Scorchio

It was another ferociously warm day and the pollen count was officially Very High. The blackbird had started singing at ten to four in the morning and the robin — which had for all intents and purposes vanished this past couple of weeks — kicked in five minutes later. The woodpigeons waited until dawn had well and truly broken more than an hour later before they started singing, the robin and blackbird had packed it in long before then. The wren has other things to do and only starts singing once the kids have gone to school and often waits until about ten to set his stall out. The end of the dawn chorus season is always ragged and fitful.

The small birds had the sense to stay in the shade. Four black-headed gulls loafed amongst the woodpigeons, rooks and jackdaws most of the morning before moving on. For once no large gulls came to school for the lunch break.

Tea was called at the Test Match. I decided I'd assay a quick trip out into Urmston to stock up on bird food and cat food, a ten minute job, which it has to be as that's as much time as you've got between the train from Humphrey Park arriving at Urmston and the train back to Humphrey Park departing. (On paper it's twenty minutes but that doesn't take into account the delay caused by the eternally late-running Transpennine Express train. There's a train every two hours and you've ten minutes to get your shopping done.) I got to the station just as the train was cancelled due to signals failure. I took the hint, there's enough in to see the cat through the weekend and there are enough aphids about on the roses to feed the spadgers.

Despite a bumper crop the blackbirds, woodpigeons, blackcaps and squirrels have seen to it that I've only had a couple of handfuls of boysenberries this year. I've fared better with the self-sown raspberries.

I'm used to the magpies, woodpigeons and even a grey wagtail eating the scraps I throw out when I clean the cat's bowl. Today one of the young spadgers was having a go at it, though it just as likely could have been after the flies.

I've received another couple of "Anywhere on the Northern network" return tickets, making it an even dozen burning a hole in my pocket. The weather for next week is predicted to be cloudy and sweaty, it would be no bad thing to spend some of that time sitting drinking tea on an air-conditioned train.

New Moss Wood

New Moss Wood 

I thought it would be a wise move to spend most of the day listening to the Test Match and go out for a teatime stroll. It was still very warm as I watched the swifts wheeling over the station so I decided against a long walk over the mosses. New Moss Wood had the advantage of lots of shade.

I got off at Irlam and walked through the allotments to New Moss Road. The swifts were wheeling round the rooftops here, too. Woodpigeons and collared doves sang from chimney pots, blackbirds and blackcaps from the railway embankment.

New Moss Wood, along one of the rides

New Moss Wood was in one of its quieter moods, or would have been if the blackcaps didn't have to shout to be heard over a song thrush. The small brown objects flitting between brambles patches were as likely to be wrens as speckled woods. The rides were busy with red admirals, large whites, gatekeepers and commas, the trees busy with mostly silent great tits and blue tits. A garden warbler sang from a stand of alders, the chiffchaffs tended to favour the birch trees and brambles. 

A search for any dragonflies proved fruitless, it was a bit late in the day for them, though I was relieved to find the little pools still had enough water for the usual selection of bugs and midges and, hopefully, dragonfly nymphs in the muddy depths.

New Moss Wood 

Woodpigeons clattered about in the treetops and there was a steady traffic of them overhead as they flew between the fields either side of the wood. The grain was ripening, some test cuts had been made and the woodpigeons and pheasant were picking up the spillage. Swifts and swallows hawked high over the barley fields and lesser black-backs started to drift over to roost.

New Moss Wood 

I wandered back to the station, greenfinches joining the goldfinches singing in the trees by the bridge where an invisible warbler squeaked ambiguously and could have been either chiffchaff or willow warbler. The Merlin app picked up a calling spotted flycatcher which turned out to be my knees.

Sun dog

As I got off the train at Humphrey Park a dozen swifts were swirling overhead and there were sun dogs in the low clouds. I was very glad I hadn't gone on a long walk today.

Wellacre Country Park

Coots

It was a nice day for a walk, clear sky and enough of a breeze to keep everything honest. Unfortunately I wasn't up to the planned trip out to Martin Mere and instead took the drastic step of slathering the leg between heel and mid-calf with an inch-thick layer of incredibly fiery rubbing ointment which stung like hell for two hours but seems to have loosened the tendon a lot. I don't know why I haven't done it before (yes I do: it stung like hell for two hours).

All of which is mere preamble to the admission that I was bone idle all day then went for a teatime walk round Wellacre Country Park.

