Wirral again

Redshanks, turnstones and little egrets, Meols groyne

The Leach's petrel passage had kicked up a few gears along the Wirral coast and there was a strong Westerly wind for them to be flying into, so they'd be more likely to fly close to shore and slow enough to give this old man a chance to get his eye in and identify one before it disappears into the distance. I decided I'd do a bit of seawatching from one of the seats above the revetment by Leasowe Lighthouse.

Leasowe Lighthouse 

I walked over from Moreton Station. The wind didn't feel so bad as I walked down the road and along the path past Kerr's Field. It hit like a brick as I stepped into the open area by the lighthouse and was bracing up on the sea wall. It was coming on high tide, the wind was blowing from the West, the birds were following the coast round the estuary and heading into it. Just right for seawatching. At first there wasn't much about: a few black-headed gulls nearby and a few herring gulls and lesser black-blacks tacking into the wind. A couple of great black-backs stood on a tiny foothold of mudbank. About a hundred oystercatchers were stubbornly hanging onto their mudbank until it sank beneath the waves. 

Looking over to Wallasey 

Soon after the oystercatchers gave up and flew off things started happening. More herring gulls and lesser black-backs passed through. Nearly all the distant brown birds tacking into the wind were herring gulls or lesser black-backs,  or unidentifiable one or others. I locked onto a distant bird ploughing its way through the wind in front of the wind turbines, a heavy, dark brown gull-like bird, only to lose track of it as a flock of pigeons careered across my line of view and blew away in the wind. It was probably a big juvenile herring gull. 

I noticed a couple of somethings streaking across the waves about fifty yards out. I latched onto them, thinking they'd both be waders. Dashing ahead was a Leach's petrel, black with a white rump and a grey band across  each wing. Miraculously it hardly seemed to move its wings as it shot headlong into the wind. Hot on its tail, wings working like billy-ho, was an almost white wader which it took me a few moments to recognise as a grey phalarope. Luckily that wind gave me those few moments and a bit to spare. 

Ten minutes later a razorbill shot in and I realised how the Leach's petrel did the trick. The birds were flying South down the Lancashire coast into the Mersey Estuary and into the mouth of the river right up to the Wirral Coast then turning on a wingtip almost and they used their momentum to power them headlong into the wind and beyond. Later on, a guillemot doing the same trick a hundred yards out was harder to recognise immediately as I was fighting distance, windshake and its skimming through a trough behind high white horses. Luckily I picked it up on its way out and I confirmed what I thought I'd seen go in.

A vantage point over the groyne

I gave it an hour then walked over to the groyne, partly to see what waders were roosting there, partly to see if any wheatears were about and mostly because I needed to stretch my legs. Redshanks, turnstones and a couple of knots shared the groyne with little egrets, an oystercatcher and a herring gull. There were no signs of wheatears either on the groyne or the grass, it must have been too windy for them. 

Redshanks, little egrets and herring gull

So far all the distant black birds flying low over the waves had been cormorants. A couple of dozen common scoters appeared and flew low over the waves. The birds at the back rose just that little too much over one wave and were caught by the wind. They towered up, over the waves and were deposited about fifty yards behind where they'd started from, which must have been hard work for them. 

I was keeping an eye out for more petrels and auks closer to hand and was seeing mostly herring gulls, a few black-headed gulls and a great black-back. Then I saw a small black bullet skimming the waves past the groyne and out to sea. A puffin. I couldn't be sure if the grey look to its face was shadow or its being a juvenile bird, it was away too quick for me to tell.

Heading for Park Lane 

By then I was feeling windswept and interesting. It hadn't been a bad haul for an hour and a half's effort with binoculars. Judging by the reports I checked later there was plenty more out there I hadn't been seeing including a lot more Leach's petrels, some Arctic skuas and Manx shearwaters but I was happy enough with what I had. I dropped down into Meols Dunes and took the bridleway through to Park Lane.

Juvenile wheatear. And a horse.

