Black-tailed godwits, Leighton Moss

Thursday, 29 January 2026

New Moss Wood

Blue tit

No two days are the same lately. Today was cool and grey and the wind had a cutting edge. Still a bit weary after yesterday's efforts I belayed the ambitious plans for today and had a gentle toddle round New Moss Wood.

I got the train to Irlam and walked past the allotments to Moss Road. Despite the weather robins, starlings and goldfinches were singing in the gardens and rooftops. The path through the allotment was busy with blackbirds and a song thrush sang from the railway embankment.

There was a short detour as I had a nosy down the old access road for the junction with the abandoned Wigan to Stockport line. The hedgerows were busy with great tits, chaffinches and robins. The Rowson Drive playing field was busy with black-headed gulls and magpies.

I returned to Moss Road and walked up to New Moss Wood. Robins and woodpigeons sang in the trees of the gardens I passed and every bush seemed to have a singing goldfinch and a mob of house sparrows.

Going into New Moss Wood 

New Moss Wood 

The wood, in contrast, was fairly quiet. There were plenty of birds but not many of them were singing. Wrens, robins and great tits expressed their objections to my passing by. Dunnocks watched me from log piles. Jays and pheasants silently glided across rides and disappeared into the trees. Even the magpies and woodpigeons went about their business quietly.

A lot of thinning out

The Woodland Trust has been doing a lot of thinning out of the trees. By the looks of it there was some significant help and/or hinderance by Winter storms. It was particularly noticeable in the centre of the wood where the transition from the trees to the open rides felt less abrupt. It'll be interesting to see how or if it makes a difference to the Summer migrant birds.

The central ride

I played leapfrog down the central ride with a mixed flock of about a dozen each of blue tits and great tits. Although they were acting as a flock they were moving about through the trees in pairs. Great tits en masse demonstrate a wide range of vocalisations — if you ever hear an unfamiliar small bird sound in woodland the odds are it'll be a great tit. One of these had a classic metallic hammer on anvil call. Another had evidently heard an oystercatcher some time. Yet another sounded like somebody tapping a brass plate with a pencil. There was also a varied selection of squeaks, chips and churrs.

The dragonfly pools looked cold and dark

New Moss Wood 

A song thrush was singing in a willow by the car park as I emerged into Moss Road. More blue tits and goldfinches bounced through the bushes and a flock of chaffinches flew out of the wood and over to the poplars on Astley Road.

Moss Road looking over to Astley Road

As I walked back past the allotments the hedgerows were busy with blackbirds and song thrushes though I couldn't see much in the way of berries that might be attracting crowds. A couple of greenfinches joined the songscape. I was glad to get on the bus and out of the wind.

Wednesday, 28 January 2026

Martin Mere

Black-tailed godwit

A cold and frosty night turned into a bright, sunny and mild day. The morning's errands completed I got the train to New Lane and headed for Martin Mere.

Pink-footed geese 

It was just after noon when I got off the train at New Lane. I was greeted with the sight of fifty-odd pink-footed geese in a line across the field by the station. I made sure to check they were all pink-footed geese. The only little egret I saw all day sat in the corner of the field behind them.

I worried a bit about disturbing the geese as I walked down the path by the line but I was behind the hedgerow, the birds knew I was there and they'd have seen enough people walking their dogs for me to be okay so long as I kept walking. Sure enough, half the geese were on alert and kept an eye on me until I was well past their field but they all stayed put. Even when another couple of dozen geese flew in but didn't settle and flew off towards Martin Mere.

Walking by the railway

The mild and sunny day had brought out the songbirds. Woodpigeons, wrens, robins and goldfinches sang in the trees and bushes and there was a loud chattering of house sparrows and great tits in the hedgerows. Pied wagtails skittered about the wet fields, there were considerably more of them with the scores of starlings on the filtration pans in the water treatment works. Judging by the clouds of midges I was walking through there would have been good pickings for them. They were joined by a meadow pipit and a small flock of linnets flew over and settled on the ground nearby.

Pied wagtail 

Robins and stonechats fussed about in the brambles by the railway crossing and a charm of goldfinches was fossicking about in the dried grasses and burdocks. A kestrel hovered over the other end of the field. 

