Winter Promenades

22 Monday Jan 2018

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, birdwatching on North Wales coast, coastal walks in Wales, Nature of Wales, North Wales, Rhos Point, Wales Coast Path

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Tags

birds of conservation concern, black-headed gull changing plumage, Curlew, dunlin, dunnock, overwintering birds, purple sandpiper, Rhos Point, ringed plover, Robin, rock pipit, winter wildflowers

January 2nd 2018

The Promenade runs unbroken from Old Colwyn at one end to Penrhyn Bay at the other, following the contours of Colwyn Bay, Rhos Point and the seashore of the aforementioned Penrhyn Bay. It is well-used, particularly so in the warmer seasons and weekends, but also on sunny days throughtout the year; it’s also a part of the Wales Coast Path and is both a walking and a cycling route. The section I walk most often these days starts close to the tiny St.Trillo’s chapel, passes Rhos Point and continues into Rhos on Sea village.

St Trillo’s Chapel, Rhos-on-Sea

This strip of coastline is fascinating. The Promenade and the busy road that runs alongside it form a corridor between land claimed for human habitation, travel and recreation and a rugged seashore and mussel bed, regularly washed over by the Irish Sea, that provides for a variety of species of wildlife, including large numbers of over-wintering wading birds. There is also an interesting ‘cross-over’ by some birds that have learnt to utilise the opportunities offered on both sides of the corridor.

This morning I’d visited my daughter & grandchildren who live just a couple of hundred metres from the Prom and I thought while I was this close I’d check up quickly on a very special winter visitor – a Purple Sandpiper. I knew there was one here as I’d found it in the same spot on the rocks frequented by one lone individual last winter. (I posted about it earlier last year as The Lonely Purple Sandpiper.) The times whilst the tide is high and for a short while as it begins to go out again are the best times to get close-up views of them.

23/12/17-1432-Purple sandpiper

Walking down the slope near the chapel I couldn’t fail to notice a huge photographic lens fitted to a camera on a tripod angled down onto the rocks below, with a man standing behind it. I guessed all would be aimed at the Purple sandpiper, and so it was, but rather than there being the one bird I’d expected to see, there were six. Four were out in the open, tucked up and fast asleep, but the photographer said there were at least two more a bit lower down behind rocks. These lovely little winter visitors are famous and people travel here from miles around in hope of seeing them. This guy had come from Wigan and here on his third visit in recent weeks to attempt to see them. There was no way he was leaving until he’d got shots of them doing something more interesting. He was also willing the sun to come out to light them up better against the dark rocks. You really do have to catch these birds at high tide when they rest up on the rocks of the rip-rap, as once the tide goes out, so do they and you’ve lost them.

2/01/18-1105-Rhos Point-Purple Sandpipers

Great Crested Grebes regularly cruise the bay and there was one out there now. Although not appearing to be travelling at speed, they are tricky to catch an image of; you just get them in focus and they dive. I get a lot of images of empty sea. They can travel good distances underwater in pursuit of fish so you can’t predict where they’ll pop up again.

Following last night’s Super Moon, there was a Spring Tide this morning, at its highest at 10:40am (the Spring Tides are the highest ones). It was windy here as it is at most high tides, but not blowing in across the sea, so its surface was barely rippled. At just past 12 noon, the water was beginning to recede but it would be a while before the sandpipers responded and became active; they’re used to arctic conditons, but it was way too cold for me to stand still. I wondered about the lone bird I’d seen before Christmas. Was it now part of this little group? Surely it was, but I walked the short distance along to where I’d seen it before to make certain. No sign of it, but I did see the biggest jellyfish I’ve ever seen stranded on top of a rock by the tide. It looked a bit battered but don’t know how you tell a live one from a dead one when they’re out of the water.

I walked as far as the steep concrete steps that go down to the shore that are becoming increasingly smoother and their edges more rounded year on year. They were wet right to the top showing how high the water level must have reached earlier on.

Now I’d seen the Sandpipers and knowing I could come back and see them again I thought I’d get into my car out of the cold and go home. But then there might be more to see, I was here now and at least it wasn’t raining like it was yesterday. I also had the luxury of being able to walk here without a grandchild in a pram as I often do, so could stop as often as I liked without protest from a little companion. I walked on towards the village.