Wellacre Country Park 

I got the train into Flixton and walked down Ambleside Road to Dutton's Pond for a change. I was expecting it to be dead quiet and I was dead wrong. Chiffchaffs, blackcaps, blackbirds and a song thrush were in full song. Families of great tits and long-tailed tits bounced about in the trees. Young chiffchaffs recklessly hung underneath the umbels of pathside hogweeds and only retreated into the bushes when the camera got them in focus. I wondered what the brown mound was on the path ahead, fearing the worst given the number of passing dogs and horses, and disturbed a sunbathing song thrush.

The crowd of mallards drifted aimlessly about Dutton's Pond. I was surprised to find a pair of coots with two youngsters, have they been hiding on this side of the island all the time? The moorhens chicks are now full grown and ashy grey. I looked for any dragonflies and found but the one common blue damselfly zipping round the irises.

Coots

Comma butterfly 

I walked on into Wellacre Wood backed by a songscape of chiffchaffs, blackbirds, wrens and blackcaps and the screeching of parakeets in the trees by the school field. The butterflies were busy. As well as the usual crowd of large whites there were plenty of speckled woods in the trees ready to chase any passing butterfly of whatever species out of their territories. Commas chased each other over thistle patches, meadow browns and gatekeepers flitted about in the long grass and red admirals sunned themselves on brambles.

Gatekeeper 

Red admiral 

Wellacre Wood 

The depths of the wood were noisier than usual, some of the woodpigeons and blackbirds sang in the treetops and great tits called to each other in the undergrowth.

Haymaking 

I looked in vain for any hirundines or swifts over the fields. Magpies and house sparrows accompanied the horses, carrion crows attended the hay making. Lesser black-backs drifted overhead towards the Mersey, black-headed gulls circled and squabbled over the water treatment works by Irlam Locks.

Jack Lane Nature Reserve 

Chiffchaffs and blackcaps sang in the trees in Jack Lane Nature Reserve. A song thrush and a couple of blackbirds sang from the railway embankment alongside. Magpies fossicked about in the hawthorns, to the disgust of the titmice flitting about them. I gave up on trying to find reed warblers and concentrated on finding any dragonflies. Not a sausage. Lots of bugs and beetles on the surface of the pools and plenty of midges and horseflies flying about but no dragonflies. I was scanning round the willows looking for them when I found a reed warbler bouncing about in the branches. It had a beak full of insects when it shot down into the reeds which surprised me as I forgot they have two broods, one in late Spring and one in midsummer. A second bird started singing from the reeds behind me as I moved on.

Twenty-two spot ladybird

The walk down by the railway to Dutton's Pond had more chiffchaffs, great tits, blackbirds, large whites and meadow browns. Woodpigeons bashed about in trees, carrion crows and magpies rummaged about in the fields. Two of the coots struck a pose on the pond so I could be sure I hadn't imagined them.

I decided not to take a pull up Green Hill and walked through to the river instead. The blue tits and great tits were very active and a family of long-tailed tits worked their way through the willows at the base of the hill.

Looking over the river at Flixton Bridge a kingfisher shot out from under the bridge and disappeared round the bend upstream of the garden centre. Which was nice.

Leighton Moss

Black-tailed godwits, black-headed gulls and avocets

Another nice, not too warm yet, day so I got myself an old man's explorer ticket and headed up to Leighton Moss. The idea was to have a gentle toddle round the reserve but the lesser yellowlegs that was found on the Eric Morecambe pool last night was reported again this morning so I'd have a walk down to the coastal pools instead.

It was a quiet trip up on the train. I think I saw more large white butterflies than woodpigeons. Silverdale Station buzzed reassuringly, goldfinches and greenfinches sang in the trees while spadgers and blue tits fussed about in the old station house garden. 

Slackwood Lane 

As I walked down Slackwood Lane blackcaps sang in the trees by the golf club and in the copse at the corner of The Row. I turned onto New Lane where swallows hawked low over the fields and road and a buzzard lazily drifted over the trees behind the farmstead. I negotiated the level crossing and Quicksand Pool Bridge, both places where the pedestrian needs to be wary of blind bends. A sedge warbler in the drain by the road took loud exception to me, even louder once the camera appeared and it disappeared into the depths of rank foliage.

From Quicksand Pool 

I walked down the path to Quicksand Pool and the car park, keeping an ear out for any cars driving down behind me. I thought I heard an incoming so I stepped off the path and looked back. The car I heard passed by and on into Warton. A large bird caught my eye as it floated over the reedbed behind the wall. At first I was seeing it head-on and thought it might be a buzzard but it didn't have light underparts and it was all wrong for a marsh harrier. The penny dropped as the bittern lowered its landing gear and disappeared into the reeds.

