlow grass-Erophila verna

I disturbed a flock of Jackdays that had been foraging in the clifftop grass. In my picture the buildings on the top of the hill in the background are on the Great Orme Summit.

Looking over the edge of the cliff for signs of my target birds I saw what I thought were Cormorants until I saw the raised crest of one and realised they were Shags.They were far below me, so the quality of the image is not great, but you can see what they are from it.

There were no signs of either Cormorants or Guillemots on this side of the cliff so I carried on walking towards its other more easily visible side. I hadn’t gone far when I spotted a bird flitting about between rocks near the edge; a handsome male Northern Wheatear. It was slightly below me behind a bit of a ridge, so partly hidden from its view I managed to watch it for some time with out disturbing it.

Northern Wheatear

CORMORANT COLONY

As I’d thought it was a bit early for the Cormorants to have begun nesting, but there were a a few birds hanging around on the cliff.

Two birds higher up on a ledge definitely have their breeding plumage – the white patches on their thighs is clearly visible. They also have white heads which is more unusual amongst the Cormorants we usually see here. They were adopting some strange poses too, but may just have been making the most of a warm spot.

Cormorant or Great Cormorant- Phalocrocorax carbo

I went back down the hill following the paths to complete the circuit of this side of the headland. I realised I hadn’t met a single sheep out on the cliffs when I saw the first ones with lambs still in the field.

The gorse is coming into full golden bloom now and as always I couldn’t resist stopping several times to inhale its gorgeous uplifting scent.

I heard a Robin singing and did spied him framed by prickly branches.

Picking my way carefully down the rocky slope past the sheep field I heard a Greenfinch singing from within the tangle of shrubby vegetation. Tauntingly close by, I stood and searched for a while but couldn’t pinpoint him. It was good to hear him though; as I said in the most recent post about the Great Orme, Greenfinches are not that common nowadays.

The hawthorn tree that marks the junction of paths going up, down or on towards the Rhiwleddyn Reserve, is still without leaves but green with lichen. It’s a lovely tree, having a perfect full rounded shape and spreading evenly in all directions; unusual here where the hawthorns are mostly forced into some weird and wonderful shapes by exposure to the strong winds.

The slope going down safely negotiated, I walked towards the way out, stopping only to debate whether to walk through the man-made ‘gorge’ that leads through to another way in/out at its far end. It can be a good place to spot Stonechats, which I hadn’t seen today, but there were quite a few big puddles of water and it looked muddy, so I gave it a miss.

Looking down into the ‘gorge’ from the path above, I stopped to listen to a Blackbird singing from a small ash tree growing down there. They have such a wonderful laid-back, tuneful and fluent song that is so easy on the ear.

Several Jackdaws were more intent on foraging for their supper.

A rotund little Dunnock singing his pretty little song from amongst the tangle of bramble stems at the side of the steps finished off my walk perfectly.

Dunnock

Weather: Sunny but cool

Birds: Herring gull; Fulmar; Guillemot; Cormorant; Shag; Carrion crow; Magpie; Wood pigeon; Jackdaw; Blackbird; Robin; Greenfinch (singing); House sparrow; Dunnock; Great tit; Wren; Northern Wheatear

Insects: Very few; too cold for butterflies

Wildflowers: Alexanders; Gorse; Primrose; Common Daisy; Lesser celandine; Carline thistle (dried); Common Whitlow grass

Little Orme Level 2 and Higher

23 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by theresagreen in bird's nests, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal wildflowers, Little Orme, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, Wildflowers of Wales, wildflowers on limestone

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

bird's nests, Cormorant, cormorant colony, cormorants nesting, guillemot, moon daisy, ox-eye daisy, sea campion, swollen-thighed beetle, yellow dung fly

Cormorants flying overhead refocussed my attention and I began the climb up the steep slope to the next level of the cliff.

I didn’t get far before stopping to watch the Whitethroat I had been heading for pre-Chough. He was singing from an old bramble stem close by and was nicely visible apart from being seemingly garotted by a twiggy branch. Song done, he flew across the track into the base of a huge bramble shortly followed in by his mate coming from the other direction, carrying food in her beak. So this is where they are nesting, no doubt tucked low down in the protective thorny thicket.

About half-way up I welcomed the excuse to pause, granted by the sight of another Swollen-thighed Beetle, this time a male sporting a splendid pair of said swollen thighs.

At the top is a reminder that the slope’s purpose was not originally as a walking track. Here stand the remains of supports and cogs for winding gear, once employed to steady trucks full of quarried stone on tracks down the steep slope, then to haul back empty ones.

