North Wales Trip; March 2025

We base an annual (or so it seems these days) trip to North Wales around Mrs Caley's birthday. One of my wife's favourite birds is the Black Grouse and there is a site near Llangollen where superb views of them can be obtained from the sanctuary of a vehicle. A Black Grouse lek is one of the most thrilling avian spectacles, and never disappoints. So, I hastily arranged somewhere to stay and we headed off northwards.

Wednesday 19th March; Chasing a Shrike

Cannock Chase is a place that we'd never previously been to. To be honest I didn't even know where it was apart from that I knew Cannock was near Stafford in the Midlands. The week before, my mate Kev had visited the area to find a Great Grey Shrike and had secured some pretty decent views. We were on our way to Wales, Cannock Chase was kind of on our way to Wales, so it made perfect sense to go and see the Shrike for ourselves.

The first thing I learned about Cannock Chase was that it wasn't west of the M6 as I tentatively imagined it would be, but the other way, east of it! I guess having a Sat Nav these days has made me lazy. I used to pore over maps but there's not so much need to now. I did know that the Chase was a large area of natural heathland which was used as a training ground for the army during the Second World War. I also knew that it was the place where Capercaillie were once reintroduced but sadly that venture failed and they all died out. Would have saved us a few miles of travelling up to Scotland had they flourished. We found the parking spot easily enough but I'd been warned that it was a fairly long walk to the area on the heath, where the Shrike should be. There was an option to drive further to a closer parking area but the track to it was really rough and I didn't fancy ripping the undercarriage of the car off. It's the only car I have, and I needed it to get to Wales later.

The walk wasn't actually so bad. It took maybe twenty minutes tops to reach the old firing range where the Shrike was generally seen. We couldn't see it though so we sat down for a few minutes while I checked that we were in the right place, which I knew I was but had to check anyway. Most reports of the bird had come from around the range; a bank of sand and gravel surrounded by open heathland and small stands of trees. I'd been told by some birders that we'd spoken to at the carpark, that the Shrike was there so we just had to find it. We spotted a couple of nice Woodlarks but there was no sign of said Shrike. So we went walkabout, wandering for over an hour to places where I thought the Shrike might be but with no luck. As a last resort I suggested to Mrs Caley that we check the valley bottom out at the foot of the slope on which the range lie. We had no luck there either so on a pretty warm day and two hours after we'd arrived, we were tiring, so decided to give up and return to the range and then back to the car.

We trekked back by way of a steep path towards the other side of the firing range. As I reached the crest at the top of the track I noticed a bird perched in the slender top branches of a lone Silver Birch tree. It was the Great Grey Shrike! I couldn't believe it. All the effort and it was there just fifty metres from the range. We could have stayed there and just waited for the Shrike to find us! 

Great Grey Shrike

We had good enough views, especially through the scope. As they usually are, the Great Grey Shrike was mobile and even though at one point it flew into a larger tree right above our heads, it was tricky to get decent photos because of bright direct sunshine. I was very happy to see it though, and that is what counts. 

That's now the last two Great Grey Shrikes that I've seen where my photography has been hampered by shooting into full on sunlight. Hopefully the next one will give me a better chance. However, we had a great bird to start our trip!

Thursday 20th March; The Lek

I had chosen our accommodation carefully, ensuring that it was within easy reach of the area of moorland where the Black Grouse lek. It was a twenty-five minutes drive door to moor, and I wanted to be there by five-thirty so we were out of our beds very early. A good job too because, unlike last year when we had the place to ourselves in some awful weather, we were lucky to grab the last remaining parking place alongside the lek arena with five other vehicles already there. It was forecast to be a beautiful and sunny morning which is probably why so many other folk had the same idea. You view the lek by looking eastwards so the sun helps to illuminate the old mine workings where the birds perform.

As I've said many times before, to witness a bunch of male Black Grouse strutting their stuff at their daily lek, is one of the true avian spectaculars. Even though I've seen it many times, and I know exactly what to expect, it still thrills me. We first saw Black Grouse lekking in the Cairngorms. There were several good sized leks within a few miles of where we used to stay. Sadly all of those leks are now defunct, victims of increasing pressure by public usage of the forests and moorland. We still know of a few lekking grounds there, but they are either a long walk from suitable parking or very distantly viewed from roads. Thus we come to North Wales most years in March, to watch this lek from the comfort of the car and at very close range. The location used to be a well kept secret, I've certainly never told anyone else. But I guess with the powers of deduction that the modern age has brought, it is no longer the big mystery, and lots of folk now do exactly as I do. The increase in number of birders visiting will possibly result in this lek going the same way as many others but at least disturbance is minimised if folk stay in their cars until the birds have finished their ceremonies.

