The Dee and Thereabouts

Tag: nature

Nuthatches at Loggerheads

(Sunday 8^th February)

Over to Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire this morning. An overcast morning, peaking at 7°C, it was at least dry – for the first time in several days. In fact, the sun came out temporarily, although only as we made our way home! Much of the UK has been hit by a prolonged spell of extraordinarily wet weather so far this year, with many areas flooded, so it was a relief to see that the Loggerheads flood defence works that were completed recently have proven successful. Still, the volume of rushing water in the River Alyn reflected the amount of rainfall that has fallen in recent weeks.

Snowdrops decorated the ground here and there and we saw a few clusters of Jelly ear fungus as we wandered down the Leete path.

Jelly ear fungus

    On an old tree-stump at the water’s edge, we saw Nuthatches darting in from nearby trees to collect nuts which had been left by someone concerned for the winter welfare of the local bird population. They didn’t hang round long, so getting photographs was a bit tricky.

Nuthatch collecting food

We’ve seen crows feeding here before, but this was the first time we’d witnessed Nuthatches helping themselves! Slightly bigger than a Robin, these birds have quite a distinctive shape to them, having large heads and short tails. Their wings and back are slate grey and they have an orange-red underbelly. Their white throat and cheek are separated by a black eye-stripe that always reminds me of a mask-wearing bandit, although perhaps that’s just me!

    There were two Nuthatches and, based on their well-defined colouring, I think they were both males – females tend to have a more muted complexion – and each of them took it in turns to land on the ‘platform’ of the tree trunk. Nuthatches, incidentally, are the only UK birds that can walk up and down tree trunks, which their strong feet and claws allow them to do. (Treecreepers and woodpeckers can walk up but not down). The name Nuthatch comes from their habit of lodging nuts firmly into the bark of trees, then repeatedly pecking at them so as to get to the edible kernel inside.

Carrion crow reminding the Nuthatches of its territorial rights

    Eventually, a Carrion crow alighted on the trunk, at which point the Nuthatches sensibly took refuge in the nearby trees. The crow didn’t seem to be feeding – it was probably just reminding its avian cousins that this was its territory!

Bat hanging around

    We continued down the path to the wooden bridge where the Bat likes to hang out. It’s hard to believe that, where these torrents of water were flowing so forcefully today, that the river can be reduced to a trickle, or even dry up completely during long spells without rain, particularly in the summer months.

The River Alyn at full spate

    The birds were evidently enjoying this particular change in the weather as much as we were: we saw Chaffinches, Blue tits, Great tits and Woodpigeons making the most of it. We spotted a couple of our old friends, too: first, the White-throated dipper presented itself for a photo-opportunity and then we saw the Grey wagtail who was trawling along the sandy mud of the far riverbank. Always a pleasure to see these two birds.

White-throated dipper

Grey wagtail

The important stuff

Over to The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin), where we had our customary cappuccinos and a cake each – Toffee Biscoff for Stu and Vegan Cookie for Col. It was still dry but we sat inside by the Mill anyway. Very pleasant.

12.02.2026
At the Old Baths

(Sunday 25^th January, 2026)

We’d had reports of Short-eared owl sightings at Parkgate, specifically in the area around the Old Baths, just beyond The Boat House pub. So, we parked up and scanned the marsh. Short-eared owls largely hunt during the day, particularly in the late afternoon. Today, unfortunately, was not our day for seeing any. (A Short-eared owl was seen and photographed that day – surprise, surprise, in the late afternoon! Ah, well. Maybe next time…)

    We may not have seen any owls, but we did see a couple of Marsh harriers and a Kestrel (all female): we were certainly in a good viewing spot.

Marsh harrier (female)

There were flocks and flocks of geese honking their way across and around the wide estuary sky. Many were Pink-footed geese and we also saw Canada geese and some Brent geese, although we didn’t get any clear photographs of the latter. (It was quite misty in the distance – as you can see from the photographs).

Canada geese

    Kestrel (female): she’s in the centre, to the right!