The Harrier Hide can be seen in the distance

I walked down to where the collapsed shed had been — I've lost a landmark now it's been tidied away — and had a look over the field beyond. The longhorn cattle were grazing but there was no sign of the cattle egrets I'd been hoping to see. A few crows, yes, but no egrets. Something moved in the corner of my eye so I turned and saw a pair of mallards swim away down the drain. Behind them something blue caught my eye. It was a kingfisher, lurking deep in the reeds. I turned back for another look for egrets. The pair of marsh harriers that had been frolicking in the long grass might have been the reason they weren't there.

Looking over to the railway

As I joined the path around the reedbed boundary I had another look back at the cattle, just in case. Crows. Magpies. A funny-looking crow on a fencepost… The penny was a long time dropping. I've been here, done this, got the t-shirt already. The glossy ibis was back for a return engagement.

The reedbed walk 

The walking was good to soft. Every so often the marshy pools in the wayside would overwhelm the path but they were shallow enough not to go over my boots. The hedgerows were quietly busy with blackbirds, robins and great tits. A family of long-tailed tits were nearly invisible in the depths of some hawthorns. Woodpigeons and magpies clattered about, jackdaws and black-headed gulls made a row as they passed overhead. The little path to the corner of the water treatment works has been fenced off for some reason. I only caught a short look at the chiffchaff I'd been hearing as I was approaching.

Oak apples

A pair of great spotted woodpeckers decided to play court in the tree just above my head just at the moment I was gripping the wire fence to the reserve's bird collections as I negotiated that particularly deep and tricky puddle on the path to the road. 

A party of tree fellers were chopping down the trees at the roadside and there was more felling work being done in the reserve.

The waterfowl were already gathering for a feed

Pochard

I headed straight to the Discovery Hide where, even though the swan feeding wasn't due for an hour yet the waterfowl were all assembling at this corner. There were plenty of whooper swans and greylags amongst the scores of mallards and wigeons and dozens of pintails, pochards, shelducks, tufted ducks and coots. It took me a while to find the ring-necked duck, then I glanced down to get my camera, looked back up, and not only couldn't I find the ring-necked duck again, I couldn't find the six tufted ducks I was using as a reference point for finding it. 

Whoopers, mallards, wigeons, pochards and pintails
This time of year, when I'm staring into the sun at the Discovery Hide, I miss the old Swan Link Hide which faced Northwest.

Cormorants dried their wings on distant islands, black-headed gulls made a racket, a great black-back cruised about on the water. That might have been why the lapwings were being so skittish. Every so often they'd have a panic, spook the starlings, black-tailed godwits and ruffs feeding on the far bank, wheel about a couple of times then settle back where they were. Something had been going on earlier because there was a corpse of a something that a lesser black-back and a couple of carrion crows were jostling over in the far corner. Behind them another crow was picking a fight with a great white egret over something in a drain.

Whooper cygnet starting to show adult colouring

During one of the lapwing panics a dozen black-tailed godwits peeled off the flock and settled down in front of the hide. They spent more time quarrelling with each other than feeding.

Mallard and black-tailed godwit

Pintail

Black-tailed godwits 

Whoopers and mallards

Whoopers and mallards

Pintails, mallards and wigeons

It was a pleasant walk down to the Rob Barker Hide though a bit quiet of birds. A few chaffinches and great tits tried to squeeze past the woodpigeons monopolising the bird feeders by the snowdrops. Great tits, robins and blue tits fidgeted about in the trees. More jackdaws and black-headed gulls flew overhead. The feeders in the hedgerows just before the Ron Barker Hide were busy with greenfinches and chaffinches.

Snowdrops

From the Ron Barker Hide 

The Ron Barker Hide was very busy, it wasn't just me taking advantage of the sun, so I didn't stay long. A gaggle of greylags grazed the bank in front of the hide, Canada geese grazed by the pool to the right. I had distant views of three female-type marsh harriers and a buzzard sat on a distant fencepost before I left. It wasn't really the crowded hide that made me leave, I needed to go and sit on a bench and stretch my leg, the knee was feeling the effects of negotiating that deep puddle. It's not something you can really do in a busy hide.

Greylags

Walking back past the snowdrops 

On the walk back it occured to me that I was exhausted. I'm not doing enough walking lately and my stamina's not what it should be. I decided to call it quits and walk over to Burscough Bridge for the train home. I hadn't added cattle egrets to the year list but had added whooper swan, glossy ibis and ring-necked duck.