TGLOVW-Winding gear remains at top of slope

This quarry face accommodates many nesting pairs of Jackdaws, whose cries often echo loudly around the bare stone cliffs. They were quiet today, the only sound made by a sheep bleating from the edge of the wall towering above. Clearly a mother, she may have been calling for her young one; I hoped he hadn’t been hauled off to market to end up as Welsh Spring Lamb in a butcher’s shop.

I took a very quick look at nesting Fulmars, didn’t want to disturb them so stayed well back.

Attractive birds with an elegant stiff-winged flight, it’s hard to believe they produce such a loud, rather harsh cry and that their tube-like nostrils are designed to allow them, inelegantly, to snort out salty water.

From up here you can look down on the flat quarried-out ‘Level 1’ of the site, with the cove of Angel Bay at its edge. The dry grassed areas are already showing signs of wear and tear.

Onwards and upwards, following the track that is both on the routes of the North Wales Coastal Path and the national Wales Coast Path. It is heavily eroded in parts, and bridged by gnarled old roots, (or branches?) of gorse.

Ravens had made me aware of their presence since arriving here today, being more mobile and noisier than usual and as I ambled along this part of the track an outburst of their calls broke out from somewhere ahead of me. I had just seen birds harrassing what I assumed to be a Buzzard and thought that may have escalated into a bit more of an incident. Getting closer I saw three birds having a bit of a to-do; two of them seemed to be attacking a third that was sitting atop a fence. Not a Buzzard.

I was still too far away to see properly, but this may have been a pair of Raven upset with an intruding one. Does it have something in its beak in the first picture, an egg maybe? I have no idea but they took off from here and continued to express their annoyance from the field below for some time.

None the wiser as to what I’d witnessed I carried on, scanning the track ahead of me, as I am wont to do at this time of year, checking for sheep poo; you never know when there may be something interesting dining out thereon. I got lucky, a fairly fresh deposit yielded a little male Yellow Dung-fly. In an awkward spot to photograph, I had no option than to kneel down in front of the dung, then almost had my nose in it to get him in close up without using the lens zoom, quietly hoping no-one came along the path to witness my odd behaviour. It was worth it; I realised he hadn’t flown off as he was otherwise occupied with a lady Dung-fly. Females are far fewer in number than males, so there was no chance he was leaving, whatever I was doing.

Yellow Dung-fly pair mating

Same image but bigger

THE CORMORANT COLONY

Reputedly the largest Cormorant breeding colony in the British Isles, this is an impressive sight, even from this distance and this is only a part of it; it continues around to the other side of the rocky outcrop in the photograph below, where there are even more of them.

I’ve shown this aspect of the Cormorant colony several times before, but this is the first time I’ve visited it at the right time to catch the birds on their nests. I was thrilled to get a glimpse of young birds in some of the nests; Cormorants usually lay 2-3 eggs, and from those I could see most seem to have hatched and grown successfully, so there must be plenty of food available locally to keep offspring and parents well fed.

Some of the young birds seemed a bit more advanced than others and were already out of the nest exercising their wings, but many birds were still sitting.

The bulk of the colony is not as easy to see, and viewing the birds involves a bit of rambling up and down the uneven cliff top, then peering down from cliff edge, but it is well worth the effort. The photograph below shows the colony to be situated well out of reach of nosy people.

Around the rock I was now upwind of the birds, so as well as amazing sights and sounds I was greeted with the equally amazing smell produced by a large number of fish-eating birds confined to a relatively small space. I wish I could share it with you!

But pungent aromas aside,the colony on this side holds another treat; right in its centre is another smaller colony – of smart little penguin-like Guillemots. Surrounded by the much bigger Cormorants I imagine it is a safe haven for them from potential predators such as gulls and the Cormorants seem perfectly accepting of them.

Cormorants and Guillemots sharing fishing space on the rocks below. There were many more birds of both species flying back and forth and hunting and diving in the water too. Cormorants stay separate but Guillemots often join together in ‘rafts’ floating on the surface of the sea.

These two birds, who I fancied were enjoying some fresher air away from the colony, is my favourite Cormorant image from the day. The birds weren’t making a sound; they gape their beaks as a means of cooling down their bodies, but it seems like they’re commenting on something out at sea. Possibly the ever-encroaching turbines of the wind farm, or maybe they were sureying for likely fishing spots.

It was a sunny day with some cloud and really strongly windy, particularly noticeable up here at the top of the headland on its sea-facing edge, but the elements’ combined effects on the water was breathtaking. I sat for some time watching the ever-changing patterns of light and shade on the surface of the blue sea as the wind rippled across its surface and clouds cast shadows above it. It really was the colour of the photograph below and quite mesmerising.