The kestrel hovered characteristically, before dropping down and settling on the post (which I believe was where our elusive Short-eared owl perched later!) This behaviour is well established in kestrels, particularly in the winter months when the birds want to conserve energy – hovering is what Kestrels are known for (‘windhover’ is the archaic name for the bird), but it’s generally a less-preferred hunting strategy than perching. Here, we do tend to see Kestrels hovering more because there are far fewer vantage points on the marshes – apart from the odd post, of course. They’re a joy to watch when they are hovering, head down facing the ground, while they make minor aerodynamic adjustments with their wings and fanned-out tails in order to maintain their position.

Kestrel using the post as a vantage point

    Kestrels are so keen-sighted that they can see ultraviolet light, which enables them to detect urine trails left by their prey! They’ll hold their position and then suddenly swoop – they’re wonderful to watch, but you can see that these actions do take up reserves of energy.

    While we still commonly see Kestrels over the marshes – more usually hovering – their numbers declined by 37% between 1995 and 2023[1], although it’s difficult to pinpoint a specific reason. Suggestions for the decrease in number include habitat loss through farming practices; secondary poisoning (through eating voles and mice that have consumed rat-poison); and their chicks being subject to predation from corvids and other birds of prey, such as Goshawks.

    It probably doesn’t help that Kestrels don’t build nests, preferring to take over those abandoned by other birds, or to use natural cavities such as tree hollows or cliff ledges – they’re not fussy, just so long as they don’t have to do any construction work themselves! The Kestrel population in the UK is being monitored jointly by BTO/JNCC/RSPB[2] as well as other bodies such as the Hawk Conservancy Trust.

Ghostly power station in the mist

    Eventually, we moved to the Donkey Stand at the opposite end of The Parade, where a third female Marsh harrier appeared flying low over the marsh. (It may possibly have been one of the two that we’d seen earlier at the opposite at the Old Baths). We also saw several Mallards and some Teal on the nearby stretch of water, but no photographs I’m afraid.

Marsh harrier (top right) near Donkey Stand

    Although I remember seeing a couple of Little egrets, I have no recollection of seeing this Great white egret below disturbing several Pink-footed geese, which Stu photographed. I must have been concentrating on something else! Talking of which…

Great white egret and Pink-footed geese

The important stuff

Over to Ness Gardens for refreshments. A cappuccino and a generous slice of Bakewell tart each. Very nice, and well-deserved!

[1] Information from Bird Trends Explorer, BTO data.bto.org/trends_explorer/?species=Kestrel

[2] British Trust for Ornithology / Joint Nature Conservation Committee / Royal Society for the Protection of Birds

01.02.2026
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
Goldcrests at Loggerheads

(Sunday 28^th December, 2025)

    Sometimes you just get lucky. We were just about to leave Loggerheads Country Park, in Denbighshire, and head home. Before we did so, we thought we’d take a last quick look from the little bridge opposite the We Three pub. Looking upstream, we caught glimpses of yellow as tiny birds darted around the lower foliage of a tall conifer. (Judging by the leaves, I think the tree is a cypress of some sort, but I’m not entirely sure). These birds were not easy to track but, looking through the binoculars, I could see that they were Goldcrests – the smallest bird in the British Isles and, in fact, Europe. These tiny birds are rarely longer than 9.5cm (3.7 in), with a wingspan no greater than 15.5 cm (6.1 in). On average, they weigh just 6g ( less than 0.25 oz) and are often described as weighing the same as a twenty-pence piece.

    Goldcrest

The Goldcrest has whitish-grey underparts, olive-green upperparts and two contrasting white wing bars, and a distinctive yellow crest on its head, from which it gets its name. The male has a smudge of orange running through the centre of its yellow crest, although this is not always visible: presumably it becomes so when it ‘displays’ during the breeding season. So, the Goldcrest in the photographs could be either male or female. And kudos to Stu – considering how active these birds were as they probed the cones and leaves for food – the photographs turned out really well.