Martin Mere, by the visitor centre 

As I crossed the road from Martin Mere the tree fellers were still at work but had moved along a hundred yards or so. A small flock of black-headed gulls were feeding on the ground that had been disturbed. And also a cattle egret. I laughed out loud, which understandably disturbed the egret and it flew over to join the sheep further up the field.

Along Tarlscough Lane

I was treated to some glorious skies as I walked to Burscough Bridge. Ahead of me in the distance Winter Hill was a medley of pinks and greys, the fields by the roadside were emerald greens and golds. A covey of partridges bustling about in one of the paddocks were unidentifiable silhouettes until one flew up onto the lower rail of the fence and the setting sun caught the orange of its tail and told me they were grey partridges.

Along Red Cat Lane 

Just as you get into town there's a fallow field surrounded by hawthorn hedges. The cattle egrets  I hadn't been seeing at Martin Mere were on there.

Cattle egrets

I checked the day's tally on the train home. It came to 71 species. I didn't feel so bad about feeling so tired.

Red Cat Lane 


Tuesday, 27 January 2026

Alkrington Woods

Twilight descends on the River Irk

It was a thoroughly grim and stormy start to the day. Both I and the birds in the back garden kept under cover. Across the road the school playing field was carpeted in jackdaws and gulls. I had no intention of going for a walk.

The need to get a new monthly travel card asserted itself so I went into town and got one. Oxford Road on Tuesday wasn't a lot better than Oxford Road on Monday and the station staff had my sympathy. Nonetheless I wanted to get some value out of the new card so I decided to go over Victoria, get the train to Rochdale and see if I could get the Town Hall peregrines onto my year list.

Manchester Victoria was considerably worse than Oxford Road. The key problem here was that the Transpennine line between Greenfield and Huddersfield was closed due to damage caused by a fire this weekend. Consequently all the trains not replaced by buses were going through Rochdale and Halifax, which is a fairly busy route anyway, and everything had snarled up. This is what happens when successive governments of all stripes spend forty years announcing plans for new Transpennine rail routes and doing nothing about them while closing ones that already exist.

I gave it up and went for the bus. The 100 to the Trafford Centre was due in ten minutes, I'd get that and go home. The 59 turned up before it, I remembered that goes by Alkrington Woods and the sun was threatening to show its face. So I had an hour's wander round the woods as the sun went down.

Canada geese, mute swans, black-headed gulls, tufted ducks and a herring gull

The lodge by Manchester Old Road was busy with mute swans, Canada geese and tufted ducks. Black-headed gulls had a pre-roost wash while pairs of coots squabbled and fought for the territorial rights of stretches of water they then swam away and ignored.

Perch Pool 

The next lodge along the causeway, Perch Pool, was busy with mallards and coots. I almost missed the pair of gadwalls in the shadows of the willows, half a dozen wigeons were dozing midwater.

River Irk

I walked along the River Irk into Middleton. Robins, great tits and blue tits sang in the trees. Wrens scolded my passing by. Woodpigeons, magpies and parakeets clattered about in the trees. 

Alkrington Woods 

As I approached the entry onto Manchester Old Road a bullfinch sang wistfully deep in one of the willow trees. It rather matched the blues and pinks and greys of the twilight.


Monday, 26 January 2026

Garston and Speke

Jackdaws, Garston 

I thought I'd start the week with a twitch, so the week started with a cancelled train. Start as you mean to go on I always say. And it turned out today was the day that ring-necked parakeet stopped being a garden flyover and became a visitor.

Ring-necked parakeet
A first-Winter bird lacking the pink ring round its neck.

Ring-necked parakeet 

The train services were having a Monday meltdown. I had to get the train into Manchester to get the train out to Liverpool (I wasn't waiting until lunchtime for the next one) and we spent quarter of an hour stuck at Castlefield Junction. The departure boards at Oxford Road were something to behold, but not in a nice way. I eventually got to Liverpool South Parkway, only a bit over an hour late because I'd bought a ticket that allowed me to get the express, and the rest of the day was pretty plain sailing.

I was chasing the great-tailed grackle that's turned up in the trees around Speke Hall. Great-tailed grackle is one of those birds that make you run through your rules for your British list. It's not a bird likely to come to Britain under its own steam. There are lots of stories of them hitching rides on boats for a cruise around the Caribbean. If one's got here it's vanishingly unlikely it wasn't a ship-assisted passage. Species that have only occurred in the UK due to ship-assisted arrival get put into Category E of the Official British List, along with escapes and releases of exotic birds and don't count (but are recorded for study — today's exotic release may be tomorrow's invasive species). In my British list I differentiate between ship-assisted birds and escapes, my list, my rules. The bird brought itself here, it just didn't fly or walk. The lack of intention to come here is no different to a long-distant migrant getting caught in a hurricane. You may have different rules for your list. Your list, your rules.