View from the Little Orme across Llandudno Bay to the Great Orme

Birds flew past the cliff at eye level; mostly Herring Gulls, but one Greater Black-backed gull too, and a Raven gronked a greeting as he passed by; all strong birds gliding effortlessly on the wind and thermals created by the cliff face. A Rock pipit popped up over the edge briefly but popped down again when he spotted me. A Jackdaw also appeared over a ridge, but disregarded me completely and carried on foraging within touching distance, even posing for a portrait.

THE CLIFFTOP

Returning to the main track I passed a ewe and her lambs who had found a shady and sheltered place to rest with her lambs.

I watched a 7-spot ladybird scrambling through the mossy turf. Grazed by sheep and rabbits, baked by the sun and exposed regularly to strong, salt-laden winds anything that survives here has to be tough, especially the flora. Amongst the toughest of our native flora are the thistles, the two most common species of which thrive here.

The Creeping thistle has already begun flowering and even up here was being visited by bumblebees and a wind-blown Red Admiral butterfly.

The other is the fierce-looking Spear thistle with its aptly-named long sharp spikes protecting its every part, which has flower buds almost on the point of opening now.

170527-TGLOFW-Spear thistle fierce leaves

On the ledge beneath an overhanging rocky outcrop I was surprised to spot a clump of white-flowered plants. Getting closer I saw they were Sea campion and also Moon (Ox-eye) daisies with one of the best specimens of Salad burnet I’ve seen anywhere so far this Spring. I wonder how they got there?

Sea campion – Silene maritima

Going back down I took a photograph to remind me to say that although fading fast there is still gorse in flower and also hawthorn, but the main blossom plant now is the creamy white elder.

And another to remind myself that I can never tired of looking at this view across Penrhyn and Colwyn Bays, even when on hot days like this one much of the distance is lost in a haze.

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

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

Small White (f) on valerian leaves

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

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

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

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

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!

Catchers, a Duck and Divers

28 Wednesday Sep 2016

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

≈ 23 Comments

Tags

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

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

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

Black-headed gulls also waited.

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

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

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

Standing in the shallow water were a good number of Redshanks

and more Black-headed gulls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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.

Another was simply cruising around peacefully.

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.

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?

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.

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.

Black-headed gull–Larus ridibundus

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

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.

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

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.

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

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.

Northern Wheatear – Oenanthe oenanthe

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)!

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

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.

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.

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.

Wales Coast Path – Little Orme

24 Sunday May 2015

Posted by theresagreen in birds of Wales, Birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks, coastal wildflowers, Little Orme, Nature of Wales, Rhiwledyn Nature Reserve, The Wales Coast Path, Wildflowers of Wales

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Cormorant, cormorants nesting, fulmar, fulmar nesting, ground ivy, jackdaw, sea campion, The Wales Coast Path-Little Orme

The Little Orme is a highlight of both the northern Wales Coast Path and the North Wales Path; it is a Nature Reserve with diverse habitats and wildlife and is popular with visitors and locals. I walk here often throughout the year but thought I would photograph this walk, taken at the end of April, as though I was following the Path, while meandering around as I usually do admiring the views and the special wildlife.

The Coast Path follows the promenade from Rhos-on-Sea around the Point and up to Penrhyn Bay. To reach the Little Orme turn off the main road and walk along Beach Road, which ends in a cul-de-sac where there are steps up to the site. Turn right at the top of the path from the steps to continue on the route.

In late winter to early spring Fulmars return to their nest sites here. They are noisy birds and vocalise loudly in the first weeks of their return as they sort out who is nesting where. Now, in late April they have quietened down and are settled into their nest sites on the more sheltered sides of the cliffs. There are currently five pairs on the more inland cliff and three or four more pairs on the lee sides of the cliff faces nearest to the sea. Their numbers are few but seem to be reasonably consistent year on year.

Fulmar nest on cliff nearer the sea

Fulmar pair sitting on cliff edge

At the base of the cliff forming one side of Angel Bay, Sea Campion is flowering.

Sea Campion-Silene maritima

I usually head for the cliff edge overlooking Angel Bay to see if there are any Grey Seals about. Today there were just two young ones swimming close to the rocks. The path to the summit involves an initial steep climb up an incline locally known as ‘Rabbit Hill’. It looks a gentle slope in the photograph, but it really isn’t, especially when you are as unfit as I was after my marathon-long virus! I had to stop twice today, but who cares when there are stunning views to look back at.