It was a pleasant walk down to the hides, a clear blue sky and enough breeze to keep it fresh. Greenfinches and goldfinches sang in the trees, chiffchaffs and robins flitted about, the wind blew the song of a skylark in from the marsh.

From the Eric Morecambe Hide 

I went straight to the Eric Morecambe Hide, which wasn't silly busy but all the windows along one side were occupied. I stood behind and had a scan round at the silhouettes on the pool. Lapwings… an oystercatcher… lots of redshanks… some dunlins feeding in the water with redshanks… a greenshank on an island with some redshanks… greylag geese… Way out in the distance a male marsh harrier drifted over a herd of mute swans on a far pool.

Redshanks, dunlins and lapwings 

One of the other birdwatchers breathed a loud sigh of relief: "Got it again! It's come out from behind that island but it's still a long way out." I listened as people found the lesser yellowlegs and lost it again, all the while trying to tell everyone else where to look. It sounds more chaotic than it actually is, there's something organic about the dynamic. I was being no bloody use at all until finally I picked up on the last landmark somebody had mentioned and saw the yellowlegs walking briskly past a redshank, giving me an opportunity to compare and contrast. Somebody beat me to the call. No matter, it isn't a competition. Lesser yellowlegs remind me very much of greenshanks although they're a bit smaller and darker. Compared to a redshank they look more lightly built and graceful, they're about the same size but look smaller. In a good light the legs would be a dead giveaway, in this light where the birds were largely silhouetted against the water it was a lot more difficult. Hard work but a nice bird.

The Allen pool

I went over to the other side of the hide to look over the Allen pool. I'd heard the calls of black-headed gulls and the pipings of avocets and godwits on the way in. A few dozen black-tailed godwits, most of the adults in full fox red breeding finery and the juveniles in greys, roosted on the pool with a couple of dozen avocets. The sun was behind me so the lighting picked up the colours a treat.

Black-tailed godwits and avocets

Black-headed gulls, black-tailed godwits and avocets 

Avocets

As I was walking back one of the other birders offered me a lift back to Leighton Moss, which was good of him. He was off to Foulshaw Moss to see the ospreys. I thanked him and wished him luck with the ospreys and hoped he got a brace of tree pipits to go with them.

I had twenty minutes more than I'd bargained for for a nosy round. I was keeping an eye on the clock, I wanted to get the Manchester train and was feeling superstitious about it after just receiving the latest batch of Delay Repay travel vouchers (and there's more on the way). The feeders by The Hideout were busy with greenfinches, goldfinches and great tits with a gang of mallards gathering up the spillages. 

Great crested grebes and coots

The pool at Lilian's Hide was noisy with black-headed gulls and busy with coots and mallards. A few dabchicks dived about the reed edges. An eclipse drake pochard mingled with a crowd of eclipse drake mallards, only bringing attention to himself when he dived and bobbed back up again. The great crested grebes had a humbug in tow. Way over I could see one of the great black-back chicks flexing its wings ominously.

A great tit straight out of the bath

I got back to the station with a couple of minutes to spare, stopping to a apologise to the pied wagtail I disturbed as I crossed the tracks to the Southbound platform. The heel was definitely pulling by this stage and became very uncomfortable as I travelled back. I think I'll need to do a long but gentle walk on the flat to ease some movement back in without pulling the tendon further. I'll see how it goes tomorrow.

Greater Manchester bumper bundle

Stock doves, Pennington Flash 

It was a mild and cloudy morning. After a couple of day's actively resting and cosseting the Achilles tendon that's giving me the hump I decided I'd have a couple of short walks with a fair break between them.

The first target was Elton Reservoir, which I've neglected a bit. A pair of common scoters had been reported there over the weekend, providing a useful excuse for a visit.

The bird feeders in the car park were busy, mostly with greenfinches and great tits, a few goldfinches, blue tits and a coal tit getting in when they could.

Elton Reservoir 

Canada geese crowded the bay by the sailing club. A few mallards dabbled about the edges and a pied wagtail flitted about the jetty. Further out a raft of a couple of dozen coots bobbed about and half a dozen black-headed gulls squabbled. A few swallows hawked low over the water and there were were more of them out over midwater.

I walked along the bank. Whitethroats sang from hawthorn bushes, chiffchaffs skulked about in the willows and wrens sang from the depths of scrub. I reached open ground and could see lesser black-backs bathing midwater and more rafts of coots and lines of Canada geese cruised about. A small flock of sand martins joined the swallows over the water, small dark shapes zipping across my eyeline as I searched for the scoters.

