Clifton Country Park

Nithatch

It was a lot cooler today — low to mid seventies in old money — and overcast. The mystery of the morning was why the collared dove should suddenly start singing at twenty to three in the morning and then suddenly stop. In my befuddled half-asleep state for a moment I wondered if a tawny owl was in the garden.

The lake at Clifton Country Park 

For some reason I felt achy and tired and headachy and I let the need to run an errand be the excuse not to go on the planned excursion for the day. Instead I played bus station bingo, got the 22 into Clifton and went for a walk round the country park.

Mute cygnet

The mute swans had well-grown cygnets in tow. I worried that one had a length of fishing line in its beak but it turned out to be a long length of fibre from a Himalayan balsam stem it had been chewing. The black-headed gulls had plenty of young birds with them, the adults were in that strange grey-headed phase where the white Winter plumage isn't quite replacing all the brown feathers on the head. The youngsters were in various stages of looking very tea-stained. The coots had small chicks, the mallard ducklings were full-grown and capable, just, of flight, and all the tufted ducks were adults.

Black-headed gull

River Irwell 

I walked round to the bridge over the Irwell into Bolton. The beach on the bend here always looks like there should be waders on it and there never is. Up North there'd be a common sandpiper sure as eggs. A few Canada geese cruised upstream, black-headed gulls and magpies caught midges by the outflow from the water treatment works and grey wagtails bobbed about on rocks by the bankside.

The path by the river

I turned back and took the path that follows the river downstream. It's a higgledy piggledy sort of a path, up and down like a rollercoaster, lurching round trees and here and there showing signs of disappearing into either the river or the hollow ground on the other side. It's rather fun when it's not muddy.

Mallards

The views of the river are mostly obscured by trees, which is frustrating when you can hear a kingfisher. Every so often there's a good view of the river, I found that if there weren't grey wagtails about there were mallards. I caught up with the kingfisher a few hundred yards downstream when it flew down a small course of rapids.

Grey wagtails

The birds in the woods by the path were mostly silent and skulking. Except the young robins that were showing off a bit. A pair of nuthatches were so busy being silent and skulking they didn't notice me standing by the tree they were feeding in. 

Juvenile robin 

The river was a lot lower than usual and was exposing large expanses of the sandstone strata it runs over and through. Brown hawkers patrolled over the shallows and rapids. My first common blue damselfly of the day was in the beak of a young grey wagtail. I was looking out for dippers and having no luck. I was also looking for goosanders and wasn't having much better luck until I spotted a couple of young redheads loafing on a shelf of damp sandstone. They'd spotted me first, barked and swam off downstream. It only occurred to me then that I had had no idea what noise a goosander makes.

The path by the river

I followed the path round as it turned away from the river to a little pond where common blue damselflies swarmed, pond skaters zipped about on the surface and broad-bodied chasers made inroads on the midge population. A little further on I had a sit-down to decide which paths to take back, having conceded it was too warm for the walk into Prestwich, and I was serenaded by a blackcap. Which probably just objected to my being there. I knew there's a bridge over the railway this side of the motorway so there should be a path into Clifton, I decided to take that as it was the shortest route to a bus stop.

At this point the knees had words. They were not nice words.

Luckily I knew there was a bridge there so I was looking for a path to it, it turned out to be an inconspicuous gap in some elderberry bushes. My knees asked if we really should be doing all them they steps, little did I know what lay ahead. The first few hundred yards on the other side was not the prettiest stretch of The Salford Trail but there was the consolation of watching a buzzard looking out for anything flushed out of cover by passing trains. 

The Salford Trail into Clifton

Then the path turned into some woodland. And lots of steps. At the fourth flight I noticed a path haring off to the left in the direction I was headed so I took that. Which turned out to be a gently sloping meander up the steep bank ending with a mad scramble up to the official path as it goes by Clifton Farm. Which all in all was a very nice walk even though it was very quiet birdwise.

I'd no sooner joined the path than I was passing St Anne's Church, which was dead handy as the bus stop on Manchester Road is by the front gate.

I was shattered when I got home and wondered why until the sensible voice in the back of my head I ignore a lot pointed out that even though it's a lot cooler than it was last week, by any objective measure today was A Hot Day. I'll try to bear this in mind.