At Park Lane I turned left and headed past the paddocks back to Leasowe Common. I'd noticed there were plenty of pied wagtails skittering about with the horses when I had a look over from the sea wall, I wondered what else there might be. Plenty of woodpigeons and a couple of crows, of course. A flash of orange was a toffee paper blowing in the wind but that took my eye to a flock of linnets disconsolately sitting out the gusts of wind in a far corner and they took my eye to a juvenile wheatear hopping on and off a dividing fence. Further along I found a couple of juvenile white wagtails amongst the pied wagtails and starlings, and a couple more I couldn't decide one way or another. 

Probably a juvenile pied wagtail, with starlings

Curlew

A curlew was feeding in the field by the gate. As I approached we both pretended we each hadn't seen the other and walked our separate ways. 

I passed through the gate into the trees by the pond. A chiffchaff trialled a bit of song in one of the willows and goldfinches twittered in the hawthorn hedgerows along the path. Otherwise it was quiet. A couple of curlews rummaged about on Kerr's Field with the magpies and woodpigeons. As I'd walked in a Cetti's warbler sang from the Birkett as I passed by, it sang again as I passed on my way out and added a few jumbled bits of phrases which sounded like it was a young bird getting into practice for setting up a Winter territory.

The pond on Leasowe Common 

It had hardly been much of a walk, three and a bit miles, but I was jiggered. It was more than worth it for a good afternoon's bit of seawatching and some bonus passage passerines.

Salford Quays

Lesser black-backs and herring gulls

I didn't feel like doing anything today, my get up and go has been ghosting me all week. I'd read the same page of a book for the fifth time when I lost patience with myself and dragged myself out for a very dispiriting look around my local patch. 

Lostock Park 

The park was busy with people and quiet of birds. We've lost whitethroats as a breeding species after somebody tidied away the big bramble patches and drifts of thistles on the waste ground. There hasn't been the usual flocks of goldfinches and greenfinches either. The mass of goldenrod and willowherb that had taken over isn't anywhere near as productive and doesn't provide much cover. The brambles in the margins provide enough cover for dunnocks and wrens but not much else. I wasn't expecting any warblers today and didn't find any. And found precious little else.

• Black-headed gull 2 overhead
• Blackbird 2
• Blue tit 1
• Carrion crow 1
• Feral pigeon 1
• Goldfinch 1
• Herring gull 1 overhead
• Lesser black-back 3 overhead
• Magpie 3
• Woodpigeon 10
• Wren 1

I headed for Salford Quays to see what was about there. A flock of a dozen goldfinches fussed about in the trees by the bus stop as I waited for the 250 across to the other side of Trafford Park. (I could have walked it but it is a phenomenally dreary couple of miles of industrial estate road walking and the buses are every ten minutes.)

Clipper Quay
Coot, mallards, great crested grebe and moorhen

It was grey and cloudy and a keening wind blew straight down the Ship Canal. I walked over to Clipper Quay where black-headed gulls fussed about. A few coots, mallards and moorhens dozed and pottered about on the muddy bank. Rather to my surprise, they'd been joined by a great crested grebe dozing in their midst. I can't think when I last saw a great crested grebe hauling itself onto land except on a nest, I forget they can do it. 

Common gull

It was too early for the big roost of large gulls on Central Bay, there were just a couple of dozen or so loafing and preening, mostly lesser black-backs with a few herring gulls and a common gull. There were dozens of black-headed gulls and they were very active. When they weren't squabbling as they bathed they were squabbling over scraps of sticks they'd found on the water or they were a squabbling cloud hovering about mute swans and Canada geese mugging for scraps over in Ontario Bay, or they were chasing each other around the Lowry. In a turnaround from the usual state of affairs a black-headed gull chased a juvenile herring gull round the houses and forced it down onto the water.

Yellow-legged gull 

More herring gulls and lesser black-backs floated in, as did many more very noisy black-headed gulls. The usual adult yellow-legged gull took some finding as it was right out at the front of the raft of large gulls, and it was looking very spruce so I had no excuse. Yellow-legged gulls start and finish their moult earlier than the others. Over on the other side of the bay three house martins whizzed across the top of the water and towered up over the side railings.