Canada geese 

At last I found them, two dark shapes on the water, bigger and darker than the tufted ducks beyond, bigger and duckier than the coots. They were too far out to get much detail and I quickly lost them as they dived and I couldn't pick up where they re-emerged.

Walking by the creek

I walked up the creek, whitethroats, chiffchaffs and dunnocks singing and a willow warbler fossicking about in the Himalayan Balsam..

Speckled wood

There were lots of large whites, red admirals and speckled woods about. A few common blue damselflies zipped about the long grass. I had to check the impulse to chase after the brown hawker patrolling the reeds, neither I nor the camera have good enough reaction times to get a photo of one in flight. Walking down the other side of the creek I could see a mute swan dozing amongst the mallards and coots.

Half a dozen house martins hawked over the little bay by the creek, keeping well away from the swallows and sand martins over the way. By this time I'd convinced myself that I'd seen a couple of tufted ducks and all else was wishful thinking so it was nice to emerge from the trees and find the scoters quite a bit closer to hand than they had been.

Common scoters

It was a duck and a drake, which doesn't necessarily mean they were a pair. The yellow on the drake's bill was very dull, I think this is as close to an eclipse plumage common scoters get.

Common scoters

Common scoters 

Common scoters

I decided not to walk through into Radcliffe. Instead I went back to the creek and walked up the lane to Bolton Road for the 471.

My second target was Pennington Flash, to have a potter about and see if the lesser scaup was about. It's a bit of a haul from Elton Reservoir to Pennington Flash but very straightforward: 471 to Bolton, 582 to Leigh and 610 to Pennington Flash and all the buses running every quarter of an hour when they're behaving themselves. Which today they did.

Walking into Pennington Flash from St Helens Road 

It was dead quiet walking down the lane from St Helens Road. There wasn't even anything on — or in — the brook.

Stock dove
I was surprised to find it amongst the mallards.

It was a very different game in the car park where the Canada geese and black-headed gulls were scoffing bread faster than the tiny tots could throw it. A few mallards dozed on the shore or chased each other round the trees for no apparent reason. I had a look to see if the Egyptian geese were about and had no joy. Offshore a raft of coots drifted with the wind and a handful of tufted ducks bobbed up and down. Way out in the middle of the flash a handful of lesser black-backs were having a bath.

From the Horrocks Hide 

Lapwing chick

The spit at the Horrocks Hide was a solid, weed-covered mass of land. The tops of the heads of the herring gulls, cormorants and mute swans at the end of the spit could be seen in the distance over the rise. A herd of mute swans cruised leisurely offshore, herring gulls, tufted ducks and great crested grebes littered the strait. A couple of grebes were sitting on nests and their partners were bringing along fresh materials to shore them up. The black-headed gulls still had possession of the rafts but looked to have finished nesting, there were a lot of flight-worthy youngsters about. Common terns could be heard but took some finding until they flew out into the flash. All the time I was taking this in a lapwing was shepherding a couple of youngsters round a muddy patch in front of the hide.

Mute swans and Canada geese 

After the eerie entrance it came as a relief to hear singing chiffchaffs and blackcaps in the trees. A few brown phantoms turned out to be robins taking to cover.

It was quiet again at the Tom Edmondson Hide. A mallard made sure its three-quarters sized ducklings kept well away from the ghostly pale heron fishing on the pool. A reed warbler sang from the reeds by the path.

Heron

The wind had gotten up by the time I got to Ramsdales so all the viewings was through a screen of waving reeds. A mallard had small ducklings, the juvenile lapwings were full grown and a dabchick was hinneying from heaven knows where.

Stock dove

The feeders on the Bunting Hide were very busy with stock doves and great tits. And more stock doves. And a few magpies and blue tits. But mostly stock doves. Which was nice as it gave me a chance to have a good look at them without them suddenly scooting off, which is generally the way when they're feeding in fields. One of the birds looked duller and greyer than the others but I couldn't be sure if it was a juvenile or a moulting adult. I suspect the latter, the few times I'm sure I've seen juvenile stock doves they've looked underfed and all these birds were (very understandably) on the plump side.

A very young juvenile bullfinch

Also nice to see was a very young bullfinch looking like some exotic escape as it had yet to get its black cap and bib. This is a plumage usually missing from the bird guides. A young robin turned up, too, starting to show the first of its red feathers.

