Waders v Weather

23 Wednesday Nov 2016

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

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Curlew, great black-backed gull, Oystercatcher, redshank, 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.

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 in Wales, migrant birds, mussel bed, Nature of Wales, nature photography, Rhos Point, Rhos-on-Sea, The Wales Coast Path, wading birds

≈ 23 Comments

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Cormorant, Crows on seashore, gavia stellata, mergus serrator, Oystercatcher, phalacrocorax carbo, red-breasted merganser, red-throated diver, redshank, 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.

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, Oystercatcher, 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

Bird study – Curlew

10 Monday Oct 2011

Posted by theresagreen in bird migration, Nature, nature photography, wading birds

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Tags

bird camouflage, 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.

Activity and new arrivals on the seashore

16 Friday Sep 2011

Posted by theresagreen in birds of the seashore, birdwatching on North Wales coast, Nature, Rhos-on-Sea

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cormorants flying, Oystercatcher, redshank, ringed plover, sandwich, Turnstone

The summer is rapidly coming to an end and many species of birds are on the move, some returning to their winter feeding grounds in this country, others flying in from the north and others taking off to return to the warmer regions of Southern Europe and Africa. During the past few weeks I have already noted that the numbers of Oystercatchers and Sandwich Terns have increased dramatically here at Rhos-on-Sea on the North Wales coast and that Curlews have become a regular sight foraging on the seashore.

24th August

There was a lot of activity on the seashore late in the afternoon as the tide turned. I’m not the best at counting large numbers of birds, especially when they’re mobile, but there are definitely several hundred Sandwich Terns here presently and even more Oystercatchers. Mixed flocks of the birds line up along the sea edge, moving closer inshore as the water encroaches the rocky beach.

24/8/11-Sandwich Terns and Oystercatchers line up expectantly along the sea edge as the tide comes in

The Terns are restless; there are a lot of to-ings and fro-ings between their various groups and occasionally a whole flock takes off in unison, only to return to the same spot seconds later. The Oystercatchers take little notice of their flighty companions and continue to wait or forage patiently.

24/8/11- Sandwich Terns take off in unison

24/8/11-Terns settling back down amongst Oystercatchers

I was content watching the Tern displays, then noticed a couple of other waders well-camouflaged against the greys and browns of the shore; the bright red legs that give the birds their name gave away Redshanks that had infiltrated the ranks of Oystercatchers. The proximity of the two species shows the contrast in size. The Redshanks were quite distant, but now I have seen them I hope for better views another time.

24/8/11-Redshanks amongst Oystercatchers

I was feeling pleased to have Redshank to add to my sightings list, then spotted two separate flocks of smallish birds fly in almost simultaneously and was delighted to witness the arrival of both Turnstones and Ringed Plovers. The individuals of both flocks landed on rocks at the sea edge that were surrounded by water, then stayed put for a few minutes before venturing on to the shore to forage. I estimated that there were around 20 birds in each flock.

24/8/11-Turnstones arrived with Ringed Plovers

24/8/11- Turnstone flock flying away

24/8/11-Cormorants flying toward the Little Orme, calling as they flew

24/8/11-Black-headed Gull flying

Birds to be seen currently on the shore at Rhos-on-Sea:

Cormorant – Phalacrocorax carbo, Oystercatcher – Haematopus ostralagus, Ringed Plover – Charadrius hiaticula, Turnstone – Arenaria interpres, Redshank – Tringa totanus, Curlew – Numenius arquata,Black-headed Gull – Larus ridibundus, Herring Gull – Larus argenatus, Lesser Black-backed Gull – Larus fuscus, Sandwich Tern – Sterna sandvicencis, Pied Wagtail – Motacilla alba, yarellii

Oystercatchers, and more on the seashore

21 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, Nature of Wales

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3-pronged Bristletail, birds of North Wales, birds on the seashore, large jellyfish, motacilla yarellii, Oystercatcher, oystercatchers flying, petrobius maritimus, Pied Wagtail, rhos-on-sea

28 April

I was leaving sunny Rhos-on-Sea to start heading back to rainy Spain this evening (with a few days in London first), so a last walk along the promenade and seashore was a must this morning. It was a good day to leave on, the morning was bright sunny and warmish, cooled by a bit of a breeze that made for a pleasant temperature for walking.

