The Dee and Thereabouts

Category: North Wales

By Flint Castle

(Sunday 16^th August, 2026)

This morning, we were at the Dee Estuary over by Flint Castle, arriving just after low tide. In Flintshire this week, the mercury reached the mid-thirties so today’s low temperature of just 16°C made a nice change, especially with the barely perceptible wind from the north-west.

Flint Castle

    My knowledge of Flint Castle is very limited, which is a bit embarrassing considering that I live only a few miles away. However, I do know it’s where King Richard II surrendered to Henry Bolingbroke, who would later become King Henry IV. (Oddly, I first learnt about this when studying William Shakespeare’s Richard II in school, which was er…one or two years ago now!)

    Visibility was fair but the poor light seemed to project an atmospheric gloominess onto the castle and its surroundings. The castle does offer a wonderfully scenic backdrop to the estuary, though you’ll also find more modern edifices in the vicinity – the Flintshire Bridge which spans the Dee and the four distinctive chimneys of Connah’s Quay Power Station, for example. So, a marked combination of the old and the new!

The Flintshire Bridge and the four chimneys of Connah’s Quay Power Station

    There was a flock of Swallows (Hirundo rustica) flying low along a water channel on the marsh. (Though it’s difficult to pinpoint these channels accurately from the ground, you can follow their rising and falling contours along the marsh – possibly you’d have a much clearer view up on the ramparts of the castle, though I’m only guessing).The Swallows were evidently feeding on the wing and every now and then they would land on the ground to re-energise before taking to the air once again. They were quite far away from us – and very fast – so there’s not much detail in the photograph, but it was great to watch them.

The low-flying Swallows (top) went unnoticed by this chap (bottom)

    While we were watching this display, a Stonechat (Saxicola rubicola) alighted on a nearby Hawthorn bush. The orange breast, white collar and black head on the bird identified it as male. He stayed there for a moment or two before exploring the marshland a bit further out.

Stonechat

    Further inland from the estuary, we watched a Pied wagtail (Motacilla alba) as it scoured the short grass for spiders and insects, its tail bobbing up and down characteristically. As its name implies, the Pied wagtail’s markings are black, white and grey and it really is quite a lovely bird. This one was later joined by its mate.

Pied wagtail

    As we made our way back through the castle grounds, a Speckled wood butterfly (Pararge aegeria) landed on a leaf in front of us and paused to take a breather. It opened its wings to allow us a decent view, although I suppose it was really trying to warm up in the weak sunlight! Speckled woods have lovely cream-coloured spots which contrast with their otherwise dark brown colour. You can see the ‘eyes’ on the wings in the photograph – one on each forewing and three on each hindwing. These butterflies like damp areas and you’ll often see them in woods – they’re particularly noticeable along dappled areas where the sun peeps through, claiming shafts of sunlight as their ‘territory’.

Speckled wood

The important stuff

On the return journey, we called in at the café in Daleside Garden Centre, Hawarden, for a slice of Bakewell (Col) and Coffee and Walnut cake (Stu) with our cappuccinos. Marvellous!

21.08.2026
A Trickle of Water

(Sunday 26^th July)

Over to Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire this morning. A westerly wind blowed the odd gust but, as ever, we were pretty much sheltered down in the woods. The 16°C temperature was much cooler than it had been in the last few days, but there hadn’t been any rainfall for quite some time – in fact, North Wales had officially been declared as being in a drought only days earlier.

    The pond just beyond the old sluice gate was completely dried up and the exposed earth resembled crazy paving. Admittedly, this is just a shallow area of water – a ‘spillover’ if you like – and we quite often see insects such as dragonflies and damselflies roaming over it and, on occasion, a solitary Heron. But not today.

    Halfway across the stone bridge leading into the woods, we paused to look upstream: the River Alyn was still flowing reasonably well, but when we looked downstream, after just twenty or so metres, the river became a mere trickle of water before disappearing altogether. I should point out that the Alyn does naturally disappear underground at Loggerheads into the limestone swallow holes and caves before the river reappears further downstream, a phenomenon that is more noticeable during prolonged spells of dry weather in the summer months. But even taking this into account, this was the lowest we’d ever seen the Alyn at Loggerheads.