Moorhen 

A moorhen flummoxed the stock doves. They were adapt at barging magpies off the bird tables by flying in at them and bumping into them amidships but they didn't seem to have a strategy for shifting moorhens.

Juvenile robin

I walked back to St Helens Road. "You've just missed a kingfisher!" said a man standing by the brook. I congratulated him. It would have been nice to have seen it but I'm happy they're about.

Crosby Marine Park

Tufted ducks

It was a grey and windy day. I debated whether or not to take my raincoat and left it at home, I reminded myself to slap on the factor thingy despite the cloud and just caught the Liverpool train. I had wondered whether to not bother with a walk today as the Achilles tendon had been really sore all night, I decided the exercise would help more than hinder.

I'd decided I'd go and get an all-areas Saveaway, have a look round Crosby Marine Park, see if I could get lucky with the roseate tern at Seaforth again then see how I felt about moving on to another site.

The journey out confirmed the feeling I've had for a couple of days that the usual July doldrums had descended. Even the woodpigeons sitting on railway furniture were fitful and unreliable sightings. Yesterday I was seeing more large whites than woodpigeons from the train, today the weather was too cool and gloomy for butterflies. It poured down as the train arrived at Brunswick but cleared up slightly as I got off at Sandhills to wait for the Southport train.

Crosby Marine Lake 

The wind asserted itself as I walked into the park. Pied wagtails and starlings banked and drifted unsteadily before dropping into the grass. A few black-headed gulls moped around on the grass, a few more drifted about the lake which was quite deserted save a cormorant and a couple of sailboarders. A couple of common terns flew by and over to Seaforth Nature Reserve.

Herring gulls

A crowd of a couple of dozen herring gulls and a handful of lesser black-backs loafed on the grass by the boating pond, a few more drifted about on the lake. There weren't many mallards or Canada geese but plenty of coots and tufted ducks.

Starlings

The thicket of buckthorn and brambles at the corner of the lake was busy with starlings and house sparrows though only a couple of either could be seen. The rest were betrayed by cheeps and mutterings and the frequent bouncing about of twigs.

Sea holly

The dunes provided a modicum of shelter before the full onslaught of the seafront. It was lowish tide and it felt like the entire beach was making a bid to cover the promenade. I was walking round like a pebble-dashed idiot as the sand clung to the sun block on my face and I'll be emptying sand out of my ears for weeks. 

Crosby Beach 

The usual party of carrion crows looked a bit disconsolate as they sheltered as best could behind sand mounds. A pied wagtail flew in and immediately ran for shelter. All the gulls were loafing at the tideline, even the black-headed gulls that usually rummage about on the exposed sand banks or go shrimping in pools. The wind was so strong even a great black-back passing close by had to tack into it to make progress. All the other gulls and the common terns and cormorants rode the wind and headed straight for the reserve.

Curlew

It felt slightly more sheltered as I walked along the fence to look over the nature reserve. Shelducks dozed on the grass, linnets and greenfinches muttered from the bramble thicket. There were more shelducks on the water with dozens of Canada geese and a handful of bar-tailed godwits. There was a lot of noise coming from the tern colony but I couldn't tell the cause. As I moved down I could see a few curlews and lapwings with the shelducks and godwits on the pool and there were a couple of curlews asleep on the grass. Oystercatchers and black-headed gulls made a racket as they flew about.

At last I could see what was going on with the terns. A group of people on boats were at the rafts, it looked like they were ringing the young terns. I was surprised they hadn't put helmets on, I wouldn't fancy being cracked on the head by an angry tern. Above the rafts a cloud of noisy protest wheeled around. I couldn't imagine for one moment I'd be able to pick out the roseate tern, if indeed it was there to be found. A rather clean-looking bird I had to put down as a "commic" teen as I didn't get a long enough look at it to confirm it as an Arctic tern before it vanished into the crowd and I couldn't pick it up again later. While I was searching for it a very white, long-billed shape did a figure of eight across my line of view and I had the roseate tern on the day list.

Common tern

A couple of terns with beaks full of fish wheeled around the marine lake waiting for the interlopers to get out of the way so they could return to their nests.

Southern marsh orchid

The Southern marsh orchids in the grass by the car park were nearly all gone to seed. I wandered over to the little nature reserve for a walk round, beckoned hither by singing blackbirds, blackcaps and chiffchaffs. This is one of those places where you can reliably hear Cetti's warbler so of course I didn't hear one today.

I limped back into Waterloo and decided not to visit another site, tempting though it was to go and see what was on Lunt Meadows. I took a circuitous route home and persuaded the cat to come in out of the rain.