Male western marsh harrier – photo by Konni Selonke from Pixabay
Spurred on by memories of a previous visit, and consulting both weather forecast and tide times, I choose the perfect day for a late autumn birdwatch – target species marsh harrier, hen harrier and short-eared owl – at Parkgate. The sun is shining, there are few clouds in the sky and visibility is great.
The view from The Old Baths car park
As usual, I park in the Old Baths car park but don’t linger there, preferring instead to walk the length of The Parade, past white-painted houses, and the famous ice-cream parlour and chippy. Almost the first bird I see is a male marsh harrier hunting over the marsh. He flies low over the reedbeds, then banks, belly almost brushing against the reed tops, then up and into a brief hover before setting off again, sweeping the length of The Parade and back again. He is quite close in, seemingly unbothered by the cars and lorries rumbling past. Another bird not bothered by human habitation – in fact, making use of it – is the juvenile kestrel perched next to the chimneys on one of the houses, preening in the sun, planning its next foray. A number of kestrels are out hunting today, hovering gracefully over the marsh at various points along the route.
Every house should have its own kestrel
There are reed bunting ‘teuing’ back and forth and stonechat perched atop vegetation. Various ducks and gulls loiter around the pools of brackish water – although the tide is at its highest, it will not reach the wall today, unlike other Novembers. Egrets – little and great – stand poised to lunge and stab any unwary fish or frog. Flocks of lapwings mill about, their unearthly cries filling the air; pink-footed geese ‘wink-wink’ continuously as they move from one feeding place to another, driven by the tide; starlings twist and turn in unison – although the big murmurations happen at dusk. There is birdlife everywhere and with it comes hope: that maybe some creatures in some places are thriving.
The view from The Parade Parkgate
Reaching the end of The Parade, I turn inland to walk through an estate of attractive houses before coming to the Neston reedbed footpath – which is labelled ‘out of bounds’, so I have to take a left along the road and then a right onto a very narrow, winding country lane with no pavement or indeed verge on either side. Birds are forgotten as I stride along, fingers crossed that there aren’t any racing drivers out today. The unexpected detour proves a good one, though, as, flying around farm fields near the marsh, twite are calling. They are in decline nationally (red listed, in fact), and I haven’t seen any so far this year, so it is a lovely encounter in more ways than one and I stand watching them flit from treetop to treetop, twittering as they go. They do love saltmarsh and coastal fields, so they are in their element here!
Twite (female) – photo MPF, CC BY-SA 3.0 httpcreativecommons.orglicensesby-sa3.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Lingering at the marsh again to scan for hen harriers or short-eared owls (none today for me although they had been seen earlier), I am delighted to be serenaded by a rather squeaky Cetti’s warbler lurking in the bushes.
On my way back, as I re-join the footpath that leads to The Parade, I walk through a low cloud of ivy mining bees buzzing around a wall covered with their namesake plant, which is hanging heavy with flowers and the thick smell of pheromones. They are one of the last bees to still be on the wing, so seeing them in November isn’t unusual, but, coupled with the very mild weather, it is worrying in terms of climate change. A warm late autumn day is one thing, but a run of them is something else entirely.
A single raven heading across the marsh towards Wales, broad black back a shimmer of silver in the dazzling autumn sunshine diverts me from these concerns for now, and I head for the car park, lunch, and a rifle through the books in the charity shops of Heswall.
Attractive stained-glass window at The Boathouse pub