The Coast Path continues up steeply sloping ‘Rabbit Hill’

Jackdaws are numerous residents and pairs of the characterful birds are nesting in nooks and crannies all over the cliffs. It’s always good to see them nesting communally in their ‘proper’ habitat rather than in the chimneys of houses in towns and villages. There are a particularly large number of them nesting up on the cliff at the back of the flat quarried-out grassy area at the top of Rabbit Hill and as I reached there I watched them as they used their numbers to chase off two Herring Gulls that were probably speculating for unguarded eggs.

Cliff face of the old quarry that is now inhabitated by Jackdaws

Jackdaw foraging at the base of the cliff

Onwards and upwards from the rock-strewn quarry field the track is bordered by gorse bushes and the air was perfumed with its wonderful coconut scent. Every bush was smothered with thousands of tightly packed golden flowers, a truly glorious treat for both eyes and nose. The grass is kept closely cropped by both rabbits and wandering sheep and a variety of birds including blackbirds, robins, chaffinches, goldfinches and dunnocks all forage here on the ground or amongst the scrubby shrubbery.

A baby bunny dozing in a sunny spot at the side of the track

The track upwards bends to the right now and passes by an enclosed rough pasture grazed by sheep and is frequented by Jackdaws. It’s always worth checking to see if any of the black birds are actually Chough.

A sheep pauses from grazing in the enclosed field to admire the view

At the top of the field the track turns sharply left and continues bordered by more gorse, blackthorn and hawthorn. Today walking through the fragrant gorse and blackthorn blossom was blissful.

The trail winds through a thicket of gorse and blackthorn

Every gorse bush was packed tight with blossoms

Every gorse bush was packed tight with fragrant blossoms

Eristalis Hoverfly nectaring on gorse flower

If you had been walking the Coast Path, there is a perfect view from the top of this section of the track of where you have walked if coming from the direction of Abergele, or of where you will be walking if going the other way.

View from the cliff edge showing the route of the Coast Path from Abergele, past Lladdulas and around Colwyn Bay and Rhos Point

I could hear a Chaffinch singing so diverted from the main track here along one made by sheep to try to find him. It wasn’t long before I spotted him in a hawthorn tree preening himself and intermittently responding to the song of another male somewhere nearby.

Male Chaffinch singing and preening

Ground Ivy

The track continues upwards towards the top waymarked Wales Coast Path and North Wales Path

One of the reasons for taking this walk today was to check up on the Cormorants that nest on the sea cliffs of the headland. I wouldn’t recommend making this diversion to the cliff edge if you have children or a dog not on a lead with you, or if you are of a nervous disposition as to get a good view of the birds you do have to go carefully down a slope which has no barrier between its edge and the drop down. It was windy today too, as you can see by the ruffled sea.

A ewe with her lamb on the slope of the cliff edge

There are large numbers of Cormorants here all year round and in Welsh the bird is known as ‘llanc llandudno’. I’m sure they have nest sites all around the headland, but this is the only one I know of that is reasonably visible from the cliffs. The limestone rock is smooth and sheer so it is amazing that the Cormorants, quite large birds, find safe places to site their nests here.

A view of the nest site on the almost-sheer cliff face

An overview of the nest site on the almost-sheer cliff face

There are three areas the birds are gathered in, an area at the top, a middle section and a few on a shelf quite near the bottom.

A closer view of the area most of the birds were gathered in

A closer view of the top-level area some of the birds were gathered in

A few birds wwere sitting on nests while others, probably males, sat with their backs to the sea

A few birds were sitting on nests while others sat with their backs to the sea

Cormorants sitting against the cliff with backs to the sea

A pair of birds nesting amongst wild cabbage plants

Another pair on a sloping rocky ledge

Cormorant flying past cliff

Fascinating as the Cormorants were, it was chilly here on the windy cliff, so I went back up and along the cliff edge to the part below the summit which was sheltered from the wind and from where there are stunning views across the bay to Llandudno’s Victoria Pier and Little Orme’s big brother, the Great Orme. In the background is the Isle of Anglesey.This view shows the route of the ongoing Coast Path around Llandudno Bay.

Panoramic view of Llandudno, the pier and Great Orme with Anglesey in the background (click to enlarge)

Cormorants race past and Herring Gulls are always to be seen flying or gliding around this part of the cliff, and there is occasionally a Kestrel, but today I was surprised to see two Buzzards flying out over the sea and a Sparrowhawk flying in and heading towards the Great Orme.

