I really tried hard to reggae-if-i-cate the freezing cold, heavy squalls away using the power of the mighty Mr Lee Scratch Perry at Volume 32 this morning, but even The Upsetter couldn’t make the strong, icy wind any warmer, or the rain any lighter.
Perhaps I wasn’t playing him loud enough.
Either way, Weld Road did not look particularly inviting, but I wanted to see if I could pick up any colour rings in the Twite flock before it finally clears out (a few BTO rings visible, but nowt else).
As I walked north along the tideline it felt most unspring-like, although there were three Stonechats (two singing), numerous Mipits, Reed Buntings and a few Skylarks and Pied Wags.
No Wheatears.
Just before the rain came in again I bumped into one of the Redpolls – small numbers have been mixed in with the Twite and Linnets on the upper strandline here for the last three weeks at least, and any opportunity to watch them low down rather than swaying on backlit branches (or buzzing overhead while you snap your vertebrae back), should not be passed up.
Certainly there were three this morning, possibly more, all happily changing size, shape and colour as their mood dictated – chameleon finches baby.



The Redpolls tend to perch up on the sedges occasionally, giving great views.
Something the heavier Twite and Linnet couldn’t pull off even on a flat calm day I suspect.
All Lessers (or maybe that’s just what they want you to think), the Redpolls are a pleasing dash of variety amongst the Twites and Linnet, which were doing the usual – impossible to get sharp images of them in the wind and rain though (excuses, excuses).



Once I was drenched enough and had lost all feeling south of my scarf, I realised I’d spent sufficient time with little streaky brown finches, so drove up to Marshside.
No sign of a thaw there, although the Med Gulls were performing well in front of Sandgrounders.



Across the road a few Mipits and a single calling Goldcrest in the remnants of the Forest of Bale made a poor show of a Spring Bank Holiday.