A day out

Wren, Lapwing Hall Pool

Despite the weather being less fierce than it has been — but still a tad warm —I've had a very lazy weekend and felt the need to get some traipsing about done. I got myself an old man's explorer ticket, played Piccadilly Station bingo and found myself going to Stoke. Like you do.

The building work on the University of Staffordshire campus has cut off most of the footpaths to and around the River Trent on Manorfields. I walked across the sports field, across the bridge, and along the few hundred yards of path up to the construction site then retraced my steps back to the station. It wasn't an entirely wasted hour, though 

Comma

Magpies and black-headed gulls found what shade they could at the corners of the rugby pitch as they fossicked about in the parched grass. One magpie had had enough and clung to the base of a goalpost to catch its breath in its relatively deep shade. Meadow browns, gatekeepers and a comma bustled about in the thistles by the side.

Female large blue
I think. I couldn't get a better look than this at the underwing so there's the possibility it might be a brown argus. It wasn't attacking any other butterflies and it was that which persuaded me it was a female common blue in the end.

The walk was dominated by butterflies, most of the birds were rustlings in the trees and hedgerows. A mistle thrush joined the blackbirds feasting on rowan berries. Titmice flitted past like shadows, a chiffchaff squeaked, a jay screeched, a great spotted woodpecker called as it flew low overhead and into the trees by the construction site. 

Ringlet

The most picturesque stretch of the river had a child in it. He and his mother were having a picnic and I couldn't blame them. The mallards and moorhens muttered loudly about having their favourite lounging spot thus occupied. The moorhens, as ever, were very vocal about their grievances.

Mallards

I decided to go over to Acre Nook Quarry to see if I could find the ruddy shelduck that's spent the past few days there. It was a long shot as it was reported as being over at the far end of the quarry away from Lapwing Lane but don't try, don't see. I got the train back from Stoke, got off at Macclesfield and got the 87 bus to Chelford, getting off at Ivy House, just by the roundabout.

Chicken of the woods

It was a warm walk down Holmes Chapel Road and I was grateful for the shade of the roadside trees. In the eerie quiet — there weren't many cars either — a calling nuthatch sounded vaguely uncanny, a green woodpecker would have put the wind up me and no mistake. A coal tit came out of the trees to have a look at me as I negotiated the very narrow pavement over the South bridge and I was very glad to see it.

Holmes Chapel Road 

The sheep weren't on the parkland further down the road, the usual crowds of jackdaws evidently went with them. I walked under the dappled shade of the sweet chestnuts on my side of the road, tiptoeing round common blue damselflies and razzed by the blue tits in the hedgerow. Over the far side of the field behind the hedgerow the little pond was hidden by vegetation but was made conspicuous by the lush greens against the straw browns of the rest of the field and the dozen Canada geese and pair of Egyptian geese craning their necks to check me out.

Egyptian geese and Canada goose 

The walk down Lapwing Lane was pretty quiet. Swallows and house martins hawked overhead and tree sparrows muttered in the hedgerows.

Painted lady 

The path to Acre Nook Quarry was busy with common blue damselflies and the verges busy with gatekeepers, red admirals and painted ladies. Southern hawkers and emperor dragonflies patrolled the banks of the quarry and the edge of the trees by the path, and very intimidating they were too.

Acre Nook Quarry 

Nearly all the birds were way over the other side of the quarry, there was only a mallard and a couple of black-headed gulls on this side. There was a noisy raft of black-headed gulls further out, separate from a smaller raft of lesser black-backs and a few herring gulls. Great crested grebes, tufted ducks and coots pottered about, a couple of cormorants dried their wings and the far banks were littered with Canada geese and mallards. Way, way over there were lots of white dots that were almost certainly black-headed gulls and dark dots that may have been coots or tufties. Yonder, probably,  was the ruddy shelduck. Ah well, no matter, it was a fine day for seeing what you can find on a big pool. A drake pochard was a surprise. The reed buntings fussing about in the willows on the bank weren't but they were reassuring to find. And a female emperor dragonfly actually stopped for a break long enough for me to take a photo.