    Goldcrests are actually quite a common bird in the British Isles, where resident birds are joined by migrant birds from Scandinavia during the winter months, although neither of us had actually seen them ‘live’ before. And despite our climate becoming warmer, Goldcrests are still susceptible to the cold: they can ‘burn off’ a lot of body weight overnight when the temperature drops, even when they huddle together. It had been a cold night – and it didn’t climb above 5°C for the whole of the morning – so probably these Goldcrests were replenishing lost energy.

Dipper about to submerge itself

    Earlier in the morning we had seen a White-throated dipper – in fact we traced it to a couple of different spots along the River Alyn. Over time, we’ve noticed that Dippers seem to favour the faster-flowing white water of the river. This one first performed its characteristic bobbing dance, before submerging itself in the river in search of food. Very entertaining!

Dipper showing white eyelid feathers as it blinks

Grey wagtails also hunt in areas of the river where there is fast-running water, but though both species’ territories overlap, somehow they’re both able to share the river’s resources without too much disputation, as far as we can make out. We often see both species out and about at the same time, as we did today.

Grey wagtail on the roof of the mill house

The Grey wagtail flew off before it could be photographed although it – or perhaps another wagtail, we can’t be sure – appeared a little later on the roof of the old mill which is the one in the picture. While some birds are camera-shy, the same can’t be said of our old friend the Robin: a born star that just loves being photographed!

Robin posing for the camera

The important stuff

The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin) provided us with much needed sustenance after all that hard work. A cappuccino and a Chocolate Biscoff each soon restored our equilibrium!

30.12.2025
At Heswall Beach

(Sunday 21^st December, 2025)

    This morning, we went across to Heswall Beach on the Wirral side of the Dee Estuary. The car park at the bottom of Riverbank Road was deserted when we arrived, which may have been down to the weather: although it was dry and the temperature was a reasonable 8°C, there was an easterly wind making its presence known. And this wind was sufficiently icy to keep people indoors, apart from one or two brave souls.

    Black-headed gull on waymarker…

…later dethroned by a usurping Carrion crow

Anyway, there was a single Black-headed gull (in winter plumage) which seemed impervious to the weather and spent a good deal of time perched on top of the red waymarker on the beach. (Well, I’m referring to the wooden structure that resembles a lampshade, which I’m guessing is some sort of waymarker or indicator – and on which the gull seemed quite content until it was later dislodged by a pugnacious Carrion crow).

   Little egrets

There were some Little egrets mooching about along the channel several metres out and several Carrion crows foraged individually here and there. At one point, a Marsh harrier emerged briefly from the thin mist and quickly disappeared inland.

Pink-footed geese

We saw several Pink-footed geese nearby. These were resting on the ground about 30 metres out but every now and then they’d take off – presumably to their roosting place. Pink-footed geese are used to the cold conditions of Iceland and Greenland but spend their winters in the United Kingdom. They are known to be wary birds so it’s probable that we inadvertently disturbed them with our presence. In fact, we saw quite a few geese flocks flying across the estuary although most were too far away for us to establish which species they were. As we’ve mentioned elsewhere in the blog, the area is vast, and today this vastness seemed to be emphasised by the general quietness.

    Heswall Beach – as you can see, the wildlife was having a duvet day

After an hour or so, we decided to call it a day: the wildlife just didn’t seem to want to drag themselves out today, and we couldn’t blame them really. So we headed back towards Chester Road and detoured via Boathouse Lane to Parkgate. Here, we again saw geese flocking over the Dee Estuary – well, I did, while Stu drove. It was a nice little diversion before we eventually arrived at the Ness Gardens café. And it’s always a joy driving through these roads and lanes and seeing the old sandstone buildings which are characteristic of the area.

The important stuff

As we headed towards the Ness Gardens café, which is officially The Botanic Kitchen, we were serenaded by a Robin that was singing loudly from a small tree at the side of the path. (Blimey, they make some noise considering their size). Once we were inside though, and this will hardly surprise our regular readers, we each consumed a cup of cappuccino and a slice of Bakewell. Lovely!

26.12.2025
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.