    We weren’t expecting to see much in the way of birds or wildlife at all, given the lowness of the river, to be honest. However, we often see White-throated dippers along this stretch of the river and we know they don’t tend to stray far from their habitat, so we crossed our fingers. We were in luck – before long we saw, perched on a rock mid-stream, a Dipper perform the familiar bobbing action that gives the bird its name. We watched for a while as the Dipper submerged itself in the water searching for food before it eventually flew off upstream.

White-throated Dipper

    Moments later, we were surprised to see three Grey wagtails – two adults with a much duller-coloured juvenile. When we were last here at Loggerheads six or seven weeks ago, there was the same family set-up – that is, two adults and one juvenile. Although Grey wagtails will carry on feeding their young and staying close by them after they leave the nest – monitoring their progress, if you like – this is typically for about two weeks. So, the juvenile that we saw back then should already have become independent and have had to find its own territory, which means that the juvenile we saw today is probably from the adults’ second brood.

Grey wagtail

    We carried on along the Leete path beyond the wooden ‘bat’ bridge (the bridge has a carving of a bat suspended above the centre of it). Looking down at where the river usually flows, we could see only the dry rock of the riverbed.

    There was a distinct absence of birdsong too, everywhere eerily quiet. This is probably due to many of the birds not wanting to draw the attention of predators as they go through their summer moult: replacing feathers compromises the birds’ ability to fly well, leaving them vulnerable. (Some birds, such as ducks, shed all their flight feathers at once, leaving them completely flightless for the three or four weeks it takes for them to be replaced).

The dried up River Alyn by the ‘bat’ bridge

    Besides the Grey wagtails and the Dipper, there were still one or two birds about today. We saw a couple of scruffy-looking Robins skipping through the undergrowth and we watched several Nuthatches darting from tree to tree. None of them made any noise though!

    The morning had remained largely overcast although under the protection of the trees this didn’t really matter. But now it started to rain. Well, it wasn’t really rain, which would have been very welcome, but more a thin spray of the faintest vapour which disappeared almost immediately.

The important stuff

Over to Tŷ’r Felin (The Mill House café) which has moved from the small room right next to the mill and now sits in the much larger area in one of the main buildings at the entrance to the park. We sat outside under the tree sipping our Cappuccinos and savouring the delights of a slice of Bara Brith, with full butter of course (Col), and a slice of Cherry Cake (Stu). Marvellous!

31.07.2026
Butterfly Highway

(Monday 6^th July – Friday 10^th July)

The UK once again recorded very high temperatures during this latest heatwave although it’s been even warmer in the rest of Europe. With Chief Photographer Stu currently away on holiday, this week’s blog is just a record of the butterflies and one or two other insects that have visited the garden.

Above: Peacock butterflies

    I’ve spent a lot of time venturing no further than the garden in this hot weather and this has turned out to be a good thing as I managed to photograph quite a variety of butterflies during the course of the week. In fact, there were a further two species of butterfly that appeared but which I was unable to get a decent photograph of – a Gatekeeper and several Green-veined Whites. But it certainly is encouraging to see such a diverse range.

Top and middle: Red admiral with wings open; bottom: Red admiral showing underwing

    Undoubtedly the Buddleia bush (also known as the Butterfly bush for good reason) at the bottom of the garden has been helpful in attracting the various butterflies. The Red admirals and Peacocks appear to be the biggest fans of the flowers, although Small tortoiseshells, Small whites and Green-veined whites have also been drawn to the bush, though in lesser numbers. The flowers have a lovely scent which seems more pronounced as the evening draws in so presumably the plant attracts night-time pollinators too.

Top: Small white; middle: Large white (underwing); bottom: Small tortoiseshell

    The other benefit of the Buddleia is that the butterflies tend to dawdle on the flowers and spread their wings, so can be motionless for at least a few moments which was ideal for getting the odd photograph!

    Not all butterfly species are drawn to Buddleias though: when the Commas (there are two of them) are not whizzing maniacally up and down the garden, they usually prefer to rest on the Hazel leaves – as do the Large whites. But the butterflies that I see more than any others here are the Holly blues, although they rarely stay in one place for very long.

Top: Comma; bottom: Holly blue

    Besides the butterflies, both Buff-tailed and White-tailed Bumblebees are regular visitors: I’d just been snapping away and still had the camera at hand when I caught sight of an insect that I don’t ever recall seeing before, though I believe they are increasingly common in the UK. This is the Hornet hoverfly, sometimes referred to as the Hornet mimic hoverfly. As its name might suggest, it is similar in size and appearance to the European hornet and imitates its buzzing flight, chiefly to deter predators from approaching it when it visits flowers. Unlike the four-winged European hornet, however, the hoverfly– like all true flies – only has two wings. It also lacks a sting.