It’s not only birds that have ‘crossed-over’ to the wild side of the road. The huge, predominantly limestone rocks of the rip-rap support an increasing variety of plants too. They are mostly garden escapes such as buddleiah and michaelmas daisies and just past the chapel is a bushy shrub. This established bush is sometimes full of one of the local House sparrow tribes adding their cheerful chirping to the more expected sounds of the seashore. There are often House sparrows foraging amongst the rocks of the seashore, especially when they’re nesting and have young to feed. They come after it’s rained too, to drink from small pools of fresh water briefly held by the limestone rip rap.

1/10/17-Rhos Point-A bush full of House sparrows

The bush has shed its leaves now and there were no sparrows today. Someone has put up a bird feeder filled with nuts, maybe for them or maybe for the Robin that is also often around here.

The sea had begun to recede here on the Point, so I began to walk down the ramp to see if any birds had arrived to forage in its wake and was surprised by a Dunnock that popped out from the base of the bush.

2/1/18-1218-Rhos Point-Dunnock

It moved back down to the rocks beneath

and was joined by a Robin.

The big patch of Winter Heliotrope on the grassy embankment is flowering prolifically now as it has been since last December. This is another plant that started out as a garden plant that escaped and is now also accepted as a wildflower. It’s widespread around the village but this location, facing straight out to sea is not its usual habitat; it’s supposed to go for damp shady places, often under trees. It is thriving here though, this patch is now huge. It’s perhaps not the most beautiful of plants, but it’s a joy to see anything in flower at this time of year and the flowers have a delicious scent, heliotrope is widely used in the perfume industry, but you have to get down to their level to check that out!

Winter heliotrope –

Round about this spot I’d seen a little party of Ringed Plovers on Christmas Eve, when walking into the village with my own family party. There’d been a group of about 15 gathered on the rocks waiting for the tide to turn (birds that is, not family members). No sign of them now, so this is an image I got that day.

24/12/17-Rhos Point-Ringed Plovers

There was a single Dunlin there then too, resting with its head tucked under its wing just peeping out to check it was safe to carry on napping.

24/12/17-Rhos Point-Dunlin

Reaching the harbour the calm appearance of the sea belied the fact that it was actually quite windy and with no sunshine still really cold, not a day for sustained birdwatching from one spot. I loved the view though in these misty muted winter shades.

The harbour wall provides the perfect place for birds the sit out the high tides to wait close by for that magical moment when as it recedes it reaches the perfect point for them to make the short flight back to the shore. There are always oystercatchers and often gulls and a crow or two. A couple seeking shelter from the biting cold against a wall were viewing it with binoculars; they’d seen Ringed Plovers there too. At the far end sat a group of Cormorants; in my photograph you can see Colwyn Bay’s sadly dilapidated Victoria Pier behind them.

Across the road is the park which has a children’s play area, a good old-fashioned paddling pool, empty now of course and open grassy areas that is currently wet and muddy, perfect for blackbirds, thrushes and starlings digging for worms. Here with my slightly bigger granddaughter a few days ago there were two Mistle thrushes in addition to today’s blackbirds and starlings.

Starling – juvenile

I watched a Black-headed gull, its head is just beginning to show the beginnings of darkening to the chocolate-brown of the birds breeding plumage. It too was digging successfully for worms in the soft mud. I like these neat little gulls with their red bills and legs.

Black-headed gull

Heading back down the slope to walk back I was pleased to see a rock Pipit hopping and flitting between the rocks and the Prom edge before disappearing into plants on the grassy embankment

2/1/18-Rock Pipit

A Robin popped up too – maybe the one I’d seen earlier further along by the bush. He/she was quite likely warning off the Rock Pipit.

2/1/18-Rhos Point-Robin

Daisies are flowering, only a few bravely showing their faces, but a reminder that despite their dainty fragile looks they are as tough as old boots!

2/1/18-Rhos Point-Daisy

Canny Crows are frequent visitors to the rocky shore and search amongst the rocks for anything edible from scraps of left-over food left by visitors to accessible shellfish.