Lesser black-backs and herring gulls 

Lesser black-backs 

The pied wagtails were gathering as I walked over to the War Museum, as were the United fans for the match. Luckily I was heading back in the wrong direction to get too embroiled in the traffic.

Leighton Moss

Painted lady 

It was a damp morning promising better and as the train headed North we left the heavy rain of Chorley for the fitful sunshine of Preston. I had me an old man's explorer ticket and was headed for Leighton Moss via Dalton as per usual for the usual reasons. 

A few times I complained to myself that the fields and tracksides of Lancashire were being as barren as any of Yorkshire and I concluded that either the jackdaw population of Galgate had plummeted or I'd lost my eye for jackdaws. A thin passage of swallows, just the odd one or two, moved through Northern Lancashire. 

Cumbria convinced me I hadn't lost my eye for jackdaws. Redshanks, starlings and black-headed gulls gathered on the banks of the Kent and curlews and little egrets stalked the mudbanks. Fields were busy with black-headed gulls lapwings and greylags, jackdaws and carrion crows fossicked about and mallards fussed about in pools. It had become warm enough for large whites to flutter about the trackside. The tide was riding high, too high for more than a couple of eiders to have loafing space on the banks of the Leven as the little egrets retreated to the back channels. It was very thin pickings further along, I was seeing more butterflies — large whites and speckled woods — than birds and I wasn't seeing so many of them, either. 

It was much the same on the way back to Silverdale. A flock of teal dabbled in a drain before Cark and small whites joined the flutterings by the trackside. Moorhens pottered across ponds, buzzards floated over fields, it was quiet early Autumn fare.

Blue tits and house sparrows fussed about Silverdale Station and a comma butterfly passed by as I crossed over the track to the exit. Robins tutted in the hedgerows and woodpigeons passed by. A painted lady fed on the verbenas in the garden by the visitor centre and marmalade hoverflies skittered about the herb garden. Great tits, blue tits and robins could be heard more often than be seen.

Reed cutting 

Reed cutting was being done at Lilian's Hide, which was unfortunate for my photography but is essential work to maintain the habitat and I can be unfortunate enough for my photography without any help. The mute swans and great white egrets were lurking in the far reeds while coots, mallards, gadwalls and dabchicks sat in a raft at one end of the pool away from the work as if making a point that it was their pool and they weren't going to be chased off it by people slipping about in waders.

Willows by the reedbed

It was a very quiet walk through the reedbeds through to the Tim Jackson Hide. Robins stole through willow roots like ninjas and a chiffchaff squeaked as I passed it by. A party of sand martins passing overhead made up the numbers. 

The gadwalls on the pools at the hide were paired up and the mallards were a-courting. A couple of ruffs feeding on the edge of the reeds kept a wide berth from a loafing heron. A few migrant hawkers zipped about as well as another dragonfly that wouldn't stay flying in one direction long enough for me to identify but might have been one of the chasers. 

At the Tim Jackson Hide 

All of a sudden the sky went dark and it poured down. Five minutes later it was sunny again. It was one of those afternoons.

Cormorant 

The walk round to the Griesdale Hide was just as quiet. There were hints of passing long-tailed tits in the willows. Cormorants and carrion crows sat in the dead trees by the hide. A mute swan drifted about the pool. Over in a corner a black-tailed godwit poked about in the mud. I'm always suspicious of any bird that should be in a flock turning up on its own so I had a good stare at it and it remained a black-tailed godwit. Mallards and gadwalls flew out to the estuary, woodpigeons flew in to the woods. I waited out another shower and made my way back. 

Mallards

At the Griesdale Hide 

Just to emphasise how quiet the visit had been, I heard my first wren of the day tutting by the Sky Tower and the only nuthatch I saw flew into a tree at the station as the Manchester train arrived. As the train passed the coastal hides I saw a flock of more than a hundred black-tailed godwits on the pool by the Eric Morecambe Hide and  a dozen greylags grazed by the bank. Marsh harriers had been notably absent at Leighton Moss. A female-type was putting up the meadow pipits on Carnforth Marsh and a kestrel hovered by the trackside.