Top: White-tailed Bumblebee; middle and bottom: (Mimic) Hornet hoverfly (apologies for the blurred picture)

The important stuff

From the garden I went all the way to Café Chez Col where I had a lovely cup of tea, which tasted almost as if I’d made it myself, and an Almond slice made by some bloke who makes “exceedingly good cakes”. Very nice!

13.07.2026
Egrets and Ditches

(Sunday 28^th June, 2026)

We were at Mostyn this morning where the 21°C temperature offered a pleasant change from the recent heatwave that we endured in the UK earlier this week. The breeze (WSW) was barely noticeable as we made our way from the path behind Abakhan and headed towards the shore at Mostyn.

    Several Housemartins flew over the cornfield to our left, gathering insects on the wing. Bare only a matter of weeks ago, this field now has an impressive crop of corn flourishing in it.

    Encouragingly, we saw an abundance of butterflies during the walk. Primarily, these were Small whites and Green-veined whites, although there were other species making an occasional appearance such as Small tortoiseshells and Gatekeepers. We weren’t sure if the large number was a consequence of the recent hot weather or if this just happens to be a particularly good place for butterflies. Certainly the area does appear to be flourishing at the moment with trees, hedges and undergrowth all looking verdantly leafy, although some rain might be welcome.

Top: Small tortoiseshell; middle: Gatekeeper (underwing); bottom: Small white butterfly

    There were several Goldfinches merrily chirruping away as they stop-started along the treetops. One of them strayed from the rabble and tooted out a tune from its perch on a telephone wire.

Goldfinch

    A male Blackbird was perched on a post with something in its beak, though we couldn’t quite make out what this was (we were a bit confused by the long branch but this is actually behind the bird). The bird’s feathers looked a little bit bedraggled and, as it’s a little bit too early for the annual moult, I think this can be put down to two things. Adult Blackbirds that are rearing young chicks can have a ragged or even bald appearance as they can be susceptible to parasites that might have infested their nests. Also their feathers are probably not being preened as often as they perhaps ought to be either: parent birds can easily neglect to carry out their regular self-care due to the need to find and deliver food for their offspring.

Male Blackbird looking a bit bedraggled

    A little further along from the Blackbird, we saw a Greenfinch contentedly sitting low on a branch, seemingly just letting the world go by. This one is male as you can see from the olive green feathers on his back – the females and juveniles tend to be much more muted in colour overall.

Male Greenfinch

    As we came to the end of the path, we scanned the irrigation ditch which lies parallel to the estuary shore. We were looking for the Kingfisher that we’d seen the last time we were here, a month ago but we didn’t manage to see it this time.

    What we did see, though, were two Little egrets. Each bird was in a different stretch of the water and each of them seemed to be staying within its own particular territory, although I suspect that they were only adapting temporarily while they waited for the tide of the nearby Dee Estuary to recede once again, at which point they would migrate to the mud and sand to feast on what the water uncovered.

Little egret – note the two crest plumes and the chest feathers of the breeding plumage. You can also see the egret’s yellow feet

    Each of the Little egrets had long plumes at the back of their heads and on their chests. These are typically seen during the breeding season but, as both males and females grow breeding plumages, it’s very difficult to tell the sexes apart. The male is slightly larger in size but this is only a useful indicator if the two sexes are standing next to each other. Though we usually get a good look at the black bills and black legs of Little egrets, we don’t ordinarily get a decent view of their feet, as they’re usually submerged in water or otherwise difficult to see. However, this time we could clearly see their yellow feet which make a distinct contrast to their black legs.

We looked along the shore but, probably because the tide was high and almost reaching the boulder breakers, there were no sea birds to be seen at all today. Apart from one angler who was putting away his fishing gear as we were returning from the shore, we saw nobody else on the entire walk. A lovely spot.

An old friend

The important stuff

We retraced our footsteps and went to the Café at Abakhan for a cappuccino each, which were accompanied by a Raspberry Bakewell slice (Col) and a Cranberry and white chocolate slice (Stu). Naturally, we were both very pleased to have achieved one of our ‘five a day’ healthy fruit portions!