My first stop was at the rocky breakwater, where I was hoping there may be some birds foraging, but there were only Herring Gulls. As I was about to move on though I heard the familiar ‘tschissick’ call of a Pied Wagtail and one duly arrived, landing just a couple of metres away from me. I’d had a couple of previous sightings of the birds, around the golf course area and a male ‘singing’ from a rooftop, but this was a perfect view of a female. The male bird is all black above and has sooty-grey flanks; female is dark grey on mantle/back but has black crown, rump and uppertail-coverts. Slightly different in appearance to the race of Motacilla alba we see in Spain and the rest of Europe, this is Motacilla alba yarrellii that occurs in Britain and Ireland and locally on adjacent Continental coasts.

: Pied Wagtail – Motacilla alba yarrellii (female)

: A Carrion Crow flew down to forage on the newly exposed seashore

The tide was on its way out exposing a narrow strip of pebble beach, so I walked down to it via a concrete ramp to see if anything interesting may have been left by the receding sea. On the walls of the ramp, nicely warmed by the sun I noticed several little insect-things scuttling about, which on closer inspection turned out to be Bristletails – of the 3-Pronged variety.

: 3-pronged Bristletail – Petrobius maritimus

The insects belong to a primitive group of wingless insects (Apterygota) that are dependent on humid conditions. The 3-Pronged Bristletails belong to a small order ( Thysanura), all the members of which have 3 ‘tails’, comprising 2 cerci and a central projection known as the epiproct. The most familiar member of the group is the Silverfish. I am open to correction on this, but from my research and based on their location I am assuming the ones I saw to bePetrobius maritimus:

Description: A slender brown insect, up to 15mm long, with antennae that are almost as long as the body. Central ‘tail’ distinctly longer than the 2 side tails. Habitat: Close to high watermark on rocky coasts and short distance inland in crevices. Status and distribution: Common and locally common throughout in suitable habitats.

I’ve seen very similar-looking insects to this on our covered terrace walls in Spain, but we are a kilometre or so inland from the sea, so perhaps we were closer once upon a time and they got marooned and have adapted. I must try to find one and compare them.

Reaching the beach I disturbed a group of Herring Gulls that had been foraging on the sea edge. They flew up and began circling around, voicing their objection loudly and their proximity gave me a moment of anxiety as I visualised a scene from Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’. Then it occurred to me that they may have been alarmed by my long camera lens, so if they thought it may be a gun I was quite safe from attack. Phew.

I was soon distracted by birds I had been hoping to see, a number of Oystercatchers, very handsome in their immaculate black and white plumage, were standing on rocks at the sea edge looking down at the receding water and anything edible it may be leaving behind.

Oystercatcher – Haematopus ostralegus

: Oystercatchers waiting for the tide to go out

: The birds’ comings and goings gave the opportunity to see their outstretched wings

: The birds grouped together to await a feeding opportunity

: A few minutes later the birds began to venture into the shallow receding water

: A bird probing the sea bed

: The back of an Oystercatcher flying away, showing white rump and black tail-band

I became absorbed by the sight and was enjoying my close-up views of the birds, so the arrival of a man with his dog startled me. He stopped to chat to me and I told him I was watching the Oystercatchers – the camera with a big lens may have given him a clue I was taking photographs too, but he carried on walking straight towards them anyway. Needless to say they all took off to look for somewhere more peaceful.

: Oystercatchers flying away

The expansive mussel beds located here attract large numbers of Oystercatchers, although they also feed on cockles, limpets, small crabs, shrimps and worms. Breeding takes place after the wintering flocks have broken up, in mid-April in the south and May or June further north.

I turned to retrace my steps up to the promenade, almost stepping on this huge stranded lump of a jellyfish.

: A stranded jellyfish – the only big one I know is a Portugese Man o’ War, but I’m not sure what this is . I don’t imagine the hot sun would do it much good.

: Common limpets- Patella vulgata and an edible periwinkle- Littorina littorea

: Pebble beach

Rhos-on-Sea, the seashore & some local history

21 Sunday Aug 2011

Posted by theresagreen in Nature, Nature of Wales, nature of woodlands

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birds of North Wales, lesser black-backed gull, mussel beds, mussel beds of Rhos-on-sea, Oystercatcher, rhos on sea, sandwich tern, St.Trillo's chapel

CAPEL SANT TRILLO – ST. TRILLO’S CHAPEL, RHOS-ON-SEA

I had taken a few walks down to the promenade and seashore without realising I was within a few feet of this charming little chapel.