    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
A Visit to Royden Park

(Sunday 30^th November, 2025)

    We were at Royden Park today – more specifically Roodee Mere near the miniature railway. It was quite a cool 6°C, although the very light wind (WSW) and the occasional burst of sunlight belied the temperature. Mind you, it was much warmer when we were last here in August: the Grey heron was having a leisurely feast at the time, if you remember? Today we saw the heron again: first very briefly before it slinked away through the undergrowth; and a little later we caught a glimpse of it flying above the trees. We suspected it was on its way to Frankby Mere, though we couldn’t be sure.

   A very still Roodee Mere…

While the Grey heron shied away today, there were plenty of Moorhens and Mallards to be seen. Stu got a couple of shots of one of the Mallards just after he’d dipped his head beneath the water (the male Mallard that is – not Stu) and you can see the beads of water on him. The majority of these Mallards were males – I counted only two females.

…until a Moorhen created some ripples

“Just like falling off a log”, said the Moorhen

Now, something I only recently learnt about is what is known as an ‘eclipse plumage’. This occurs in Mallards and other ducks at the end of the breeding season, when the males moult their feathers and replace them with less colourful brownish feathers – similar to the females’ in fact. From this point until their second moult, several weeks later, the males are unable to fly as they also moult their flight feathers at the same time as discarding their ‘breeding’ feathers. Consequently, they are vulnerable to predators and the male Mallards often disappear to separate areas away from the females and their nests. Clearly, this bunch of male Mallards had all recovered their plumage after their second moult, which probably accounted for the greater number of males than females. And they were once again able to fly. There are several interesting resources on the subject of eclipse plumage and the article on the Scottish Wildlife Trust blog is a good place to start: https://scottishwildlifetrust.org.uk/

Mallard just after he immersed his head in the water

    Meanwhile, a solitary Black-headed gull appeared at the mere and, despite being one of the smaller gulls, they are very loud: there were several noisy Magpies in the treetops making their distinctive rattling sound but they were all drowned out by this small gull! To be clear, the Black-headed gull was in its winter plumage, which is when they lose their black heads, retaining only a dark spot behind each eye. Just to add to the confusion, the dark head of the summer plumage is more a chocolate brown than black, although it certainly looks black from a distance. The beak and legs on the Black-headed gull are red, as you can see.

    Black-headed gull in winter plumage

There are a few birds that have a summer plumage that’s distinct from their winter wardrobe – Knots and the Black-tailed Godwits which lose their lovely, rusty red colouring, come to mind – and it’s generally thought that the more subdued winter colours help the birds blend into their environment and offer protection from predators. This change in plumage doesn’t apply to all birds though. Adult Robins of both sexes, for example, retain their red breast year-round: it’s thought to be a territorial warning to other birds.

This Robin played hide-and-seek with the photographer

The important stuff

We enjoyed our usual cappuccinos and a good-sized Bakewell slice each at The Courtyard Café. Ah! Bliss!

03.12.2025
The tail-end of the storm

(Sunday 16^th November, 2025)

    Over to Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire, this morning. The River Alyn was running very high in the aftermath of Storm Claudia – Friday and Saturday had been particularly wet and, though it was a cool 8°C when we arrived, the rain had ceased and the day was dry. The rebuilding of the river wall that was completed in 2024 has clearly been successful: in past years, the old mill, the café and the visitor centre have all been subject to flooding after persistent heavy rain, whereas today there was no such damage.

    I thought it was worth including a photograph of the river from earlier this year, just to show the difference that prolonged spells of dry weather and wet weather can produce. As has been mentioned elsewhere on this blog, the Alyn is particularly affected because of the river’s ‘disappearance’ underground (see The River Vanishes, Sunday 27^th July, 2025).

The bed of the River Alyn back in July this year…

   …compared to the aftermath of Storm Claudia on Sunday.

Our Grey wagtail put in a guest appearance this morning and we’re certain it was the same one that we saw only last month: while we recognised the bird, I wonder did it recognise us? (Oh! It’s those two again!). There were several House sparrows, Great tits, Robins, Common crows, and a lone Grey heron flying high above the trees, its legs extended horizontally behind it.