03.07.2026
Jay at Loggerheads

(Sunday, 7^th June 2026)

Over to Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire today. The wind (SSW) was quite blowy on occasion but you barely noticed it here as the woods are so sheltered. Although overcast the morning remained dry and the temperature didn’t rise above 15°C.

    The ditch between the car park and the buildings had been drained and cleaned up, prior to relining it. While we were examining this work, we noticed a Grey heron standing motionless in the pond just beyond the sluice gate. We carried on down the path for a better view and stood watching as the bird stealthily stalked the pond in search of prey, although it loos like its collecting nest material in the photograph below.

Grey heron with leaves in its beak

    As we came to the stone bridge that crosses the River Alyn to join the Leete path, we saw a plant with bright, white, four-petalled flowers. This is Dame’s rocket which more commonly flowers as a purple or lilac colour. The white petals on this version seemed to hold their own light and certainly stood out against the predominantly green foliage in the background.

Dame’s rocket

    Surprisingly, the wild garlic flowers that had carpeted the woods only weeks before had all but gone, with just the occasional earthy whiff reaching us. A reminder of how quickly time marches on, I suppose.

The River Alyn’s waters often disappear underground, leaving the bed dry

    A short way along the river we were reassured to see the White-throated dipper once again: we hadn’t seen any Dippers since they had (presumably) abandoned their nest further downstream after the Alyn’s water had receded, a not uncommon occurrence here at Loggerheads which we’ve covered elsewhere on the blog.[1] Good to see, although it was just the one Dipper that made a fleeting appearance this morning.

White-throated dipper photographed mid-blink

    Nature doesn’t always provide us with pleasantness, it has to be said, and shortly after our Dipper had disappeared upstream, there was a raucous commotion in the trees on the opposite bank. We looked over to see a Eurasian jay with a small bird in its beak, while another small bird had the Jay’s tail in its beak.

Eurasian jay devouring prey

    The two smaller birds were Great tits and, though it was difficult to be absolutely sure, it looked like the Jay had taken an adult Great tit and that this poor bird’s mate was valiantly trying to rescue it. The second bird flew off as the Jay turned on it, tentatively returning a little while later, by which time the Jay had finished off its partner.

Jay with remnants of Great tit on branch

    The Jay is probably the most secretive of our corvids in the United Kingdom and you don’t often see them, though you do occasionally here their cacophonous screeching, which is hard to miss really. The Jay’s diet is varied and it will eat fruits, berries, acorns, and insects, but will also eat small rodents, young birds, and eggs. Occasionally – as in this case – it will also take adult birds. With its pinkish plumage, black and white flashes on its wings, and the distinctive sky-blue and black patch on its upper wing, the Jay is arguably our most colourful corvid but seeing our first Jay in two or three years behaving in this brutal way was obviously not the best way to witness it’s reappearance. However, it is what birds – and other animals – do, and we should treat such behaviour as dispassionately as we can.

    We saw two adult Grey wagtails and one fledgling all flying low along the course of the river to forage around the stones on which they alighted. It looked like the juvenile was still being fed by one or both of the adults for the most part. Much paler than its parents underneath, with barely any yellow, this youngster did seem to be learning about habitat and food sources from its parents. These are skills it will need when it becomes fully fledged, which cannot be that far off now.

The adult Grey wagtail (top picture) is much more yellow underneath than the juvenile (middle and bottom pictures)

     We caught sight of a Chaffinch as it flew from our side of the river to the trees over on the far bank. As we followed this colourful male’s progress, we almost missed the female with her more muted colouring, which enabled her to blend in with the branch on which she was perched.

Male Blackbird

    Whenever we’re here at Loggerheads Country Park, we seem to hear but rarely see Wrens. Today, we could hear one singing from the trees behind us and being answered – or competing with – one whose call was coming from across the river. As we were a little further downstream now, where the waters have receded, Stu was able to walk across the riverbed and get a photograph of this lovely little bird.

The Wren delivered a fine solo performance for us

The important stuff

Over to The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin) for our well-earned refreshments. Cappuccinos, unsurprisingly, with a Lemon muffin with gooey lemon curd in the middle for Col, and a Chocolate mini-egg pie (or something) for Stu. Very nice and very healthy!