Emperor dragonfly 

Acre Nook Quarry, Alderley Edge in the distance 

My eye kept getting drawn to a figure on the edge of the Canada geese over on the far bank. It was a silhouette and I couldn't make it out and I gave up. As I was walking back I had another look at it and was still puzzled. The change of angle meant I was seeing the bird on its own. It wasn't low-slung like a mallard but it wasn't a coot because it was mallard-sized. It was like a nagging tooth and I kept looking back at it as I walked along. The fourth time the angle had changed enough for the bird to be no longer in silhouette and sure enough, it was the ruddy shelduck I'd told myself I wasn't going to get to see today.

Walking back to Lapwing Lane 

Lapwing Lane 

I carried on down Lapwing Lane and turned into The Mosses. This end of Lapwing Lane had been busy with titmice, blackbirds and a couple of willow warblers, and commas and holly blues fluttered about the bushes. The Mosses were very much quieter, a few woodpigeons, blackbirds, chiffchaffs and wrens and the butterflies were gatekeepers and large whites. I didn't mind, the dappled shade was welcome and it was a very agreeable walk.

The Mosses 

By Lapwing Hall Pool 

It wasn't so quiet by Lapwing Hall Pool but it was a slow start. At first I was only seeing woodpigeons, red admirals and meadow browns. Then a few peacocks and gatekeepers fluttered onto the scene. I could hear but not see mallards. It was only when the path met the hedgerow by Congleton Road that I started seeing and hearing much birdlife. Titmice and nuthatches fidgeted through the mature oaks by the road, reed buntings and willow warblers in the willows by the pool, and goldfinches, blackbirds and dunnocks in the waysides by the path. As the path shifted away from the pool chiffchaffs were flycatching from hawthorn bushes and long-tailed tits bounced through the brambles. Common blue damselflies swarmed about the patches of open meadow, Southern hawkers patrolled the margins of bushes and hedgerows. At last the path returned to the lake where a pair of coots were feeding a couple of youngsters and a pair of mute swans fed just off the bank.

Common blue damselfly 

Lapwing Hall Pool 

It had been hard walking: the ground had been baked dry and it was rougher on the feet than road-walking. I decided not to complete the circuit of the pool and took the gap in the hedge onto Congleton Road and walked back to Chelford. As I was walking over the South bridge I had a nosy to see if anything was on the little stream and noticed a female banded demoiselle sunbathing in the bushes.

Banded demoiselle 

By the time I'd walked over to Chelford Station I was feeling hot and footsore so I knocked on the head any mad fantasies about having a late teatime stroll round Sandbach Flashes. Still, I hadn't done so bad.

Hindley

Broad-bodied chaser

I've been going out for walks looking to find birds and I'm finding butterflies and dragonflies so I thought today I'd go out looking for butterflies and dragonflies and see what birds turn up. Mid-afternoon I headed out to Amberswood to look for Norfolk hawkers.

I got off the 132 at the Gregory Street stop and walked into Amberswood at the Manchester Road entrance. Almost immediately I bumped into a Southern hawker and felt a bit hurt by its complete lack of interest in me. To be fair, there was a banquet of tiny flies rising from the brambles.

Walking in from Manchester Road 

The only time of the year the gorse isn't in flower

A young great spotted woodpecker was calling from the trees about fifty yards deep into the woods. The call was so prolonged and insistent I had to double-check it wasn't a green woodpecker. The birds closer to hand were nearly all silent, an occasional contact call from a blue tit or great tit, a tut from a robin or a wren, the odd rattle from a magpie for five seconds of song from a woodpigeon. The most conspicuous birds were the dunnocks, which sort of tells you how it was.

Holly blue

In contrast, the holly blues, red admirals and large whites were all over the wayside brambles and nettles. The holly blues stayed still long enough to let me try and take their photos, something I've giving up on at home. Approaching the lake I was rather surprised to hear a couple of garden warblers singing at each other from either side of the path. The only other warbler I'd heard in the woods was the occasional squeak from a chiffchaff.

Amberswood Lake 

Reed warblers quietly sang to themselves at the lakeside and every so often I'd see one flitting between patches of reeds. Young blue tits monopolised the fat feeders at the corner by the paths, the adults fidgeted their way through the reeds. I found just the one reed bunting, and that was heard not seen. Reed buntings prefer to sit on a vantage point to sing, this one was deep in the depths of the reeds. 

