Mosses

River Glaze, Little Woolden Moss
Canada geese, teal and mallards on the river.

It was another gloomy but dry and relatively mild morning. I noticed that if I got a shift on I could get a train that wasn't cancelled in to Irlam for a walk over the mosses. At Irlam I got the 67 into Cadishead and then I crossed over into Glazebrook. As I passed over the bridge a pair of mallards dabbled upstream in the Glaze and a pair of mute swans browsed downstream.

Black-headed gulls and lapwings, Glazebrook 

Walking through Glazebrook the hedgerows were busy with titmice. On the approach to the motorway a couple of fields were heaving with a couple of hundred lapwings, a hundred or so black-headed gulls and fifty-odd starlings. On the other side of the road a couple of buzzards called to each other in the trees near Woolden Road. It was as I was trying to take a photo of one of them I discovered I'd left the camera card in my laptop at home. My, how I laughed.

Shaggy ink caps
Some were a foot tall.

I walked up to Little Woolden Moss. The Glaze here was busy with dozens of Canada geese, teal and mallards. The fields were quiet of birds but there were plenty passing overhead: a steady traffic of woodpigeons, black-headed gulls and starlings and a flock of a dozen stock doves.

Little Woolden Moss 

There were more black-headed gulls on the bits of the Western pools visible from the path. The walk down to the Eastern pools was very quiet indeed, just the odd robin or wren and a couple of long-tailed tits in the birch trees. There were clouds of non-biting midges but it was too gloomy for the last of the common darters to be about. At least one of the non-biting midges turned out to be an imposter.

Cross-leaved heath 

Cladonia 

Little Woolden Moss 

I shared tales of empty notebooks with a birder coming the other way. He'd decided to head over for a walk along the Glaze as he reckoned he'd worked out the spot favoured by the great white egret that's been seen around recently. I hope he got it. Within minutes of our parting I had had a kestrel, a snipe and an immature female peregrine pass overhead at treetop height. The number of times I've had a peregrine pass by that close can be counted on the fingers of my left foot, but no chance of a photo. A female reed bunting struck a series of picturesque poses in a birch tree by the path as though safe in the knowledge a camera wasn't going to be pointed her way.

Ten Greenland white-fronted geese had been reported on Mosslands Farm on the field just North of the reserve. Looking over that way I saw a group of birdwatchers pointing in the right direction so I assumed they were still around to be looked at. It's an odd thing: up to the late nineties every white-fronted goose I saw was a Greenland white-front, the past twenty years they've all been Russian (or European if you prefer). These days it's an event if a Greenland white-front appears East of North Wales so double figures is something special. As I walked round that way there was a lot of noise from the neighbouring field with the rattle of a couple of fieldfares and a kestrel mobbing a buzzard sat in a tree on the field margin.

Six of the geese were showing excellently at the far side of the field of Winter barley. I don't have any photos of Greenland white-fronted geese; the reader is left to imagine the colloquial Anglo-Saxon running through my head as I looked at them. For all that they key identification factor is the colour of the bill (orange for Greenland, pink for Russian), it was immediately obvious which they were even before I pointed my binoculars at them. Russian white-fronts are a very similar shade of brown to the other grey geese, Greenland white-fronts are an oily dark brown, darker even than juvenile pink-feet. The orange beaks confirmed the ID though mud and gloomy light dulled them down a lot.

Twelve Yards Road

I walked through Chat Moss into Irlam. A mixed tit flock at Four Lanes End included a dozen long-tailed tits, a few blue tits and great tits and a goldcrest. The field just to the North of Twelve Yards Road was busy with dozens of carrion crows, stock doves and starlings; a couple of woodpigeons and about fifty fieldfares flew overhead. The male kestrel was sitting on the telegraph pole by Four Lanes End, a couple of immature kestrels were hunting a little further down the road. I'm surprised they've not been chased off yet. There weren't many chaffinches about and no buntings of any sort. There weren't any meadow pipits about either and just the one skylark and a handful of linnets.