This one had found the remains of a sizeable crab and that look in its eye says it wasn’t about to share it!

The tide was a little further out now and oystercatchers were beginning to arrive back. They didn’t begin foraging though, instead they quickly settled and resumed their rests.

The two in the pictures below have pointed beaks so would probably be waiting for the softer ground to be revealed in which they probe for their food. Those that hammer away at shellfish have bills that are blunter and more squared off.

The people with the binoculars told me they’d come down here via Penrhyn Bay where it was apparently even colder than here. They reported seeing a Grey plover there on one of the breakwaters, so I decided to go that way home and stop and have a look. I didn’t hold out much hope of seeing anything without binoculars and had no idea which breakwater it might have been on either. It was definitely colder here, and I was not going to hang about, but I was really pleased to discover that this is where the Redshanks come to roost between tides! I’ve often wondered where they go and here they were; dozens of them tucked up in the shelter of the rocks.

Seeing the Redshanks still waiting for the signal to make their move back to the Point made me hope that Curlews would also be in the field they frequent when not on the seashore. They were! And they come with the added bonus that you can stop on the roadside and watch them from inside your car. The brambly hedge on the field boundary gets in the way of the camera lens somewhat, and they were a distance away, but in this setting they are a wonderful sight.

Curlew bathing

Curlews are Back in the Field

05 Saturday Aug 2017

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

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Tags

Afon Ganol, Curlew, curlew flock

July 17th

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

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

17th July 2017-Curlews and cows

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

February 2017-Sharing with sheep

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

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

Curlew resting, preening & bathing

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

Heading back to the shore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Waders v Weather

23 Wednesday Nov 2016

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

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Tags

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

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

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

12:51 – Curlews begin to leave.

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

Herring gull, Oystercatchers, Turnstones and Redshanks

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

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

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

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

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

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

13:00 –

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

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

Turnstone rock- hopping to higher ground

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

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

13:12

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

But the turnstones stay put, despite the rising water

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

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

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

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

and are the last birds standing.

13:45- The water has covered the Point.

13:46

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

13:50

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

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

Birds by the sea

02 Saturday Jul 2016

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

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

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

June 20th-Rhos Point

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

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

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

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

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

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

160620-Rhos Point 1339b-Oystercatcher with blunt beak

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The curlew is the largest European wading bird, instantly recognisable on winter estuaries or summer moors by its long, downcurved bill, brown upperparts, long legs and evocative call.

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

13.48- A Herring gull arrived to join the party.

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

The terns also settled down to preen.

13.59- A Cormorant flew past at speed.

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

Waiting for the tide to turn

19 Sunday Jan 2014

Posted by theresagreen in Birds, birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature of Wales, nature photography, North Wales

≈ 14 Comments

Tags

birds on the seashore, Curlew, dunlin, Oystercatcher, purple sandpiper, rhos on sea, ringed plover, Turnstone, wading birds

Several months and a whole season have come and gone since I posted anything on this blog. It’s been a sad time for me and all of my family as my beloved Dad reached the end of a very long life last September. He was the one that noticed and encouraged my early interests in the nature around us and taught me the names of common wildflowers, butterflies and most particularly birds. He didn’t claim to know everything, but more importantly he gave me the gift of noticing what was there and the encouragement to find information I wanted for myself. He never really got the concept of blogs, or indeed anything to do with computers, but was always interested to hear what I had seen and where I’d been, particularly about the places here in North Wales that he took my sisters and me to spend time in when we were young. Some of those places have remained very special to me and I’m sure that when I visit them, that’s where I’ll always find him.

______________________________________________________________________________

Thank you all for your patience and sticking with me and thank you to new readers that have signed up who must be wondering where I’d disappeared to. While Dad was ill I was spending a lot of time down in my old haunts in Northamptonshire, where my sisters still live, and it was reassuringly familiar and not too greatly changed in the decades I’ve been away. I may do a post or two about our walks there if I am unable to come up with anything more current, but for the time being the so-far mild winter is giving me plenty of opportunity to get out and ideas for posts, starting with this one about the wading birds that are about now on our local rocky seashore.