[1] See Along the Leete 14^th April, 2024; and The River Vanishes 27^th July, 2025

13.06.2026
Above the Dee Valley

(Sunday 10^th May, 2026)

39 metres (127 feet in old money) above the Dee Valley to be more accurate. Yes, we went over to Pontcysyllte Aqueduct in Wrexham County Borough this morning. Although the sun popped out occasionally to remind us of its existence, the temperature struggled to get any higher than 12°C which seemed colder at height. Still, it was a reasonably bright day and we had some magnificent views from our vantage point in the sky!

Looking down at Cystylltau Bridge, which was constructed during the 17th century.

Looking west towards Berwyn Railway Viaduct

    The aqueduct carries the Llangollen Canal across the valley and, as you’d expect, this particular stretch of water is popular with narrowboats although, today, we saw two teams of canoeists crossing over as well. There is a towpath on one side of the aqueduct, providing great views over the River Dee as it courses through the valley below, and this was busy with people crossing from both sides.

    This dog is clearly used to being chauffered across the aqueduct.

It certainly makes a difference looking down on the green tree canopy below, rather than leaning back and looking up. As you can see from the photographs, the foliage is absolutely flourishing everywhere.

    The cast-iron trough that carries the water has to be cleaned and maintained of course. This happens every five years: each end is closed and a plug opened to drain the water into the River Dee below. It’s basically the same as emptying your bath at home, although this is a slightly bigger bath!

The words on this sculpture by Anthony Lysycia are from Sir Walter Scott who had described the aqueduct as ‘the stream in the sky’. Scott had also wondered how fishes could swim above flying birds, hence the central depiction.

    Thomas Telford and William Jessop get the credit for building the aqueduct, although they did get a little bit of assistance from the more than 500 men that were also involved in the work over a period of ten long years. There’s a little museum at one end of the aqueduct where you can learn all about its history. Quite fascinating.

    While there are railings on the towpath side, there aren’t over the far side: I’ve been over in a narrowboat only the once and remember looking out of the window and not seeing anything other than sky on that one side! It really was a thrilling experience (a bit hairy, to be honest). The aqueduct is well worth a visit, whatever form of transport you opt for.

Although holes were drilled to take railings, they were never actually added to the far side of the canal’s cast-iron trough.

While this looks like you’d get a close view of the valley below, it might not be to everyone’s taste!

14.05.2026
RSPB Conwy

(Sunday 19^th April, 2026)

We were at RSPB Conwy in the borough county of Conwy this morning. Although only 11°C, it felt much warmer: the day was sunny with barely any wind. The nature reserve is family-friendly with a play area and sandpit near the entrance, and Conwy Castle and the surrounding hills and mountains provide an impressive background.

Looking across the river towards Conwy Castle

    There were several Canada geese nesting by the main lagoon while Oystercatchers and Lapwings roved the shallows. Shelducks and Coots bobbed along the water and Moorhens moved furtively around the undergrowth.

    Top: Canada goose; bottom left: Lapwing; bottom right: Oystercatchers.

There was also a pair of Gadwalls, a species of duck that we hadn’t encountered before. In fact, we almost missed them as they were amongst a group of Mallards and we initially assumed them both to be female Mallards, before noticing the white tail feathers and dark grey bill of the male Gadwall. While the females of both duck species are very similar at first sight, the differences do become more apparent once you take a closer look.

    As we walked between hides, we heard the distinctive sound of a Chiffchaff calling from a nearby tree. It’s difficult to separate the Chiffchaff from the Willow warbler as they are both very similar in size and appearance. Willow warblers have pale brown legs whereas Chiffchaffs have dark brown or even black legs but you don’t always get a clear view of them. You can, though, differentiate the birds through their songs: the Willow warbler has a descending trill kind of song, while the Chiffchaff’s song is a steady two-note repeated phrase – supposedly it sings its own ‘chiff-chaff’ name. Luckily for us, then, that this Chiffchaff sang for our benefit!

Chiffchaff

    Trichomonosis is a word we’ve all become more familiar with in recent years: this parasitic disease affects many birds by making them unable to swallow food or water, which inevitably leads to emaciation and often death for those birds. The disease is transmitted via saliva and regurgitated food, so it can be passed by parent birds feeding their young and through courtship feeding. It can also be passed via contaminated food or water at bird feeders: the RSPB has recently advised against the use of flat bird tables and tray feeders in particular as well as limiting feeding during summer months.