Broad-bodied chaser 

The dragonflies were aggressively more conspicuous. Half a dozen brown hawkers zipped round me as I tried to see the reed bunting, the nearest passes close enough for me to hear their wing beats as they shot past my ear. A lot of the time they ran straight at me, veering away at the last minute like a game of chicken. For all there were lots of midges and mosquitos about none of them were getting close enough to land, let alone bite. A very unnerving alternative to citronella repellents. 

There were a couple of smaller hawkers, more stubby than the Southern hawker that passed by and predominantly brown with green stripes. I looked for the green eyes that would confirm them as Norfolk hawkers, easier said than done as they zipped around in the crowd. They were a lot shier than the brown hawkers, always keeping out of arm's reach. It took a few minutes before I could be sure they were Norfolk hawkers — head on, the brown hawkers had bright chestnut brown, almost red, faces while those of the Norfolk hawkers looked pale yellow, it was only when they veered and I got a side-on view that the milky bright green of the eyes became apparent and it took a few goes to be sure I wasn't just wishing it so. Another puzzling factor, almost certainly down to refractions and reflections, was that when they were flying at me the Norfolk hawkers appeared to have a golden sheen to the wings, nothing like as deep as the rich amber tones of the brown hawkers. Seen from below the wings were dead clear. The broad-bodied chasers posing for the camera on stems were a much more straightforward proposition.

Broad-bodied chaser 

Broad-bodied chaser 

Amberswood Lake 

Out on the lake the great crested grebes had a nest on the go, a couple of young black-headed gulls sat on the water catching emerging midges and the coots were busy feeding their second brood. A couple of dozen mallards loafed on the bankside muttering at passersby.

Meadow brown

On the way out to Liverpool Road the drifts of thistles by the pathside were buzzing with bees and butterflies. For all that there were plenty of commas, red admirals, peacocks and painted ladies the meadow browns and gatekeepers outnumbered them three to one.

Gatekeeper 

I crossed the road over to Low Hall where woodpigeons and song thrushes sang in the trees. Mallards, moorhens and the pair of mute swans moved in slow motion as they fed on the pond. Even the coots didn't have the energy to squabble. Titmice bounced through the trees, blackbirds and robins disappeared into the shadows under trees and the first jackdaws and woodpigeons flew overhead to roost. 

Low Hall 

There were fewer butterflies about than at Amberswood, but lots more damselflies. The dipping pool, particularly, was busy with common blue damselflies and I noticed a couple of blue-tailed damselflies zipping through some sedges.

Common blue damselfly 

I checked the bus times and found that the 559 to Bolton was due in ten minutes. Given that I'd miss the 132 back to the Trafford Centre whichever way I got back to Hindley town centre I decided to get the 559 and get the 20 back to the Trafford Centre from Over Hulton. In the ten minutes I waited for the 559 there was a definite passage of peacock butterflies over the road from Low Hall to Amberswood, perhaps they were heading to roost, too. Or perhaps they'd heard the thistles were doing good business.

Southport scorchio

Tufted duckling

It was a day that looked cloudy but wasn't. The smoke haze hung over Stretford and Manchester like a mist. The plan yesterday has been to nip over to Marbury Country Park to chase after the Caspian tern that spent most of the day there but the combination of heat, pollen and smoke laid me low after an atrocious night's sleep where I'd have been better not sleeping at all. Today I would run away from the smoke, I decided, and have a day at the seaside.

For once I had the sense to sit on the Northern side of the train to Southport and not melt my face off before arrival. We left the smoke behind just after Bolton and arrived in Southport to clear blue skies and a pleasantly fresh breeze that let me pretend it wasn't Very Hot.

Walking down Marshside Road most of the marshes were given to woodpigeons, starlings and house sparrows, the roadsides the haunt of goldfinches, a couple of whitethroats and a sedge warbler, as well as rather a lot of meadow browns, peacocks and a bewildering medley of assorted bees. I'm nearly up to speed on the bumblebees and carders so long as I've got a crib to check my guesses, I'm well out of my depth with the rest. House martins hawked high over the dry marshes, swifts low over the areas of greener grasses where the ground still held some moisture. The cattle had been split into two herds, one waiting by the roadside to be told where they were to be deployed, the other being taken to graze by the stretch of cracked mud that should be Polly's Pool. 