The ongoing Coast Path passes around Llandudno and on to Deganwy and Conwy

It is possible to go up a little further to reach the trig point on the summit but the views are no better from there so I don’t often get that far and turn around to go back the way I came. If you were following the Coast Path though you would follow the track that takes you down to rejoin the main road at Craigside and continue towards Llandudno.

Bird Study: Cormorant

24 Monday Oct 2011

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

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coastal birds, Cormorant, phalacrocorax carbo

Cormorants are breeding residents here and since I arrived in July sightings of the birds flying or swimming in the sea have been consistently frequent, but in recent weeks their numbers have increased manyfold. Numbers of them now joined the ranks of oystercatchers and gulls that line the sea-edge as the tide comes in, and they can be spotted on the rocks of the harbour breakwater and perched on top of available posts. There are almost always a few to be seen on the lower reaches of the Little Orme, but now there are many, their black forms punctuating the pale limestone.

Cormorant – Phalacrocorax carbo

Scientific name from: Greek: phalakros=bald + korax=the raven and Latin: carbo=charcoal

Common name: definitions of ‘Cormorant’

(n.) A voracious eater; a glutton, or gluttonous servant.
(n.) Any species of Phalacrocorax, a genus of sea birds having a sac under the beak. Cormorants devour fish voraciously, and have become the emblem of gluttony. They are generally black, and hence are also called sea ravens, and coalgeese.

The Cormorant's flight is strong and purposeful

A large and conspicuous waterbird, the cormorant has an almost primitive look about it.Its long neck makes it appear almost reptilian, particularly when swimming with the bulk of its body submerged.

Some of the Cormorants dotted across the base of the Little Orme

Cormorants are coastal rather than oceanic birds, and many have colonised inland waters – in fact the original ancestor of cormorants seems to have been a fresh-water bird, judging from the habitat of the most ancient lineage. They range around the world, except for the central Pacific islands.

All are fish-eaters, feeding mainly on small eels and flat fish. They dive from the surface of the water. All four toes on each foot are webbed which aids them in swimming and in pursuing fish underwater.

Cormorants are supreme fishers which can bring them into conflict with anglers and they have been persecuted in the past, although some enterprising Japanese and Chinese fishermen employ the bird’s expertise to assist them, training one species of the birds to dive and catch fish for them.

A juvenile Cormorant with partial paler underparts still present.

The birds are often seen standing with their wings held out to dry and the reason for that is a bit of a mystery and the focus of study. It seems strange that a bird that spends much of its time in the water should need to dry their plumage and all cormorants have preen gland secretions that are used ostensibly to keep the feathers waterproof. It has been variously stated that cormorants have waterproof feathers; they have water permeable feathers; that the outer plumage absorbs water but does not permit it to penetrate the layer of air next to the skin; that it aids thermoregulation,digestion, balances the bird or indicates presence of fish. However, a detailed study of the Great Cormorant concludes that it is without doubt to dry the plumage. (extracts from article in Wikipaedia)

Male Cormorant in his full breeding plumage, wings outstretched. This is one of my favourite Cormorant photographs, I took it in Sotogrande, Spain earlier this year (Feb).

Click on the link for more photographs of Cormorants in Spain on my blog ‘Nightingale Trails’.

Cormorants in human culture

Cormorants feature quite commonly in heraldry and medieval ornamentation, usually in their “wing-drying” pose, which was seen as representing the Christian cross. For example, the Norwegian municipalities of Røst, Loppa and Skjervøyhave cormorants in their coat-of-arms. The species depicted in heraldry is most likely to be the Great Cormorant, the most familiar species in Europe.
In 1853, a woman wearing a dress made of cormorant feathers was found on San Nicolas Island, off the southern coast of California. She had sewn the feather dress together using whale sinews. She is known as the Lone Woman of San Nicolas and was later baptized “Juana Maria” (her original name is lost). The woman had lived alone on the island for 18 years before being rescued.
The bird has inspired numerous writers, including Amy Clampitt, who wrote a poem called “The Cormorant in its Element”.
The cormorant was the disguise used by Satan in Milton’s Paradise Lost. The cormorant was significant as a symbol of “true Life/ Thereby regain’d,” and was ironically used by Satan. Satan sat on top of the Tree of Life as a cormorant in his first attempt to deceive and tempt Eve.
There is a cormorant portrayed in the first of the fictional paintings by Jane Eyre in Charlotte Bronte’s novel, representing Blanche Ingram.
The mythical ‘Liver Bird’ symbol of Liverpool is commonly thought to be a cross between an eagle and a cormorant.