    Particularly affected by trichomonosis in recent years have been Greenfinches and Chaffinches and, while we still come across Chaffinches on our travels, we’ve struggled to see any Greenfinches at all in the last couple of years, so it was very pleasing to see no less than three of them appear together at one of the RSPB feeders. Let’s hope that circumstances are improving for them and other birds.

Above: Greenfinches; below: a great shot of a Greenfinch coming in to land.

    One of the unlooked for consequences of feeders – and I’m not referring to that awful bird disease here – is that rodents such as rats and squirrels are attracted to the overspill that lands on the ground. Those that we saw today were having a grand old time with this free food!

Squirrel and rats feeding on overspill from feeder.

    Blue tits and Great tits skittered from tree to tree and were clearly enjoying the balmy weather. We heard Dunnocks and Wrens amongst the avian choir, although we didn’t catch sight of any. We did see our old friend, the Robin, though!

   Robin and Blue tit

There are lots of plants flowering now and it was great to see the ground awash with colour: the pale lilac of Cuckoo flowers (also known as ‘Lady’s smock’ I believe); the bold yellows of cowslips and marsh marigolds, the daintier pale yellow of primroses, and the purple of the many dog violets scattered at the sides of the paths. Hawthorn has also begun to produce its white blossom. It seemed as if everywhere was beginning to flourish.

     From left to right: Marsh marigolds, Cowslips, Cuckoo flowers (also known as Lady’s smock)

Talking of dog violets, the caterpillars of several butterflies, including the Pearl bordered fritillary, the Silver washed fritillary, and the Dark green fritillary like to munch on these particular flowers. So, something to look out for in the coming months.

Dog violets

The important stuff

Having burnt off so much energy, we went to the spacious café for replenishment: Stu had a Caramel Slice with his cappuccino and I had a slice of Bara Brith (and butter) with mine. Very nice!

    Suitably topped-up, we went outside and took one last look through the binoculars before we left. We saw several Little egrets nesting high in the trees on the far side of the estuary, although they were that far away we didn’t notice them until they were pointed out to us by a helpful member of staff. Well worth a visit.

26.04.2026
A Misty Morning at Loggerheads

(Sunday 8^th March)

Midweek I saw my first butterfly of the year in the garden – a yellow (male) Brimstone. At last! I thought, the spring’s here. But another false alarm it seems. While this morning wasn’t quite a pea-souper, it was very misty when we set off to Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire, and we had resigned ourselves to not seeing much. But, of course, nature rarely disappoints.

    The undergrowth was still quite bare except for the odd clump of primroses and daffodils, although this will change soon, I’m sure. The River Alyn was flowing strongly, but less rapidly than last week, a sign of the recent reduction in rainfall locally. Funny how you notice these things!

Nuthatch scanning its surroundings even as it feeds

    Once again, there were Nuthatches feeding at the tree stump, looking like little aerial masked bandits. It was interesting to note that they approached the tree stump in stages, first flying from the tops of the trees along the riverbank to one of the trees closer to the stump. From here they scanned the area below to make sure it was clear, then they nipped down and grabbed some food in their beaks before darting smartly back. It looked like they were shoving one or two morsels into the bark of the trees, but Nuthatches are notoriously difficult to watch closely as they are so quick in their movements.

    A Chaffinch appeared as soon as the Nuthatches were out of the way. With its lovely, striking vermilion chest and distinctive white wing bars and pale grey cap, this male Chaffinch certainly caught the eye. There was a female too, though she was not quite as colourful as the male – more brown than red, and with a patch of olive-green on her back – and she arrived and fed separately.

Chaffinch

    The Chaffinch is sometimes known as the Bachelor finch: Fringilla Coelebs is its Latin name, Fringilla meaning finch or small bird, and coelebs deriving from caelebs meaning single, unmarried, or bachelor. This name was given by the Swedish biologist Carl Linnaeus who observed that it was only the females who migrated south from Sweden for the winter, while the males stayed behind near to their breeding grounds, often grouping together with other males. It’s possible that the females were actually distancing themselves from the males due to food competition – outside of the breeding season, the males are less likely to share food resources, apparently.

    The more familiar English name Chaffinch is probably derived from the bird’s habit of rummaging through threshed chaff looking for grains of seed.

Female Chaffinch

    In the United Kingdom, the birds tend to lay their eggs between late April and mid-June and, generally, Chaffinches will produce only the one brood each year. The lateness of these clutches being laid is thought to be a deliberate strategy as the much thicker foliage and vegetation that appear now helps to hide the nests and protect the chicks from predators.