Part of the herd that crops the marshes

There was water only in the deepest drains at the end of the road, the others, and Junction Pool, were dry. Most of the birdlife was concentrated at this end of the marsh. Canada geese and a few greylags pottered about, a small crowd of gulls littered the area near Sandgrounders, black-headed gulls near the pools, herring gulls and a few lesser black-backs on the dry marsh.

Little egrets

Heron

A large bird in the distance caught my eye as it flew over the salt marsh into the estuary. Thinking it a marsh harrier I was puzzled when I got the binoculars and saw that it had a pale belly and head. I don't see ospreys often enough in places I wasn't already expecting to see them, the penny's always slow to drop.

Greenfinch

The verges by Marine Drive were busy with butterflies and bees. Greenfinches sang in the hawthorn bushes by the marsh, goldfinches from the trees on the sand plant across the road. Swifts darted low over the road and I was becoming very grateful to that cooling wind. There was a kerfuffle on the marsh, lapwings and black-headed gulls rising up and half a dozen curlews flying away. I couldn't see the cause and the remaining birds settled down almost immediately. Perhaps the heat was getting to them, too.

The excellent year for painted ladies continues

Common blues

The lagoon by Sandgrounders was busy with black-headed gulls, coots, Canada geese, mallards and cormorants and I almost missed the couple of spoonbills asleep in the corner.

Black-headed gulls, black-tailed godwits, herring gulls and Canada geese

Tufted duckling

There was a limited amount of water in front of Sandgrounders. Tufted ducks, mallards and shovelers made the most of it. One mallard had a couple of tiny ducklings with her. The tufted ducklings were striking out own their own, barked to attention every so often by their mother. Lapwings and ruffs bustled about the water margins, all the small figures fidgeting about on the banks were either starlings or goldfinches. Thick bands of densely packed black-headed gulls and black-tailed godwits loafed on the dried mud beyond. Most of the adult godwits were still in breeding russets and gingers though some were already showing signs of moulting. The youngsters caused me to look twice as besides being in non-breeding greys and beiges they were significantly smaller than the adults and with slightly shorter bills.

Ruff

Despite being so late in the late session this lapwing kept giving come-hither signals to passing males.

Tufted duck

Black-headed gulls, black-tailed godwits, herring gulls and Canada geese

Black-headed gulls, black-tailed godwits, herring gulls and Canada geese

Canada geese and spoonbills

On the way out of Sandgrounders I got a better view of the spoonbills on the lagoon. Out over the salt marsh skylarks flew in and out of the long grass and herring gulls fussed about on the shore of the estuary. A female marsh harrier flew in from the estuary and started hunting over the distant marsh before floating off in the direction of Banks Marsh.

Poppies

Peacock

I decided against having a long walk round, I was feeling the heat somewhat. I headed back to Southport for the mid-afternoon train back so I'd be able to avoid the rush hour. As I walked up Marshside Road a brute of an immature great black-back flew into Sutton's Marsh. Give it a few months' experience and it'll be putting the fear of God into the flocks by the pools.

Starlings on the fog bell

And then there was the journey home…

The train back to Oxford Road struggled to get past a slow canter and finally gave up the ghost in Bolton. Luckily, I thought at the time, the next train into Manchester wasn't one of the ones cancelled due to signalling problems so I got in half an hour later than planned but still three-quarters of an hour too early for the train home so I got off at Deansgate for the 255 back to Stretford. This is not the year Manchester City Centre avoids having it's annual Midsummer transportation meltdown. One of the reasons I disapprove of replacing train services with trams, besides the years' worth of travel disruption, is that for all their myriad, obvious faults the rail networks aren't shut one month out of every twelve for repairs. The city centre gridlock and the additional demand on the bus services meant that the bus was heaving and running forty minutes late by the time it got to Deansgate. The driver collapsed with heat stroke in Old Trafford and had to be carried off into the bus shelter for to be given air and water by passengers. The 256 which was running forty-four minutes late was right behind, so I got that home. Which sounds heartless but I would have been no damn use to the driver.