Cutnook Lane 

There was another mixed tit flock on Cutnook Lane, this one including a chiffchaff as well as a goldcrest. Down the bottom of the lane one of the fields has been put to grazing sheep and they were outnumbered by magpies, jackdaws and pied wagtails.

All sorts of unlikely flowers were still in bloom but my knees were saying it was November. It was still only early afternoon but I decided to call it quits once I got into Irlam and I headed home.

Bramble

Orrell

Blackbird

I didn't feel like doing a right lot today and was in the mood for a dawdle round somewhere. I've not got round to having a look round Orrell Water Park and Greenslate Water Meadows this year, it was time for a visit.

I got off the train and walked round the corner to the water park. A few woodpigeons clattered about and great tits and robins called in the trees as I walked through to the lake. The paths were muddy but passable and although it was gloomy it was good Autumn walking.

Orrell Water Park 

There was a crowd of black-headed gulls, mallards and moorhens over by the car park and a handful of coots mooched about midwater away from the anglers. There were just a few coots and a couple of moorhens on the top pool.

Greenslate Water Meadows 

Greenslate Water Meadows was busy with a mixed flock of titmice and chaffinches. About a dozen blue tits bounced about in the company of a handful each of long-tailed tits and great tits, a dozen or so chaffinches, a coal tit and a treecreeper. I suspect there were more I was missing in the dogwoods and willows on the other side of the brook near the entrance. Robins bobbed about by the paths, wrens grumbled in the undergrowth and every bush with berries had two or three blackbirds making inroads on them. Overhead there was a steady passage of woodpigeons and the first of the jackdaws were flying off to roost.

Treecreeper

Greenslate Water Meadows 

Walking back past the top pool there was a flash of electric blue as a kingfisher flew from the bankside into the trees on the island.

It will surprise the reader not one bit to find the  next two trains from Orrell to Manchester were cancelled. Nor that when I got off the bus at Wigan Wallgate the station was packed because there were cancellations on the Southport line as well. Given the number of cancellations someone at Northern Rail decided it was a good idea to run the next Southport to Oxford Road train as a two-carriage service instead of the usual four. When I got to Oxford Road my train home was cancelled. It looks like we're in for a Winter wonderland of fun on the trains.

Orrell Station 

Denbighshire

Herring gulls, Colwyn Bay 

It was another mild and mizzly day in Manchester with the tops of the vainglorious tower blocks of the city centre lost in the clouds so the obvious thing to do was to go to the seaside to look for distant ducks.

I had an envelope full of rail travel vouchers to use up so I put half of them towards a return ticket to Colwyn Bay. A surf scoter's been reported all week as being in the rafts of common scoters in the bay, I thought I'd have a go at finding it. And if no joy it's a nice place for a bit of seawatching anyway. There's a surf scoter on the North Wales coast most Winters, I don't know if it's the same bird each time. Last year I struck lucky and saw a couple of them off Llandulas.

It became a clear, bright, cloudy day. The line along the North Wales coast has plenty to recommend it for the sedentary birdwatcher though I could have done with the train finding some signals to stop at so I could have a proper look at some of the waders. Carrion crows, woodpigeons, jackdaws and herring gulls were the staple fare. Here or there there'd be a crowd of black-headed gulls, little egrets or redshanks. A flock of pink-feet grazing in a field near Llanerch-y-Môr viaduct was unexpected .A herd of mute swans seemed to have Rhyl Marine Lake to themselves. Half a dozen drake goosanders were showing off to a couple of redheads as the train passed over the Clwyd.

Colwyn Bay 

I got off at Colwyn Bay and walked round to the beach. The path under the expressway comes out at the pier, it would have been rude not to walk to the end to do a bit of seawatching. 

Mackerel fishermen 

It was a couple of hours after high tide but unlike the Wirral there's a steep shelf just offshore so the sea doesn't go far out. Close by there was a steady passage of herring gulls and there was almost as many black-headed gulls and cormorants as mackerel fishermen setting up their gear on the tideline. Carrion crows and jackdaws fussed about on the beach.

At first sight the sea at Colwyn Bay was empty

It wasn't.
You'll need to click on this picture to enlarge it enough to see the common scoters. There are a few pale cheeked females at the front.