The Grouse were already active although it wasn't yet light. You can hear their eerie bubbling calls drifting across the darkened moor. The sun rises behind a hill on the opposite side of the road to the lek so it gets light very slowly. The first shapes emerge in the gloom, the white tails of the Black Grouse move spectrally as if disembodied from the black birds to which they belong. As the shapes take more definition then the full majesty of the lek becomes apparent. There are only nine males competing this morning. I say "only nine" because when we first came to this lek there were over twenty. Numbers have been dwindling ever since. These Black Grouse need a few good breeding seasons to bolster their population. It's far too tempting to take photos this early in the morning, the light will improve and today was forecast to be bright and sunny, but that temptation always proves too great and I take a few images anyway. Virtually all will end up in the bin but I always think, 'what if they are disturbed and fly off?'.

Black Grouse

The sun crests the hill at 06:30, and the first Grouse are decked out in bright light to show them in their true glory. The name, Black Grouse, hardly does them justice, in reality the plumage is a subtle mix of vivid blue and purple with brownish feathers on the wings. They have a striking red comb over each eye. And there's the white tail which is spread like an ornate flower. There are white patches on the body ant the wings have a white trailing edge. Those wings are held out in a lyre-like fashion when in combat, making them appear like a circus strongman tensing his arms. As well as the bubbling song, the Grouse also scream, "coooeeeshhh" sounds at each other. It really is terrific viewing. 

I've documented this experience many times in past blogs so I'm not going to carried away here this time. You're welcome to delve back to read about previous visits to see the Grouse. This particular lek wasn't the best I've seen, nor was it the worst. It was good though; it always is. 

Other birds seen on the moor that morning included Raven, Red Grouse, Meadow Pipit, and the usual two pairs of Canada Geese that land right in the middle of the lekking ground and then honk away and perform their own little dance. They always look bemused as if they are thinking, 'what th heck is going on here?', but surely they must have got it by now?!

Canada Goose

Meadow Pipit

Red Grouse

Back at the lek, the Grouse were a bit nervy, and flew off a couple of times but always returned promptly. They always do that to be fair. At least I could grab a few flight shots of them, and I do like a flight shot.

The bright sunshine should have aided me to get some better than usual photos of the Grouse but for some reason I proceeded to make a complete hash of things and fail to take full advantage. I made the mistake of using a different camera setting, recommended by a friend, which I just couldn't seem to control. So instead of getting showstoppers, I took a load of gobstoppers. Mostly hopeless. At least the photo selection for this blog was easier than usual, and I took consolation in that I enjoyed watching the birds. I should also have utilised the extender on my lens which works well when it's sunny. Well, it does for other folk with much better skills than me.

So, I was a very disappointed bunny when post-editing of the photos taken. I binned far more than I didn't. There'll be another chance one day.

We drove into Llangollen and found a decent cafe for breakfast. The enjoyment of the fine fare was tinged with a bit of sadness though, since the building used to be a pub. It's a real shame that so many pubs are forced into closure and yet can find another use as cafes or, restaurants and fast food outlets proving that it's the excessive taxation that prevents pubs from being profitable by making them too expensive. After filling our bellies, we took our now traditional walk along the River Dee. There were no year ticks on offer this time but who could resist seeing Mandarin Ducks in the sunshine. Indeed who could resist a Mandarin Duck at any time? This time we found six of the most dapper of ducks.

Mandarin Duck (male)

The female Mandarin is far less garish but still beautiful in her own right. This was posturing and breeding season and the females were already paired up to a male or being followed very closely around by one. We were treated to a short bout of X-rated Mandarin Duck activity to underline the strength of the feelings on the river.

Mandarin Duck (female)

The stretch of river is also a good place to see Dippers. The water level was very low this year, in stark contrast to the raging torrent of a year ago. That meant that it was possible to walk almost out to mid-river by way of the exposed rocks. By doing that I was able to get closer to the pair of Dippers feeding on the far bank, although this is a wide river so I still wasn't really close enough to the birds. There were lots of folks walking out onto the rocks to take photos or to exercise their dogs so there was no way that the Dippers would venture closer that morning.

Dipper

We found a single Goosander loafing on a rock further upstream. Twelve months previously we'd watched a pair of Goosanders masterfully tackle the fast flowing river. This time there was barely a trickle to get this particular bird excited. I took a bit of time to watch some of the local Herring Gulls and then went in search of another coffee stop.