2nd January 2104

A brilliantly sunny day winkled me out of my cosy shell this morning and I set off, camera to hand to see what I could see from the promenade. I realised I had lost track of the ebb and flow of the tides and had no idea of its current state, so was initially quite disappointed to see that it was fully in and very high. That meant there would be no waders to be seen picking their ways through the rocks that strew the shoreline of Rhos Point pecking and probing the muddy sand in search of food. But I’d made the effort to get myself out and I wasn’t about to go home with nothing, so I thought I’d at least walk for a way for some much-needed exercise and if nothing else there may be a Rock Pipit or two on the rocks or the sea wall. The sea was as blue as the sky and ruffled by what I was feeling as a bitingly cold breeze. I hadn’t walked far when I noticed a largish bird swimming around on the water, meandering randomly and frequently diving and disappearing under the surface for minutes at a time.

Podiceps Cristatus-Great Crested Grebe

Needless to say, I hadn’t picked up my binoculars and couldn’t properly see what I was looking at, even with the assistance of the camera lens, but from its general ‘giz’, and the fact I’ve seen them here in previous years, I decided it was most likely a Great Crested Grebe. It wasn’t alone either, although individuals were spread quite widely apart, at one time I counted ten of them. I could not get a decent image of any one of them though, so this one is a token effort to verify the sighting!

” In winter, Great Crested Grebes show a marked shift from inland waters to the sea, although on the continent large numbers remain on inland lakes, e.g. in Switzerland (Cramp 1977). In normal winters, Britain and Ireland receive birds from continental western Europe. During severe winter weather, birds move through Britain in search of milder conditions either to the west in Ireland, or southwards to France (Lack 1986).” http://jncc.defra.gov.uk/pdf/UKSPA/UKSPA-A6-4B.pdf

High tide- sea flooding steps

I walked quite a distance towards Penrhyn Bay, stopping now and then to try to get a better image of a Grebe. I spotted one a little further in and got a slightly better view from the top of a set of steps that lead down to the beach. You get an idea of how far the water reaches regularly as the bottom treads are worn smooth by the repetitive scouring of salty waves climbing them and retreating with some force.

I wasn’t enjoying walking into the cold wind so I turned around and walked back, but carrying on towards the village. Just past the tiny St. Trillo’s Chapel I caught a glimpse of a bird flying down on to the big rocks below the promenade; a Turnstone. It landed out of eyesight, hidden amongst the huge boulders, but as I searched for it, up it popped onto a rock very close by.

Turnstone-Arenaria interpres

Turnstones are common winter visitors to all our British coasts and gather in the greatest numbers on rocky and stony beaches, as here in Rhos-on-Sea. I was very happy to see it, as they are perhaps my favourite small wading bird, and because they are rarely alone I was confident there would be more to see.

Why stand when you can sit

In previous years I have seen small groups of mixed species of waders on the rocks here, so I was hopeful there would be more to see. I didn’t have to go far before spotting another little group waiting for the tide to turn and leave their lunch, this time Ringed Plover and Dunlin.

Ringed Plovers and Dunlin watching the water

Ringed Plover- Charadrius hiaticula

Ringed Plovers are amongst the most common of our shore birds, although the increase in building in seaside localities and our intrusion onto beaches that were once remote, where they traditionally used to breed, have taken their toll on populations.

Ringed Plovers

A Dunlin & a Turnstone together shows the size difference between them

Dunlin are amongst the smallest of our shore birds. Some are present in Britain all year round, and as with Curlews, they winter on coasts and breed mainly on upland moors. Numbers are swelled when sizeable flocks come for the winter.

Dunlin-Calidris alpina

Dunlin were known to wildfowlers of old by a diverse variety of names, including ox-bird, ploverspage, sea snipe and stint.

Dunlin flying in to land

Dunlin, Ringed Plovers & Turnstones

As I watched them I had to wonder how these birds know when the tide is about to turn? It’s definitely not just a lucky guess! When I first began to watch them they were all quite still and quiet, but then in a heartbeat something changed and they became suddenly more animated. Up till that moment they had ignored the close proximity of people walking and me pointing a camera at them, but now people passing by with a dog or cyclists triggered off the Dunlin and Plovers and theytook off as one in a tight little flock out over the sea towards the harbour breakwater, then looped back, showering down to land a few feet further along the rocks. The Turnstones woke up too and were the first to venture nearer to the water, ready to get down onto the first uncovered patches of sand.