    A Robin practicing its ‘winter calendar’ pose

But it was the sight of a pair of Nuthatches that drew our attention: we were sitting beneath an old oak tree and, for some reason, I looked up. I don’t recollect hearing any noise, or being aware of any movement, so I’m not sure why our attention was suddenly locked onto the oak branches above. Pure luck, I suppose. As I raised my binoculars, the nearest bird walked headfirst down the trunk. The way I’m describing it, you might be imagining a stately descent but, really, the bird performed a sequence of rapid steps before turning around in the opposite direction, and then quickly hopped up the branches of the tree. This was a female Nuthatch, given the paleness of its red/orange breast (I’m discounting its being a juvenile given the lateness of the season, but I may well be wrong). I’m guessing that the other Nuthatch was male, although it was a little higher up the tree and I was concentrating on the nearest one. No photographs, unfortunately, as they are such quick, darting creatures, but we’ll maybe see them again the next time we’re here.

Above: Velvet shank. Below: unknown bracket mushrooms

    Late autumn is a good time of year in the British Isles to see various fruiting bodies of fungi although this is one area in which we’re admittedly lacking in knowledge. (Only one?!) But, looking online, I think the buff-coloured spherical fungus is a mushroom called Velvet shank. I’m hesitant to say anything too detailed on the other fungus apart from it appears to be some form of bracket mushroom.

No change at the coin tree

The coin tree, which we generally pass without consideration, is thought to be the modern version of the traditional practice of making offerings to wood deities and spirits. The coins have been hammered into the bark and are almost impossible to extract – allegedly!

The important stuff

We sat outside The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin) with our customary cappuccinos, each tucking into a slice of Bakewell. Very nice!

20.11.2025
A dash around the park

(Sunday 9^th November, 2025)

    On Sunday 27^th of May, 2021, during what was loosely known as Step 3 of the government lockdown, when limits on social contact outdoors were gradually being lifted, a group of us from work all met up for a walk. It wasn’t only a walk: we had seen each other only periodically since the beginning of the lockdowns, except for the occasional appearance on Zoom, so it was an opportunity to connect outside of work. Although some of the original cast-members have left since then, we’ve kept in touch and have continued to meet up sporadically for occasional walks in West Wirral and North Wales.

    So, Stu and I went to the Wirral Country Park at Thurstaston this morning, where we were joined by special guest stars Claire, Tanya and Evan, and Sue and Jayne, for our latest gathering. Unfortunately, Jayne didn’t bring her pet termite, which she’s named Clint Eatswood, although we hope to meet him at some point!

    As we traversed the park, there was quite a chill in the air, which became more noticeable when we reached the more exposed path that runs along the clifftops. Ordinarily, Stu and I go at a steady, ponderous pace and might have spent some time looking down towards the beach for signs of avian activity, but today was not the day. The park and the Wirral Way were unusually empty of people.

The Mallards and Coots were oblivious to the cold

Even the birds didn’t seem to be up to much – we saw the odd crow but otherwise nothing. Apart, that is, from some Mallards and Coots which seemed quite content to brave the weather. Everyone seemed eager to head to the café (Flissy’s) and get out of the wind, so we were full of admiration for Sue as she appeared to want to walk further than everybody else. We quickly realised, though, that she wasn’t trying to out-distance everyone, but that she’d actually lost her way!

    As it was a bit of a dash today, there’s consequently very little to report. On the other hand, it was a lovely couple of hours spent in great company – just being together with your friends is enough to lift your mood even on the most dismal of days, and we did have a giggle with each other!

    Too late! The squirrel’s disappeared!

The photograph of the Max Kirby Bridge information sign puzzled me at first, but I think this is another example of Stu failing to capture a squirrel on his camera. I feel sure that there was one happily chomping a hazelnut as he sat astride the sign, but he skedaddled before being photographed. Stu will have photographed Bigfoot, Nessy, and the Abominable Snowman before he ever takes a photograph of a squirrel! He did get a couple of shots of an enterprising Robin, which was hoovering up the crumbs spilt from our tables (yes, we were outside, as Flissy’s was full). As ever, it’s difficult to say what sex the bird is, as the males and females are so similar.