Goosander (female)

Herring Gull

We were unsure of what to do next, until I saw a report that a Kumlien's Gull, a North Canadian subspecies of Iceland Gull, was still present at Aber Ogwen near Bangor on the North Wales coast. We'd never seen a Kumlien's Gull before and, even though it wouldn't be a full life tick, it would be a year tick because we hadn't seen any Iceland Gulls since spring last year. We were able to park right by the beach and there was hardly any walking to do. Aber Ogwen sits at the eastern end of the Menai Strait, the stretch of sea dividing Anglesey from the mainland. The Gull was reported as being in the bay about two hundred metres west of the carpark. It was high tide so the beach was narrow but we were able to walk easily to a point from where we could scan the large flock of Gulls that I could see resting on the sea.

Before we reached the Gulls, our attention was momentarily harnessed by a few Eider Ducks that were swimming lazily past. For years we have driven to the Beaumaris area of Anglesey in order to get only distant views of Eiders (normally a year tick for us in March, as these were). Now we had found a place where the Eiders were only just offshore and photographable. We watched the ten male and three female ducks lay claim and then squabble over the only large rock in that part of the bay. Eiders are fun ducks and make fun noises, "aa-ooo-errr, aa-ooo-err". Mrs Caley loves them.

Eider Ducks

We moved to the edge of the beach where it curved round into the bay. I set up the scope but before I needed it, I'd already spotted a Gull, which owing to its almost pinky-grey appearance, was likely to be the bird that we were seeking. I found it in the scope, and there it was; our first Kumlien's Gull. This was a first-winter bird so was all over that very pale pink-grey colour. It's a big bird though with a larger all black bill than the nominate Iceland Gull has. As we watched the Kumlien's Gull slowly drifted towards us, allowing for some decent views.

Kumlien's Gull

Those views improved when the Kumlien's Gull decided to take flight. Its chosen path took it right past where we stood and just within the "Eider Rock" so it wasn't too far away. I snapped off a whole volley of photos as it flew languidly past. I later sent some of the images to the chap who had discovered the bird a few days before. Apparently they showed the intricate differences to the feather patterns of the Kumlien's which set it apart from the nominate Iceland Gull. Unfortunately, those idiosyncrasies are well above my pay grade but I'm trying to learn. I'll get the Gull bible out and study a bit more.

The Kumlien's Gull had relocated to the sheep field by the carpark but was now more distant. I helped a newly arrived birder to get on it before driving off to the RSPB reserve at Conwy. The reserve was pretty quiet bird wise, although we did add a Spotted Redshank, plus our first Sand Martins and a Swallow, to our year list. The best moment was provided by a beautiful pair of Bullfinches which were feeding on the buds of a tree. Bullfinches are becoming increasingly difficult to pin down at home so it was a treat to watch and photograph these ones.

Bullfinch

Friday 21st March; Twite Nice!

We always head up to Anglesey while on this trip, primarily to South Stack but we usually take in a few other sites while there. However, considering that we were staying just a few miles away from Bod Petrul, we headed there first. Bod Petrul picnic site offers an almost certain opportunity to see Crossbills. In fact, we've never failed there, and you don't need to walk far from the car either, since the birds favour the trees around a small lake next to the road, and use the shallow edges of the water to bathe and drink. Crossbills are a finch that predominately eat the seeds of the cones of fir trees and require a lot of water to aid digestion of that food. We found a fair sized flock of over forty Crossbills quite quickly. They were high up the trees to begin with, and the trees here are very high so the camera remained holstered.

We wandered along the road to a place where we'd seen Crossbills drinking in past years when visiting the site. We were in luck once again as well, when a few of the birds flew into a much smaller tree on the edge of the lake. There we had almost eye-level views and I gained some very satisfying photos of a bird that I don't always encounter on a beautiful sunny morning such as this one was. There were males, females and juveniles in. the flock. Crossbills tend to stay in family groups.

Crossbill (female)

Crossbill (juvenile)

Crossbill (male)

Anglesey was our primary destination and soon we were trundling over the Menai bridge onto the island. Our first stop was at Holyhead Harbour where Black Guillemots breed. The black, and white, members of the auk family are relatively easy to see there but I've never had the superb close views that many others have had. On this trip it wasn't any different and I had to be content with views of three of them out in mid-channel, where they always seem to be when I look for them. One bird did oblige me with a flypast to give me some flight shots.