As the tide’s turning became more imminent, Oystercatchers began to arrive. They too had been waiting, but a bit further away on top of the harbour breakwater alongside the herring gulls.

Oystercatchers lined up along the harbour breakwater

Most of the Oystercatchers headed straight out to the far end of the Point, but a few chose to join the Turnstones, Dunlins and Plovers. Oystercatchers are the most numerous and conspicuous of the waders here and are a familiar sight on the mussel beds, on the rocky shorelines and in small groups flying low across the sea. They are noisy and gregarious and wonderful, but usually some distance away, so it was lovely to get this opportunity to see them more closely for a while.

Oystercatcher flying in to land

Oystercatcher about to land

Landed and waiting for the perfect moment to begin the hunt for food

Joined by another

The shrill calls of the Oystercatchers often ring out from where they spend most of their time feeding or as they fly, but I hadn’t realised they also use it to greet other birds. I watched and listened, fascinated, as a pair performed a little greeting ritual in front of me.

A noisy and demonstrative reunion

Their performance reminded me of the Herring Gull pair that raised their family on our roof last year and involved ‘bowing’ to one another, beaks open and pointed towards the ground whilst emitting their shrill call, rather ear-piercing at this distance. I am assuming they were a mating pair, and that is something else that is mind boggling; how on earth do they recognise one another in a crowd?

Turnstones are the first of the small waders onto the shore

The magical moment arrived when the sea had retreated just enough to expose small patches of the seabed. The larger Oystercatchers were first in, followed closely by the Turnstones, then the smaller Dunlin and Ringed Plovers, once they were confident they wouldn’t be caught out by a rogue returning wave with nowhere to run to.

The tide comes in and goes out quickly and by the time I turned to walk back much of the rocky shore of the Point was revealed and already heavily sprinkled with Oystercatchers.

Oystercatchers as I most often see them, spread out at the far end of the seashore

I hadn’t noticed any Curlew fly in, but hearing one I looked more closely and caught sight of one that had just picked up something to eat, very closely observed by a couple of Oystercatchers, who are certainly not averse to stealing should another take its eye off its prize.

A supremely well-camouglaged Curlew with food-Oystercatchers homing in

A curlew with food watched by Oystercatchers

The Curlew watched closely by Oystercatchers

*Missing from today’s tally of waders were Redshank, and Purple Sandpipers that I have seen previously together with Turnstones, Dunlin & Plovers. Click on link to post with more photographs.

Purple Sandpiper-Calidris maritima (January 2012)

And to finish, a young herring gull, to show they are often where they are supposed to be!

Juvenile herring gull

Evening on the Estuary

12 Sunday Feb 2012

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, nature photography

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Conwy castle, Conwy estuary, Curlew, estuary at low tide, shelduck

An evening walk alongside the Conwy Estuary. The sun was low in a cloudy sky, it was very cold and the tide was fully out exposing the wonderful contours and textures of the river bottom. A few pools of shallow water remained and the only birds to be seen were a very few Curlew and a pair of Shelduck.

Shelduck

Contours and textures at low tide

A stalking Curlew blends easily into the estuary landscape

View upriver

Looking down the estuary towards the castle

Click on any of the images to enlarge them.

Bird study – Curlew

10 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, nature photography, wading birds

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

An aura of wildness surrounds the curlew perhaps more than any other wading bird. Its onomatopeoic, haunting cries ringing out across the lonely marshes and the tideways it inhabits embody the atmosphere of these often lonely and desolate places.

The curlew is the largest European wading bird, instantly recognisable on winter estuaries or summer moors by its long, downcurved bill, brown upperparts, long legs and evocative call.

Increasing numbers of Curlews have been present on the seashore at Rhos-on-Sea for a few weeks now, but I’ve been waiting to get some reasonable photographs before I wrote about them in more detail. There were several obstacles along the path to obtaining some clear images, not least of which was the fact that they are almost perfectly camouflaged within this rocky landscape, where brown is the predominant colour.