Blue tit

    After the Chaffinches made their brief, separate appearances a small group of Blue tits descended from nearby branches and stole in to help themselves. We were then stalked by a Robin or two (we couldn’t quite work out the numbers) all the way back to the café.

This Robin stalked us along the Leete path!

This one just came to say hello!

The important stuff

A cappuccino each at The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin) and a slice of gooey Millionaire’s shortbread. Very nice!   At the very moment we were ready to leave, the Grey wagtail flew overhead and landed on the roof of the gift shop, only to disappear over the far side. Obviously it was not in the mood for a selfie today!

13.03.2026
Old Year, New Year

(Sunday 4^th January, 2026)

    Our journey to Burton Marsh this morning was somewhat curtailed by a huge smothering of snow that blew in from the mouth of the Dee estuary. It was a crisp 2°C when we set off, with a sharp north-westerly drifting in, and we saw flocks of Canada geese and Pink-footed geese out on the marsh. Nearby, we detected several Pheasant hens moving stealthily through the undergrowth and, as we scanned the ground with binoculars and cameras, we sensed the vast sky around us beginning to darken. Seconds later we were retreating towards the car, thoroughly covered in snow! At least it wasn’t snowing inside Ness Gardens café though!

Pheasant (female), Burton Marsh, 4th January 2026

    As a consequence of our brief outing, there wasn’t a great deal to report. This weekend doesn’t look a great deal better: the birds are out, but not the birders! However, we’ve been inspired to post this selection of photographs from 2025, after receiving an e-mail notification from fellow blogger Bob Ramsak who posted his favourite bird photographs of 2025 https://bobramsak.com/my-25-best-bird-photos-of-2025/ Please take a look at Bob’s site – you won’t be disappointed.

    Anyway, back to The Dee and Thereabouts and we hope you enjoy this week’s post, which is really a selection of photographs of our 2025 discoveries. We only started the blog in June but even in this short space of time we’ve encountered quite a variety of fauna and flora (and fungi) on our travels, as well as the variety in terrain that our area holds. We’ll continue to try and entertain you with our ramblings (in both senses of the word) throughout 2026!

Common mallow, Burton Marsh, 22nd June

Meadowsweet, Burton Mere Wetlands, 13th July 2025

Dryad’s saddle, Burton Mere Wetlands, 13th July 2025

Great white egret, Burton Mere Wetlands, 3rd August 2025

Water lily, Burton Mere Wetlands, 3rd August 2025

Small white butterfly (female), Parkgate, 10th August 2025

Marsh harrier (female), Parkgate, 10th August 2025

Avocets and Bar-tailed godwits spooked by Marsh harrier, Parkgate, 10th August 2025. (Bar-tailed godwits in summer ‘breeding’ coats).

Blackcap, Ness Gardens, 13th August 2025

Greenfinch, Ness Gardens, 13th August 2025

White-throated dipper, Loggerheads Country Park, 24th August 2025

Wren, Loggerheads Country Park, 24th August 2025. You can see how tiny it is in comparison to the mushrooms and hazel leaves nearby.

Green-veined white butterfly (female), Loggerheads, 24th August 2025

Grey heron, Royden Park, 31st August 2025

Shelducks and Redshank, Thurstaston Beach, 14th September 2025

Curlews, Thurstaston Beach, 14th September 2025

Grey wagtail, Loggerheads Country Park, 5th October 2025

Fairy inkcaps, Loggerheads Country Park, 5th October 2025

White-throated dipper, Loggerheads Country Park, 5th October 2025

Narrowboat at Chirk Bank, 12th October 2025

Aqueduct and Viaduct, Chirk, 12th October 2025

Velvet shank, Loggerheads Country Park, 16th November 2025

Kestrel (female), facing into the wind, Parkgate, 2nd November 2025

Black-headed gull (winter plumage), Royden Park, 30th November 2025

Goldcrest, Loggerheads Country Park, 28th December 2025

10.01.2026
The Rivers Dee

    Until recently, I thought that there were two rivers known as the River Dee – one in Scotland, and one in Wales (which is the one, plus its estuary, that this blog, The Dee and Thereabouts, centres on). But I’ve recently learned that altogether, there are five rivers named Dee: two in Scotland, one in Cumbria, one in Wales, and one in the Republic of Ireland.

River Dee, Aberdeenshire, Scotland.