    Suitably refreshed (and hoping for a warmer day next time), we all headed home. While Stu and I were exiting the car park on to Station Lane, we watched a Common buzzard fly down low in front of us. When we reached the gates a little bit further up the road, we pulled over and saw that there was another buzzard. Both were happily perched on the gates but naturally, both had moved on before we could get a picture. But what a sight to see!

The important stuff

As mentioned earlier, we went to Flissy’s for our well-deserved break, where this week’s characters in no particular order enjoyed:

Cappuccino, bacon & egg batch. Also, took home a Bakewell slice and a piece of Lemon drizzle. Also ate one of Evan’s crumpets, although she insists she was merely helping out (Claire).

Tea, sausage toastie (Jayne).

Americano with milk. Bagel with cheese, sausage and a hash brown (Sue).

Tea, chips. (Tanya).

Cappuccino and Bakewell slice (Col)

Cappuccino and Bakewell slice(Stu)

12.11.2025
Parkgate, early November

(Sunday 2nd November, 2025)

    Early November, and it was a reasonably mild 11°C at Parkgate, Wirral, this morning, although the (SW) wind-speed increased later, turning the day a little cooler. We parked up at the Old Baths car park and watched as a flock of thirty or more Greenfinches flitted by. A Kestrel hovered over the marsh, swooping from one viewing position to another.

   Grey heron

We spotted a Grey heron standing statue-like in the reeds. I’m always impressed by these birds’ forbearance as they wait for their prey: certainly this one barely moved all the time we watched. We moved off towards the Boathouse and witnessed a dozen or so House sparrows feasting on Teasel seeds on the other side of the wall. Further out across the marsh were separate flocks of geese, although they were a little too far away (and too quick) for us to identify clearly.

    We kept scanning the marsh through our binoculars as we went along The Parade, which made for slow progress: then again, it’s only natural really, given the wealth of wildlife that inhabits this vast area. There were one or two Little egrets stalking the distant ditches, and we spied several more Grey herons, separately watching their own areas of the wetland.

   Another Grey heron

So engrossed were we that we almost missed the Marsh harrier that suddenly appeared from out of nowhere. It flew quite low, scattering a lot of small birds as it went, although one or two Feral pigeons flew by seemingly oblivious to the threat that this raptor represented! The Marsh harrier flew further out, staying low, until we lost sight of it eventually.

    Marsh harrier (male)

At the Donkey Stand, we looked out to the pond and could see a family of Northern shovelers, several Mallards and Moorhens at the margins of the water, and what we took to be some Black-headed gulls in their winter plumage. We also counted four Little grebes, each of which kept diving below the water only to resurface quite a while later in a different part of the pond. We were unable to capture the birds on camera, unfortunately.

    The Marsh harrier re-appeared, this time accompanied by its mate, though each of the birds concentrated on different areas of the marsh. Again, a mini-panic ensued as several of the smaller birds desperately flew away from the pond. A lone Carrion crow flew towards the female harrier, loudly cawing as it did so. A second crow joined it and both of the harriers made a tactical withdrawal. It’s always fascinating to watch crows in such situations: they never seem to be deterred by the risk of danger.

Mallard family

On our return journey, we carefully scrutinised the marsh and spotted some of the Grey herons again, still standing motionless in hunting mode. There was a family of Mallards hidden amongst the vegetation, and the Kestrel returned and hovered nearby, allowing Stu to get a picture. Before all that though…

The important stuff

We remained at the Donkey Stand and had our refreshments al fresco. Stu went across the road to the nearby Elephant café for the regulatory cakes and cappuccinos. a chocolate brownie for Stu, and a shortbread for Col – and, even better, the café very kindly supplied a biscuit with each of our drinks!

Female Kestrel facing into the wind

06.11.2025