There's a fair bit of parkland around Speke Hall for a magpie-sized bird to play hide and seek in which probably explains the sporadic bursts of reports of sightings and gaps where nothing was reported at all. The last report, yesterday lunchtime, had it in trees by the Estuary Industrial Estate. I decided I'd start there, it's closest to the station, and walk round into the Speke and Garston Coastal Park and into the grounds of Speke Hall from there. That way, if I dipped on the grackle I'd have got some birdwatching in. And I was pretty sure I was going to dip on the grackle.

All the birds that were roughly magpie-sized and shaped in the industrial estate were magpies. Mallards puttered about in the ponds by the roadside while moorhens fossicked about in the verges. A crowd of jackdaws rummaged about in the grass at the corner of the road.

Speke and Garston Coastal Park

I dropped down into Sefton and Garston Coastal Park. Halfway down the steps I spotted a male kestrel coming in to hunt just before a great tit sounded the alarm. Even taking the kestrel into account it was very quiet in the open scrub land, just a few magpies bouncing round. The trees by the sailing club were a bit more productive with a small group of blue tits and great tits and a couple of bullfinches rummaging about in the lower branches.

Along the slipway

The tide was low so I walked halfway down the slipway to see what was on the river. There were plenty of birds about, all of them keeping their distance. Out on the mud banks of the river black-headed gulls and herring gulls loafed well away from a pair of great black-backs. Closer by, teal, redshanks and a ringed plover bustled about the end of the slipway. There were more redshanks and ringed plovers with the curlews on the bank downstream of the slipway. There were also some possible dunlins and a wader that might have been a knot or a grey plover, the light defeated me before they scuttled out of sight. Upstream there were small groups of teals and mallards at the waterside and some more curlews stalking the mud.

This time last year I was heading East down the dodgy path towards Oglet. This time I followed the path going North and into the Speke Hall estate. The hedgerows were busy with robins, blackbirds and dunnocks, chaffinches pinked and song thrushes sang in the trees.

Walking towards Speke Hall 

I bumped into a couple who had first seen and heard the grackle a few weeks ago but hadn't the first idea what it was until somebody else saw it and identified it last week. They'd seen it again since and told me if I carried on the path I was walking I might strike lucky. I wished them luck with the hummingbird hunting they were planning for their holidays.

The big pond

There were plenty of carrion crows, jackdaws and magpies about in the trees. Moorhens and mallards puttered about in the big pond. It was a very agreeable walk. I was overindulging my yen for landscape photography when I noticed a bird flying this way from a bank of trees near the industrial estate. It was roughly magpie-sized and shaped but wasn't a magpie: it was all glossy bluish black and the body to tail proportion was wrong for a magpie, there was a lot of tail and it flared out at the end instead of tapering. I had about fifteen seconds' view of a great-tailed grackle before it disappeared behind the conifers between me and the hall. By the time I'd put my 'phone away and dug out the camera it had gone. I spent a short while looking for it but gave up, I'd already been luckier than I'd deserved to be.

Speke Hall 

Stockton's Wood 

A wander round Stockton's Wood was picturesque but quiet, when I emerged into the parkland along The Walk the small birds I hadn't been seeing in the woods were fizzing about the trees. The trees by the gatehouse were very busy with blue tits, the great spotted woodpecker and jay in the trees on the other side of the road were harder to spot.

Ivy berries 

The Walk

I'd bought a Saveaway so I had a bit of a wander round for an hour or so before coming back to the river. I got off the train at Aigburth and walked down to Otterspool Park for a stroll along the promenade in the fading light. The tide was high and the wind was bitterly cold. Even in this murky light I could pick up the big rafts of black-headed gulls and smaller rafts of large gulls, mostly herring gulls with a handful of lesser black-backs. A couple of great black-backs upset some herring gulls. A few common gulls blew in with the wind and headed upstream. Cormorants and oystercatchers headed in the same direction, probably to the roots beyond Hale.

Otterspool Promenade 

I'd started the day with ring-necked parakeets and so I ended the day with them screeching in the trees near Aigburth Station.