Granny’s Bay to Lytham Windmill

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Shelducks and Winter Hill

Shelducks are back in Granny’s Bay. Distinctive, handsome-looking chunky ducks; bigger than a mallard, not as big as a Canada goose. Heads down, shovelling through the soft silt for tiny snails, worms and plants they occasionally stop, have a look around, tidy their feathers, and then back to more shovelling.

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Shelducks and redshank

Fairhaven Lake and Granny’s Bay to Lytham Windmill is a regular favourite walk that’s never the same.

Autumn offers special pleasures. Big skies speckled with skeins of chattering geese on their way to wintering territory hang over the Ribble estuary.

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Geese

Waders, waddlers, and a metal detector, sift the estuary’s rich pickings for their different treasures. Tractors and tethered fishing boats adjust position with the ebb and flow of the tide.

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Metal detector

A crow stands on sentry duty.  Lytham Windmill stands proud.  I’ve reached my destination.


The return leg is like being on a completely different walk. The tide’s on its way.  The light’s changed. Shelducks, en masse, have taken flight.  Nothing stays the same.

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