Despite their size, curlews blend perfectly into this landscape

BTO BIRDFACTS:

Curlew Numenius arquata [Linnaeus, 1758]

Order: Charadriiformes	Family: Scolopacidae
Number in Britain: 105 thousand pairs (Summer)
Conservation Status:
UK: AMBER
European: 2 Concern, most in Europe; Declining
Global: Near Threatened ( Details )

Curlews fly fast and low along the sea edge-in flight the white rump is very noticeable

Curlews glide smoothly and quietly through pools of water hunting for small invertebrates

The long curved beak enables the curlew to probe well under rocks

A curlew foraging peacefully alongside an oystercatcher

Breeding

In Great Britain the greatest numbers of breeding curlews are found here in North Wales, but a glance at a field guide will indicate the vast area occupied by the birds. Their range extends from this country east to the Urals and from Scandinavia and Russia in the north. This wide extent of habitats includes upland moors, grassy or boggy open areas in forests and damp grasslands and traditionally managed hayfields particularly in river valleys.

Autumn and winter

Directly after the nesting season the birds shift to marine coastal areas especially favouring mudflats and sands extensively exposed at low tide. Like most waders, at high water curlew form large roosts on either the highest saltings or on fields and marshes behind the sea walls. In some localities the birds move to nocturnal roosting spots at dusk, leaving again at dawn.

The curlew flock numbers several hundred. They roost in this field at the foot of Bryn Euryn, close to houses and a main road. They return at high tide too when they may be seen foraging in the field or standing quietly with their bills tucked under their wings.

When they are not foraging along the seashore here in Rhos-on-Sea the curlew flock surprisingly shares a field with cows, sheep and a couple of horses. Their choice of roost took me by surprise as the field is very close to a busy road, in total contrast to the deserted open spaces they are usually identified with.

When roosting the more dominant curlew tend to occupy the better sheltered areas within the assembly; birds at the front of flocks form closely packed ‘walls’ in high winds.

Coastal numbers build up from July and reach a peak in January and February. The resident UK population is boosted by incoming migrants to some 99,500–125-000 pairs.

Curlew from Scotland spend autumn and winter on the British west coast and in Ireland. Populations from Scandinavia, the former Baltic States and north-west Russia head south-westwards towards this country: each of international importance for wintering curlew, the four localities holding largest numbers are Morecombe Bay, the Solway, the Wash and the Dee. Others, remarkably, winter in Iceland and the Faroes. And yet others penetrate to the West African coast. Curlew are capable of migrating at remarkable altitudes, even crossing the Himalayas at a height of 20,000 feet.

Curlews foraging at sea edge

The Curlew in folklore

The curlew features strongly in folklore, often not too favourably.

To hear a curlew call is not good. If you hear it at night, it means that bad luck is coming, but if heard during the day it signifies the arrival of bad weather.

The curlew has always been a bird of bad omen to sailors who have seen them flying overhead and if you hearing their call means that a storm is brewing and its inadvisable to set sail for the open sea.

St Beuno and the Curlew

It is hard to find the nest of the curlew; this story from the folklore of North Wales, attributed to St Beuno offers an explanation for that.

When he lived at Clynnog St Beuno used to go regularly on Sundays to preach at Llanddwyn, off the coast of Anglesey, walking on the sea with the book of sermons, which he used to carry about with him. One Sunday, as he was coming back from Llanddwyn to Clynnog, treading the surface of the sea as if it had been dry land, he dropped his precious writings into the water, and failed to recover them. The saint was much worried, because even for saints the task of writing sermons is a troublesome one.

When he reached dry land he was much relieved to find his book on a stone out of the reach of the tide,with a curlew mounting guard over it. The pious bird had picked it up, and brought it to safety. Thereupon the holy man knelt down and prayed for the protection and favour of the Creator for the curlew. His
prayer was heard, and ever since it has been extremely difficult to discover where the long-beaked bird lays its eggs.

