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  • St. David’s Day in the Park

    (Sunday 1st March, 2026)

    Loggerheads Country Park in Denbighshire to be exact. The River Alyn was flowing strongly, there was a southerly breeze, which was barely perceptible in the woods, and the morning was sunny and dry with the temperature climbing to 12°C. After the long, wet winter, are we finally entering spring? Well, it’s the United Kingdom we’re talking about so I won’t make any rash claims just yet!

    Grey wagtail second time

    Grey wagtail

        Just a short distance down the Leete path we saw our old friend the Grey wagtail. We’re unable to determine if this bird is male or female as it’s generally difficult to separate the sexes. One tell-tale sign is that males develop a black bib during the breeding season, and are a deeper yellow than the females, so we’ll keep a look-out and report any developments in the next month or so. This Grey wagtail was mooching about on the far side of the river when we first spotted it: later it immersed its feet in the shallows of the water, feeding on any insects and small crustaceans that it could find.

    Grey wagtail Saint David's Day

        Further along the path a couple of Nuthatches were feeding. Not birds that like to hang around for too long, Nuthatches: they darted in from high in the trees nearby, grabbed some food and then quickly departed. Despite this skittishness, Stu managed to take some very good photographs of these lovely little birds.

    Nuthatch scoffing again
    Nuthatch face-on
    Nuthatch scoffing

        The Robin, on the other hand, wasn’t at all shy about being seen! This one tracked us as we walked through the woods and then, as we paused on the wooden bridge to look up and downstream, it landed on the branches of a nearby tree and began to sing. I thought it was auditioning for ‘Song of the Morning’ or something. It was a pleasant tune of course – but LOUD! Below is a great picture of the Robin belting out it’s song.

    Robin auditioning

    Robin auditioning for us – LOUDLY!

        Later, as we retraced our path and passed the spot where we’d earlier watched the Nuthatches, we saw a couple of other birds feeding. Drawing closer, we saw that one had a distinctive black stripe down its yellow breast, marking it out as a Great tit. The second bird was a Coal tit.

    Great tit at Loggerheads

    Great tit

        The Coal tit is widespread throughout the United Kingdom but is much smaller than the Great tit and a lot more timid, tending to only appear fleetingly. Certainly, we rarely catch sight of them on our excursions. It has pale straw-coloured underparts, white cheeks and a black cap and black bib, and has a predominantly grey back.

        The Coal tit is similar to both the less common Marsh tit and the even rarer Willow tit and is sometimes mistaken for one or other of these birds. Apart from the rarity factor, the Coal tit can be differentiated from either of these two in other ways: first, it has white wing bars which neither the Marsh tit nor the Willow tit possess; and second, it has a distinctive patch of white stretching from its crown down to the back of its neck. This is not always visible of course, particularly if you’re looking at the bird head-on but you can just make it out in the picture here.

    Coal tit at Loggerheads

    Coal tit: the white patch from its crown to the back of its neck is just visible in the photograph

        The Coal tit prefers coniferous woodland and relies on seeds from conifer cones, particularly during the winter. However, the bird also enjoys the nuts of deciduous trees such as beech, so – like other tits – it is adaptable in its choice of habitat. Luckily, Loggerheads is a mixed woodland area of broadleaf and coniferous trees, so the Coal tit gets the best of both worlds!

    The important stuff

    We had our customary cappuccinos at The Mill House café (Tŷ’r Felin). Stu chose a Bara brith flapjack to accompany his coffee, while Col had a Jammie dodger blondie with his. A lovely way to celebrate Wales’s national day!

  • A Different Perspective

    (Sunday 22nd February, 2026)

    Over to Royden Park, Wirral this morning. The temperature was 13°C which felt almost tropical, considering that only a matter of days before it had been a very chilly 4°C. The wind (WSW) was light, only picking up later during the afternoon, so a very welcome change in the weather all round.

    Gravity-defying Nuthatch

    Gravity-defying Nuthatch

        As we set off from the car park, we saw a gravity-defying Nuthatch on a branch high above us. We watched, fascinated, as the bird demonstrated its acrobatic skill – It didn’t appear to be feeding so much as simply showing off! There was a certain exuberance in this behaviour, so perhaps it was just celebrating the sunshine and the climb in temperature too.   

    Hazel catkins

    Hazel catkins

        We followed the path that skirts the edge of the walled garden where we saw several coppiced hazelnut trees with their distinctive yellow catkins.

    Crocuses

    There were other signs of early spring too: snowdrops and crocuses dotted the undergrowth here and there, while buds had started appearing on the branches of trees.

        We passed by the miniature railway and moved through the woods towards the Roodee Mere. As we slowly circled the mere, a troop of Long-tailed tits chattered loudly and excitedly as they leap-frogged from tree to tree. They disappeared as magically as they’d arrived, so no time for photographs I’m afraid!

        We heard a woodpecker but were unable to locate it visually. The largest of the three woodpeckers that breed in the United Kingdom, Green woodpeckers are regularly spotted in this area so we listened carefully for the ‘laughing’ sound that they’re known for (the old country name for the bird is ‘yaffle’), but we listened without success. Maybe another time.