This intriguing building is thought to be the smallest church in The British Isles, seating only 6 people. It is names after St.Trillo, the 6th century Celtic saint who built his cell here.

The chapel has seating for just six people

The chapel is built on the site of an ancient spring.This provided the saint with his supply of drinking water and would have been an important factor for him picking this site.The well can still be seen in front of the altar. For centuries this well provided water for baptisms all over the extensive medieval parish of Llandrillo.In times gone by it also had a long tradition of being a healing well. Communion services are still held in the chapel. It is humbling to think that you are standing on a site that has been a site of Christian worship for nearly 1500 years!

Celtic monks usually built an enclosure around their cell so that they could farm to feed themselves. This was known as a “Llan” and Rhos means marsh, so Llandrillo-yn-Rhos, the Welsh name for Rhos-on-Sea, means St. Trillo’s enclosure by the marsh, as the surrounding area was originally very marshy. Thus St. Trillo gave his name to today’s village.

Rhos Fynach Fishing Weir

Close by the chapel, at low tide you can see the remains of the foundations of the medieval Rhos Fynach Fishing Weir, one of many once found round the Welsh coastline. There used to be two fishing weirs at Rhos. They consisted of a large V-shaped enclosure made out of wicker fencing. At high tide the fish swam into the structure, and were then trapped in a pool as the tide went out. Weirs such as these were so effective that by Victorian times they were a danger to fishing stocks, particularly salmon. Therefore in 1861 Parliament passed a law ordering their destruction. As a result the other weir in Rhos was demolished. However the new law granted an exemption where the owner could prove his weir had existed before the time of Magna Carta (1215 AD). The owner of this Rhos Fynach weir was able to prove its medieval origins to the satisfaction of the Commissioners, and so it escaped destruction – further evidence of the antiquity of the settlement at Rhos.

Mussel beds, rock pools & birds

Rhos Point is a promontory on the North Wales Coast that marks the east point of Penrhyn Bay and the west point of Colwyn Bay. Battered by the Irish Sea it can appear a barren landscape but there is an abundance of wildlife to be found there. At varying times, ringed plover, cormorants, turnstones, oystercatchers, curlews, red shanks, dunlins, and purple sandpipers may all be observed; the hours either side of high tide can be the best time to view the birds, as it concentrates them closer to the shore.

I have seen Sandwich Terns in varying numbers most days since I’ve been here, but over the Easter weekend the numbers were high. I don’t know enough about the local area to be sure why they are here, but I suspect they are gathering and feeding before setting off to their breeding ground. Again, I can’t be sure, but I do know a colony breeds at Cemlyn Bay, on the north west coast of Anglesey, which is not that far away.

My photographs are not brilliant as the birds were a good distance away on the edge of the shore at low tide, but it’s was good to see them in such numbers and in their summer breeding plumage; in Spain I see small numbers of the birds during the winter months on the local coasts and around the Guadiaro Estuary, when they are in their winter plumage. (see ‘pages’)

Sandwich Tern – Sterna sandvicensis

This is a medium-large tern, 37–43 cm (15–17 in) long with an 85–97 cm (33–38 in) wingspan, which is unlikely to be confused within most of its range.

The Sandwich Tern’s thin sharp bill is black with a yellow tip. Its short legs are black. Its upperwings are pale grey and its underparts white, and this tern looks very pale in flight, although the primary flight feathers darken during the summer.

In winter, the adult Sandwich Tern’s forehead becomes white. Juvenile Sandwich Terns have dark tips to their tails, and a scaly appearance on their back and wings.

The Sandwich Tern is a vocal bird; its call is a characteristic loud grating kear-ik or kerr ink.

Mussel beds

The main attraction for birds to this part of the coast is its extensive mussel seed beds, best appreciated at low tide.

Shells of the edible mussel – mytilus edulis

It’s a strange feeling crunching over the shells of millions of mussels as you walk, but that’s the only way to discover what may have been left behind in the rock pools at low tide.

everyday nature trails

Tag Archives: Oystercatcher

Waders v Weather

Catchers, a Duck and Divers

Birds by the sea

Waiting for the tide to turn