Rhos-on-Sea- seashore surprises

24 Wednesday Aug 2011

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, Nature, Nature of Wales

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Crow dropping shellfish onto rocks, Curlew, curlew on seashore, intelligent behaviour of crow, migrant hoverfly, rhos-on-sea

Walk from Penrhyn Bay to Abbey Road, Rhos-on-Sea

The beach of Penrhyn Bay is mostly made up of shingle, a hostile environment for plants, but some tough species have gained a hold there, spreading forward from the base of the sea wall.

24/7/11-Dock plants growing on the seashore with the Little Orme in the background

Shingle as a habitat

Shingle plants will begin to colonise above the high tide mark. Below this the moving pebbles will prevent any seedlings getting a stable hold. The plants that grow on the shingle usually have long and tough roots able to withstand the friction of the pebbles that will be disturbed by storms. Often referred to as a desert-like environment, plants like dock have water-retaining leaves that enable them to be one of the larger colonisers of this unique habitat, while smaller plants may be able to harness the water that collects on the surface of the pebbles.

: 24/7/11-Penrhyn Bay beach-Common Mallow growing on the shingle was attracting insects

: 24/7/11-Penrhyn Bay beach -a Migrant Hoverfly resting on a mallow leaf

I left the beach where the shingle gives way to the rocky shore of Rhos-on-Sea, keeping an eye on the beach from the promenade. A Black-headed Gull caught my attention and I stopped to have a closer look. The gull was standing on a patch of muddy sand and I was intrigued to see the tops of car tyres protruding above the sand behind it. The way they were placed seemed to be deliberate, so I wondered if they are being used to reinforce the sea-break or stabilise the sand? They must have been there for a good while as some have seaweed growing over them.

: 24/7/11-Black-headed Gull with tyres bedded in the sand behind it

Focusing my attention on the gull and the tyres, I had half-noticed a brownish coloured bird against the rocks behind them that I thought was a young Herring Gull. When I gave it proper attention I had a pleasant surprise; it was actually a wader, either a Whimbrel or a Curlew, that was foraging around the rocks, probing its long curved beak into the the muddy sand.It was so well camouflaged against the rocks it was difficult to keep track of it, but I got a better view when it spent a couple of minutes in a more open pool of water.

: 24/7/11-Curlew on the sea shore

: 27/7/11-The Curlew blended perfectly into its surroundings

The wader disappeared from sight amongst the rocks and I carried on with my walk. I didn’t get far before I stopped again to watch a Crow that was acting strangely, flying up into the air then diving down again. It took a few minutes to realise that what it was doing: it was searching for a shellfish, picking it up in its beak, flying up then dropping it onto the rocks hoping to break it and diving down after it.

: 24/7/11-The shellfish does not drop straight down, so the crow has to follow it quickly or lose sight of it.

: 24/7/11-The crow is surprisingly agile and turns quickly to make a steep dive

: 24/7/11-Diving Crow keeping its eyes on the landing position of its snack

There was quite a gap between each performance which I thought may have been either because the shellfish needed to be a particular size or species, or perhaps needed to be partially open, or simply that each mouthful obtained this way required so much effort – it may well take more than one drop to smash a shell. I was fascinated by their behaviour and very impressed with their ingenuity; clever things.

There were quite a few gulls about; Lesser Black-backed gulls, Herring gull adults and juveniles and a few more Black-headed gulls. Herring gulls frequently chase other birds they see flying with food in their bills, hoping to steal it if possible. During an interlude in the Crow entertainment I spotted a mottled brown and white bird that I took to be a juvenile Herring gull being chased by an adult; as it broke away and flew towards me I was surprised again to see that it was another Curlew carrying something quite large in its bill; a crab I think.

: 24/7/11-Curlew flying with food

The Curlew flew back along the sea edge towards Penrhyn Bay, landing a short distance away from me amongst a cluster of rocks. Watching it closely I could see other Curlews gathered there, difficult to count as they are very hard to see, but at least another three.

It’s amazing what you see sometimes when you don’t set out to look!

everyday nature trails

Tag Archives: Curlew

Winter Promenades

Curlews are Back in the Field

Waders v Weather

Birds by the sea

Waiting for the tide to turn

Evening on the Estuary