    Canada goose
    Mallards at Roodee Mere
    Coot at Roodee Mere

    From top: Canada goose; Mallards; Coot

        It’s at this time of year that birds begin to act a bit more territorially and we watched as a honking Canada goose ran across the water flapping its wings and chased away a pair of Black-headed gulls. We’re not sure why, really, as there were Mallards, Coots and Moorhens sharing the mere (though the Moorhens were hiding in the undergrowth, we could hear them)and the pair of Canada geese seemed unperturbed by any of those particular birds. The Black-headed gull is one of the smaller gull species, so shouldn’t really represent a threat. Perhaps it was simply because the gulls’ sudden aerial descent simply startled the geese. Shortly afterwards, the gulls returned unchallenged.

    Thirsty Canada goose

    Canada goose drinking, having worked up a thirst chasing off the Black-headed gulls… (they returned later anyway!)

        What was noticeable is that the Black-headed gulls were just beginning to regain their summer breeding plumage: you can see the black colour (really a dark brown) starting to return to the face of the adult bird in the photograph.

    Black-headed gull returns

    Black-headed gull beginning to regain its summer plumage

        The Nuthatch that we witnessed looking at the world through a different perspective earlier had clearly made an impression on Stu: while he didn’t photograph Roodee Mere from an upside-down position, the image here might make you think he had! Certainly viewing things differently makes you think again about your surroundings and is particularly effective here, thanks in large part to the undisturbed clearness of the water.  

    Roodee Mere through a different perspective

    Roodee Mere through a different perspective

    The Important Stuff

    After all these physical and artistic exertions, it was only fair that we rewarded ourselves with some suitable refreshments. So, a cappuccino each and a slice of Bakewell tart (Stu) and a slice of Carrot cake (Col) at The Courtyard café. Delicious!

  • Nuthatches at Loggerheads

    (Sunday 8th 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.

    Loggerheads snowdrops

    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 2

    Jelly ear fungus

    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 close-up

    Nuthatch collecting food

    Nuthatch turning

    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!

    Nuthatch tree-stump

        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 on tree-stump

    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 on bridge

    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.

    Torrent River Alyn

    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.

    Old friend Dipper

    White-throated dipper

    Old friend Grey wagtail

    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.

  • At the Old Baths

    (Sunday 25th 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 at Old Baths

    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 at Old Baths

    Canada geese

    Kestrel hovering at Old Baths

        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 on post at Old Baths

    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

    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 at Donkey Stand

    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 geese

    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

  • Old Year, New Year

    (Sunday 4th 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

    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

    Common mallow, Burton Marsh, 22nd June

    Meadowsweet

    Meadowsweet, Burton Mere Wetlands, 13th July 2025

    Dryad's saddle

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

    Great white egret

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

    Water lily

    Water lily, Burton Mere Wetlands, 3rd August 2025

    Small white butterfly female

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

    Marsh harrier female

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

    Black-tailed godwits and Avocets in flight

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

    Blackcap in hand

    Blackcap, Ness Gardens, 13th August 2025

    Greenfinch being held

    Greenfinch, Ness Gardens, 13th August 2025

    Dipper facing

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

    Wren facing

    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

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

    Grey heron, Royden Park, 31st August 2025

    Shelducks and Redshank

    Shelducks and Redshank, Thurstaston Beach, 14th September 2025

    Curlews at Thurstaston

    Curlews, Thurstaston Beach, 14th September 2025

    Grey wagtail (female)

    Grey wagtail, Loggerheads Country Park, 5th October 2025

    Fairy inkcaps

    Fairy inkcaps, Loggerheads Country Park, 5th October 2025

    Dipper mid-stream

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

    Moored houseboat at Chirk

    Narrowboat at Chirk Bank, 12th October 2025

    Chirk Aqueduct and Viaduct

    Aqueduct and Viaduct, Chirk, 12th October 2025

    Velvet shank

    Velvet shank, Loggerheads Country Park, 16th November 2025

    Female Kestrel facing into the wind

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

    Black-headed gull winter plumage

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

    Goldcrest in conifer

    Goldcrest, Loggerheads Country Park, 28th December 2025

  • Goldcrests at Loggerheads

    (Sunday 28th 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 in conifer

        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.

    Goldcrest 2

        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

    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!

    Blinking Dipper

    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 mill roof

    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

    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!

  • At Heswall Beach

    (Sunday 21st 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

        Black-headed gull on waymarker

    Usurping Carrion crow

    …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 mooching

       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

    Pink-footed geese

    Pink-footed geese flying

    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

        Heswall Beachas 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!

  • 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.

    River Dee at Chester

        The River Dee at Chester

    Cormorant at Chester

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

    Grey heron at Chester

    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!

  • A Visit to Royden Park

    (Sunday 30th 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.

    Roodee Mere

       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.

    Rippling Moorhen

    …until a Moorhen created some ripples

    Moorhens gathering

    “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 beads of water

    Mallard just after he immersed his head in the water

    Mallard close-up

        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 winter plumage

        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.

    Robin hide-and-seek

    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!  

  • The tail-end of the storm

    (Sunday 16th 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 27th July, 2025).

    River Alyn dry bed 3

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

    Alyn full spate 2

       …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.

    Robin calendar

        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.

    Velvet shank

    Above: Velvet shank. Below: unknown bracket mushrooms

    Bracket mushroom

        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.

    Coin tree

    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!