About half a mile out the sea was littered with hundreds of common scoter. It took about ten minutes to get my eye in so I was seeing duck shapes rather than than indistinct dots. I was helped a lot by a few groups drifting in ever so slightly, once I had them in focus the further groups became less difficult. A great crested grebe swimming past about a hundred yards out helped me establish a sense of scale. Hundreds of common scoters. With just my bins to play with I wrote off my chances of seeing any other type of scoter out there without the aid of Providence.

Walking to Old Colwyn

It's a nice walk down the prom towards Old Colwyn. A crowd of herring gulls bathed in the outflow by the Port Eirias Centre in the company of a few black-headed gulls and jackdaws, a gang of carrion crows and a great black-back. A little further on a couple of oystercatchers probed the mud by the seawall.

Herring gulls and carrion crow, Colwyn Bay 

Herring gulls and carrion crow, Colwyn Bay 

Herring gulls, great black-back and carrion crow, Colwyn Bay 

Colwyn Bay 

I kept stopping and scanning the distant scoters. A couple of odd-looking birds turned out to be the back ends of fishing cormorants. Then I saw a flash of white where there shouldn't be one. The surf scoter must have been three-quarters of a mile out but it was facing me and reared up to stretch its wings. A flash of white on the front of the head then it settled down on the water and I lost it in the crowd. I saw it again a few hundred yards down the prom, it had turned its back to the shore, making it very much harder to pick out the white markings on the head. I owe Providence a cup of tea.

Heron and little egret, Colwyn Bay 

Aside from the two oystercatchers I hadn't seen any waders on the beach, it was far too busy with people and dogs. I passed a couple of small stone groynes and had no luck finding turnstones. The third one I passed was different: there were a dozen of them fossicking about on that one. And only that one, I didn't see any more further along. A couple of rock pipits flitted about the sea wall but didn't settle. A bit further along a heron and a little egret shared the fishing on a pool. And out at sea there were more distant scoters.

Old Colwyn

River Clwyd 

I didn't have the legs in me for the walk to Llandulas so I went into Old Colwyn and got the bus to Kimmel Bay for a potter about Horton's Nose and the harbour. The tide was well out here, the tideline marked by a distant line of cormorants. The best part of a hundred gulls loafed on the beach, a large flock of herring gulls and a few smaller flocks of black-headed gulls, there were plenty of both flying about with an eye on the half-term main chance. A pair of goosanders fished the river by the harbour, redshanks and black-tailed godwits rummaged about in the mud, and a large flock of pigeons had congregated on the mud under the road bridge for I know not what reason.

Horton's Nose 

River Clwyd 

The sun finally made an appearance as I walked over to Rhyl Station for the train home, walking by the marine lake on my way. The herd of mute swans shared the lake with a lone goosander and a small flock of black-headed gulls, a few herons and cormorants loafing and dozing on the island.

Rhyl Marine Lake 

The North Wales coast in the golden hour was my reward for good timing for the journey back. Shelducks dabbled in the mud as the train passed close by the Flintshire coast. I often mock myself for staring out of train windows in the forlorn hope of seeing an owl in the twilight. As we passed Hawarden Airport there was still enough light to watch a short-eared owl as it floated low over the trackside field.

Trains

The frequent reader might suspect that I exaggerate our local train cancellations for comedic effect. This is this morning's performance.

We've not had a 0924 for eight years. Today's 0848 was cancelled and the next train had extra stops added.

Dreich

It was a day of almost unrelenting mizzle, the damp penetrating to the soul of man and beast alike. I had two plans for today, both of them contingent on my leaving the house early and having the energy to be bothered. The cat tried her best with the first, I wasn't equal to either. It was still plenty early enough for any number of birdwatching expeditions but the weather conspired with my bone-idleness so I had breakfast and set to with the task of drinking far too much tea before heading out for a late afternoon walk over the mosses to see what was going to roost and if any owls were about.