    This River Dee begins in an area of the Cairngorm Mountains known as the Wells of Dee. It’s the highest source of any river in the British Isles, the river source’s plateau being approximately 1,220 metres high. The river is 87 miles long and flows through Aberdeenshire, eventually spilling out into the North Sea at Aberdeen Harbour.

River Dee, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland.

    Another Scottish River Dee, this time in the south-west of the country. The river originates at Loch Dee in the Galloway Hills. It travels for 38 miles before reaching Kirkcudbright and then discharging into the Solway Firth on the Irish Sea.

River Dee, Cumbria, England.

    This River Dee is formed by several smaller streams radiating from Blea Moor Moss, in the Yorkshire Dales National Park, in Cumbria[1]. The river travels through Dentdale, which takes its name from the village of Dent ,and flows for about ten miles before joining the River Rawthey, near the town of Sedbergh. (The River Rawthey is in turn a tributary of the River Lune, which eventually – after 50 odd miles – empties into Morecombe Bay).

River Dee, Republic of Ireland.

    This River Dee flows from Bailieborough (Bailieboro) in County Cavan for 37 miles through County Meath and County Louth. The river joins the River Glyde at Annagassan village in County Louth, and both of these rivers then form a short confluence before they discharge into Dundalk Bay on the east coast of Ireland, out to the Irish Sea.

River Dee (Afon Dyfrdwy in Welsh), Wales.

    This River Dee flows through several counties in North Wales: namely, Gwynedd, Denbighshire, Wrexham County Borough, and Flintshire; and briefly enters England at points in Shropshire and Cheshire. The Dee Estuary acts as a natural dividing line between the western side of the Wirral Peninsula, in England, and the eastern side of Flintshire, in Wales.

    The River Dee’s source is on the mountain of Dduallt in Snowdonia, at about 450 metres high. The 68 miles of river flows through Bala Lake (Llyn Tegid), Corwen, Llangollen, Bangor-on-Dee, Farndon, and Holt. Once it reaches Chester, the River Dee becomes tidal and is noteworthy for its tidal bore which is usually produced during a spring or autumnal equinox, although tidal bores may occur at any time of the year if conditions are favourable.

    The River Dee at Chester…

…and some local residents. (Above: Cormorants. Below: Grey heron

After Chester, the river crosses the border to Saltney, which lies mostly in Wales, although some of the town is in England, as the aptly named Boundary Lane reminds us. (Here, the border technically runs down the middle of the road! This is the only suburban street which divides England and Wales in this way). The River Dee travels on past Queensferry to Connah’s Quay, where it opens out into the Dee Estuary. The estuary itself is about 12 miles long and 4.5 to 5 miles wide: note that these are approximate figures, as information varies, depending on which sources you look at.

    Towns on the Welsh side of the estuary include Flint, Holywell, and Mostyn. On the Wirral side of the estuary, lie Neston, Parkgate, Heswall, West Kirby and Hoylake. Just north of Talacre in Flintshire is the Point of Ayr, which is the northernmost tip of Wales, and between here and Hilbre Point, near Hoylake and West Kirby on the north-west of Wirral Peninsula is where the Dee enters Liverpool Bay on the Irish Sea.

Looking towards Hilbre Island from Mostyn on the Welsh side of the Dee Estuary

    From Chester to Connah’s Quay, the Dee has a very straight ‘canalised’ section. This artificial channel was dug out by Dutch engineers between 1732-36 in an attempt to return Chester to its historic importance as a port. However, this was only partially successful as the River Dee eventually silted up again. The work also effectively diverted the river away from places it once meandered around, including Blacon, Saughall, Shotwick, Burton, and Parkgate.

Further reading

Much of the information for each of these Dee rivers was gained from just looking at the various maps available on Google Maps, OS maps, and Wikipedia. I also found the following sources useful:

https://chester.shoutwiki.com/wiki/River_Dee

https://www.keithatkinson.me.uk/history-of-shotton/5-the-river-dee-the-latchcraft-pits/

https://www.liverpool.ac.uk/~cmi/dee/dee1870.html

https://ntslf.org/tides/about-tides/tidal-river-bores

https://www.parkgatesociety.co.uk/

[1] I take a childish pleasure in reporting that there is a Mossy Bottom as well as a Hazel Bottom near Blea Moor Moss. And there you were, thinking I was all grown up!

16.12.2025