Black Guillemot

We moved on to the RSPB South Stack reserve high on the cliffs above Holyhead, right at the top of Ynys Mõn (the correct Welsh speaking name for Anglesey). Our main quarry was a small flock of Twite, a species of finch akin to the more familiar Linnet. We rarely encounter Twite since they are birds of the uplands and we live very much in the lowlands. In winter they can be found on coastal marshes and shingle beaches but recently they've become even more scarce than ever. The birds had been reported as favouring "the grassy knoll at the top of the lighthouse steps". I should have asked exactly what that meant but considering that the visitor centre hadn't yet opened, I went looking for myself. For those that haven't been to South Stack before, the lighthouse sits atop a small island way below the top of the cliffs from which access to it is gained. There are hundreds of steps that zigzag the way down to a flat(ish) grassy area at the bottom next to the bridge that straddles a short span of sea. Stupidly I thought that that lower grassy area was what we were aiming for, and not the grassy cliff top that was by the road. Thankfully the steps were extremely steep and with every step down, the way back up looked ever more daunting. Hence we gave up about a quarter of the way down and decided that we would not want to walk all the way back up. I'm very impressed by the lighthouse staff that used to do that climb on a regular basis and by all the idiots that do it for fun in modern times. As we leant over the wall gaining some breath back, after only re-climbing part of the steps back up, we noticed a raft of six Puffins amongst the much larger numbers of Guillemots and Razorbills, our first of the year, so it wasn't a complete waste of time to scramble down and back up since they couldn't be seen from the top.

Puffins

Back at the road, I considered how we were going to see the Twite, and thought that we may end up looking for them the following winter. There were grassy areas both sides of the road but I hadn't even imagined that's where the Twite had been seen. But they had to be somewhere so I checked the lower side out first, and while I didn't see any Twite, I did find some nice Stonechats and a smart Black Redstart. There were Rock Pipits too and I spotted our first Wheatear of the year.

Stonechat

Wheatear

Rock Pipit

I cast the net further by striding up the steep grassy bank on the other side of the road. Mrs Caley wisely stayed put at the bottom while I huffed and puffed my way up. I discovered another two Black Redstarts, a male and female, although the male very skilfully evaded all my efforts of getting close enough to it for a snapshot. Meadow Pipits gave me hope but still no Twite were seen. 

Black Redstart

Meadow Pipit

As I descended though, I swore that I could hear a Twite calling. I heard it again so was now sure that they were around somewhere. I followed the calls down and found myself back down at the road. 'Did you hear that Twite?', I asked of my wife. Her reply of, 'Yes, I've just been watching a couple down there on the lower grass slope'. I couldn't believe it. Well, I could because that was just typical really.

I sat on the wall for a while and there was no further appearances of streaky brown finches of any description. Absolutely typical of my birding luck. I took scant consolation by walking a little way up the slope again to photograph a couple of equally grumpy looking Ravens.

Raven

Partially defeated, I decided that a coffee was in order. Whilst drinking it, I suggested that we'd be better off nipping off the main reserve for a while and going on a search for the resident Hooded Crow that is usually found on or near The Range, another part of the South Stack site about a mile away. The Range itself is a wide open flat area of boggy heathland. We've walked there a couple of time in the past and seen very little of interest so now we don't bother but just check out the area immediately next to the carpark. There was no sign of the Hooded Crow. A report of a Little Ringed Plover had been posted from Valley just a few miles away so we chose to head over there and see if we could find that instead. That meant that we turned right out of the carpark approach road. If we'd tuned left back to South Stack then we'd have missed the Hooded Crow that flew over our car and landed in the horse paddock next to the carpark!

Our one hundred percent record of connecting with the Hoody was intact for another year. The views we had, once we'd retuned to the junction and parked up were our best since the bird landed right next to us while we were enjoying a picnic break on the South Stack cliffs on a hot summer's day a few years ago. The Hooded Crow was in tandem with its Carrion Crow partner although they never cuddled close enough for a lovey-lovey shot. The Hoody showed well and I enjoyed watching it poke around in the grass, and to see it taking time out for a preen and stretch.

Hooded Crow

The Little Ringed Plover was on a small flood situated next to a busy road junction but there was handy parking nearby. Mrs Caley stayed in the car while I scanned the edges of the water for the small wading bird. LRP's, as they're called, are summer visitors to the UK. They're not rare and we'll see plenty through the summer but this would be the first for the year. It took me three complete circuits (visual ones not physical yomps obviously) to find the bird because it blended in so well with its chosen feeding area. I retrieved Mrs Caley from the car and we enjoyed a few moments of watching the delightful little wading bird.