The spadgers and great tits finished off the last of the sunflower seeds and started making inroads on the suet blocks I've put out. I'm putting the blocks out rather than fat balls to stop the squirrels stealing the lot. They've learned how to spring open the caps to the fat ball holders whereas the blocks are in sturdy metal cages that can be threaded onto the feeding station hooks so the weight of the cages keeps them closed. The squirrels can still have a feed but so can everyone else. They'll soon have other things on their minds, there's already a lot of flirting going on along the garden fence. And judging by the sounds coming down the chimney the jackdaws are getting a bit amorous, too.

I'm surprised by how quickly I've gotten used to the parakeets being part of the local soundscape. They're keeping to the parks and roadside trees so far. Fingers crossed they'll stay there and out of my garden.

Humphrey Park Station 

It had been so gloomy the lights at the station had been on all day. It was still only mid-afternoon as I stood in the boding gloom and watched the starlings, parakeets and magpies start to make tracks to roost. There were a couple of dozen starlings, I don't know where they go all day but mid-afternoon they congregate in a couple of big sycamores a couple of roads down before flying off to roost. The magpies have spent all day on the school playing field. The flock of sixteen parakeets came as a shock, I've only been seeing them in threes or fours.

The train was late leaving Oxford Road because it had to wait for the Transpennine Express train that was running even later than usual. I peered into the gloom, the mist hiding the trees and houses a hundred yards away. Did I really want to go traipsing across the mosses in this then hang about til twilight before heading home? Not really. So I didn't. I'll feel dead guilty about it later.

Wirral

Shelducks, Meols

The morning trains were behaving themselves today so I had the trip out to the Wirral I'd planned for yesterday. The aim being to look out for turnstones, ringed plovers and any other waders I've not seen lately and particularly to try and find some black-tailed godwits as I've not seen any on the Wirral this year which is unusual.

Joining Meols Promenade by the lifeboat station 

It was threatening to be a sunny day when I set off but it was pouring down as we passed through Widnes. As I got off the train at Manor Road and walked down to the lifeboat station it was a gloomy grey day with a surprisingly mild breeze.

Shelduck, Hoylake 

It was a couple of hours after high tide so there was a great stretch of wet muddy sand punctuated here and there with curlews, redshanks and shelducks before the distant lines of tideline cormorants and great black-backs. Closer by redshanks, mallards and shelducks dodged in and out of the stretches of wet marram and sea plantain while linnets and pied wagtails rummaged around in deep cover.

Little egret, Hoylake 

A few little egrets shrimped on the pools by the seawall. Every so often a passing dog would get giddy and make chase, the egrets would bark raucously as they took flight, land a few yards to the side and return immediately the dog was on its way.

Shelducks, Hoylake 

Beyond the marram a few dunlins skittered about on the mud and a couple of grey plovers, hunchbacked, slowly stalked about and snapped at shrimps and passing flies.

Walking down the promenade the marram gave way to muddy sand and samphire. Small groups of shelducks came closer to the seawall while knots and oystercatchers joined the redshanks further out. I still hadn't seen any ringed plovers though. A flock of small plovers flew past but they were all dunlins. They headed for Hoylake, I carried on walking into Meols.

By Meols Promenade 

The mud and meandering creeks and rills of Meols beach were littered with oystercatchers, redshanks and loafing herring gulls. Small groups of shelducks dabbled in the wet mud, curlews stalked alone and contorted themselves as they battled to dig ragworms out of their tunnels.

Rock pipit, Meols

A quick call and a passing dark shape turned out to be a rock pipit which landed on the algae-strewn seawall and ducked its head down every time the camera got it in focus. They know, you know. I don't know why but I'm always slightly surprised by how big rock pipits are, and how dark.

Turnstones, Meols

I joined the revetment and walked down to the groyne. Black-headed gulls called noisily from the pools at the foot of the wall and turnstones rummaged about in the stranded seaweed.

Beyond the groyne a couple of herons and some cormorants fished the deeper pools, herring gulls and lesser black-backs loafed on sandbanks and black-headed gulls generally fussed about.

Leasowe Common, Leasowe Lighthouse on the left

I left the revetment and dropped down onto Leasowe Common as patches of blue sky showed themselves and the sun threatened to come out. I dallied with the idea of taking the muddy track into the trees but elected to stay on the metalled path and keep my ears open. Robins, wrens and goldfinches skittered about and a couple of meadow pipits flew overhead but it was pretty quiet overall.

I turned onto the path that passes by the pond. There was no sign of the usual moorhens and even though it was so mild it was evidently too dull even for common darters to be out. A flock of goldfinches bounced about in the treetops by the horse paddocks and a great spotted woodpecker called from a big tree over the other side.

Chiffchaff, Leasowe Common 

I let on to another birdwatcher as we crossed along the path through the trees by the paddocks. He'd been watching a goldcrest in the willows further up. As I walked on I kept an eye out for any warblers. A flash of white wing stripe in a sycamore tree caught my eye found me a small flock of chaffinches. It soon became apparent they were part of a larger mixed flock: blue tits, long-tailed tits and goldfinches were busy and conspicuous, great tits and goldcrests more self-effacing. A chiffchaff bounded up and fed in the branches just overhead. The Cetti's warbler I'd hoped to hear when I walked past the pond decided to have a bit of a sing now I was fifty yards away. A couple of blackbirds came up to see what I was about and decided I was of no consequence; a dunnock decided it was time I was on my way. After a minute or two I decided to take the hint.

Black-tailed godwits, Kerr's Field 

I found the godwits I'd been missing at Kerr's Field. In their Winter greys they sorted of melted into the vivid greens of the wet grass and were surprisingly difficult to see. The oystercatchers, pied wagtails and curlews in the field were a bit more conspicuous.

Curlew and black-tailed godwit, Kerr's Field 

Over on the far side of the field a couple of wigeon, the drake in ginger eclipse plumage, grazed amongst the mallards in a deep puddle.

I walked up to Moreton Station and wondered if I had the time and energy to move on to another site. I decided I hadn't, I'd walked the stiffness out of the joints but not the aches and there was no point in spoiling an excellent afternoon's birdwatching. I might have felt differently had the sun not retreated behind a thick blanket of cloud.

Kerr's Field 

Home thoughts

It was a wet and dreary day, the first of many we're promised for this week. I had a couple of plans for avoiding the worst of the weather and a couple for getting wet but it would be worth it and all were kiboshed by such a long catalogue of cancelled trains I had to check it wasn't Saturday. I decided to have an early lunch and go out and get wet locally but then got sidetracked with a technical support call for my father then got home and found I had to sort out the same problem at home and by the time I'd finished with that I wondered if anything would actually be about: it was so gloomy at lunchtime the day shift would be going to roost and the night shift would be keeping undercover hoping the rain might abate a bit.

The carrion crow had started singing before dawn. It was a good hour later that the wren belted out its claim to the back garden and the robin rather later. I think this Winter I'm in the middle of a robin's territory rather than the edge, most of the singing's happening a few doors down either way. I was confused for a while as to the territories at the station but I think that what's happened is that the boundary runs diagonally along the line, one bird having most of the Western end of platform two, the Eastern half of the park and the steam roller's garden, the other having the rest of the station and the first terrace of houses along.

Grudging respect to the squirrel, by the way, for finding a way into the squirrel-proof feeder. Literally. I'd thought I'd been careless putting the lid back on the other day but I've just watched it take three minutes to open the spring catch and lever the lid open. It then hung upside down in the tube filling its mouth pouches with sunflower seeds before struggling its way back out backwards.

The absence of woodpigeons isn't as striking round here this year compared to last. There's usually one or two around the school and today I passed half a dozen on the way to my father's. Still nothing like the big Summer flocks or the relatively small but constant presence we have over Winter. There's still just the one collared dove kicking about though, I don't know where the others have got to.

It's half term so the usual gang of gulls tooled up to school bang on what was lunchtime last week, found there was nothing doing and headed off for the Trafford Centre. A couple of herring gulls lingered to dance for worms on the playing field but soon tired of the sport and followed the gang. It'll be interesting to see what happens next week when they come round at what is now 11am, find nothing doing, go away and find out they missed on the return to school lunchtime bonanza. I don't know what mechanism they use for passing the news around but I know they must have one, they always start drifting in in numbers a few days after the start of the Autumn term after a lean Summer.