Little Ringed Plover

Back at South Stack we parked up at the top of the cliffs right next to the supposed "Twite field". There was nobody else around, and no Twite either, so we straddled the wall and sat gazing out to sea and wondering how lucky folk are that live in places like Anglesey. The Black Redstarts were flitting about still but I'd already had my fill of photographing them. Just as Mrs Caley and I were discussing and asking each other, 'Where are the Choughs?', one appeared on the cliff edge. We've seen many Choughs at South Stack but on this day they were strangely absent until this one landed in front of us. It "cheowed" a couple of times and was off, chased by another that must have alighted further down the cliff. My best guess is that at the end of March, they are nest prospecting in the caves set into the cliff face or even nesting already and thus are less visible.

Chough

We heard them before we saw them; Twite at last, for me anyway. It took a couple of minutes before half a dozen of them emerged into view and scuttled along the cliff edge forty metres below us. Too far away for anything but record shots so I just watched them intently through our binoculars. For the last few years we'd travelled up to Knott End-on-sea to see Twite but numbers there, attracted by a supplementary feeding program, have been falling and the birds more difficult to find. The Twite at Anglesey had been reported every day for a week before our visit and I had been keeping my fingers crossed that they would stay until we got there. As the small flock, the maximum number we saw was eight, moved up the grassy slope, I began taking some photos. Not an easy task, and with the birds being so small they often disappeared into the grass clumps.

Twite

Another birder asked us if we'd seen any Twite and when we showed him the birds, now half the distance away, he was delighted. Birds like Twite, often referred to as, "little brown jobs" deserve greater audiences but most folk wouldn't give them a second glance, drawn instead to the brasher birds like Puffins and Choughs. For me however, these are the special birds; birds that you have to work harder to see and photograph. Look closer and you see a warm buff coloured bird with streaked brown backs. In winter plumage, as these birds still were, the bill is straw yellow coloured, lending them a "party nose cone" look. The males sport a rich pink rump patch. When breeding, the buff underparts are replaced by a richly streaked white, and the bill turns grey. These birds, heartily seeking out grass seeds, will be setting off soon northwards and upwards although a few pairs still persist in the mountains of Snowdonia.

Delighted with our haul of seventeen year ticks plus lots of other good birds, we set off back to the cottage and drew the curtain on another successful short holiday in North Wales. We'd check and see what was available on our route home the next day.

A pitstop at a service station near Bangor produced the most extravagant bird of the day; a fine Peacock which was very impressed by its own reflection in a shiny car. I had far less admiration for the chap who tried to kick the bird as he walked past, and told him so, although the volley of abuse thrown back at me wasn't quite so splendid.

Peacock

Saturday 22nd March; Old friends Re-acquainted?

We had visions of following the Welsh coastline down as far as Aberystwyth but had shelved that idea even before we'd finished munching our breakfast. We had stopped at a cafe near Cerrigydrudian and had intended heading westwards but with home to get back to, the drive to do that long drive had dissipated quickly. This particular cafe, on the A5, is well known amongst birders as the best place to see Yellowhammers in the region. They, along with many other birds, are attracted to the feeders placed in the garden. We noted a couple as we watched through the window. From the carpark we had the added treat of seeing a Goshawk glide over.

The drive south was uneventful until we hit a block on the outskirts of Shrewsbury, so I decided to use a route via Bridgnorth to get home, a diversion I had learned of years ago when working up there. While musing as I drove, I remembered that Chelmarsh Reservoir was not far from Bridgnorth but I couldn't remember exactly where it was. While taking a coffee break just outside of the town, I checked the maps and was surprised that Chelmarsh was just a few miles away. So it became a no brainer to go there. The reason for going to Chelmarsh again, our first visit was to see a Little Bittern (our first and only so far in the UK), was to year tick a trio of Velvet Scoters that had made the reservoir their winter home. Initially there were two of the scarce sea ducks there, and it seemed reasonable to suppose that they were the same birds that had graced Grimsbury Reservoir at Banbury in November last year, birds that I managed to get some really good images of.

The walk down to the reservoir was easy since it's downhill, the walk back up would be harder in the humid weather of the day. As soon as we reached a gap that we could view the water, I spotted the three ducks, all keeping very close company. They weren't anywhere near as close in as the Grimsbury birds had been but were good to see again. Velvet Scoter are tricky birds for us to see, living seventy miles away from the nearest coast as we do, so this was a good year tick to get. Our total for the year after our trip and risen to #189.

Velvet Scoter

My thanks to Alan Davies for generously providing information on various sites and news of birds whenever asked.

April promised much, with a trip to Lesvos arranged. Bring it on!