Leighton Moss 

Autumn's a funny season in this corner of England. Anything can be anywhere, birds are on the move and a lot of them are doing it for the first time and don't know for sure where they're going. On the other side, the ones that aren't going anywhere haven't any big incentive to call attention to themselves and there's plenty enough cover to hide behind. It means that you have to work as hard as any time during the Summer but you never know what, if anything, might turn up. The other day I looked for a black redstart and found a spotted flycatcher in the same place first, today I have a quiet time at Leighton Moss. If it was predictable it would be boring.

Greater Manchester mini bundle

Nightjar, Kenworthy Woods

A nightjar appeared in Kenworthy Woods last night and was still there this morning so I postponed today's plans, got the train into town and the 101 bus to Merseybank and was soon walking into the woods.

Kenworthy Woods 

The quickest way to the location was to walk along the cleared path under the power lines, something I generally avoid partly due to superstition and partly because in damp weather they give me a headache. Luckily it wasn't damp today, the air felt heavy but the sun shone bright.

Wrens and robins sang in the clearing. I joined the access road through the wood where a mixed tit flock — long-tailed tits, blue tits, great tits and chiffchaffs — bounced through the hedgerows, migrant hawkers patrolled the road and speckled woods, large whites and red admirals fluttered about the verges.

The nightjar had been reported just off the road but I didn't realise just how close until I saw the small knot of birdwatchers just behind the hedge by the lay-by. I joined them and was very pleasantly surprised to see the bird almost immediately, asleep on a branch. The almost white end of a broken branch provided a perfect landmark for keeping the bird in view as I shuffled round a bit for a better view. The front end of the bird reminded me of a wryneck with its broken patterns of brown, black and grey barring. The rest of the bird looked surprisingly pale and a bit fluffy, especially when it fidgeted in its sleep, which suggests it might be a young bird. For the past couple of years I've been keeping an eye out for nightjars in one of their summering areas, with no luck. I'm hoping this has opened the gates for future sightings, if not it was a bonny bird.

The orchard

I had an errand to do for my father so I took my leave and walked up to the orchard to do some 'phone calls. This involved having a row with my father which I hope I would have handled better had I not been so tired. I wasn't really in the mood for the rest of the walk through the woods though I did it anyway. Parakeets, magpies and woodpigeons clattered about in the trees, carrion crows fossicked about in clearings, there were more mixed tit flocks, robins and wrens and a raven cronked as it flew down the river. Give nature its due, it was trying its best.

Kenworthy Woods 

Alexandra Park 

I decided to give up and go home. Alexandra Park was along the way so I had a dawdle through it to try and get my head in a safer place. A family of mistle thrushes rattled their way about the parkland and there were more parakeets in the trees. Pigeons and black-headed gulls crowded one end of the lake while mallards, coots, tufted ducks and mute swans drifted about the other. I couldn't see any moorhens and there weren't many Canada geese about either. The pigeons and black-headed gulls made up the numbers.

Tufted duck

Tufted duck

There were a dispiriting lot of terrapins sunning themselves on logs.

Terrapins

Waiting for th ebus home from Stretford I noticed that even though it was warm and sunny the house martins had gone.

Late on I decided I needed another walk so I got the 256 into Flixton and had a twilight walk through Wellacre Wood with my bat detector. Robins, wrens and magpies settled down for the night as the light faded. A noctule bat, big and with direct flight, skimmed over the hedgerow by the path. 

Wellacre Wood 

Horses dozed in a field by the wood and I could see at least four bats flitting about the hedgerow. I positioned myself by the gate so I could see the bats against the darkening sky, the bats didn't mind and flew around me. I couldn't recognise them by sight, they were smaller than the noctule but considerably bigger than any pipistrelle. I put the bat detector to work and found that most of the calls were around the 25-27mhz range, though oddly I could actually hear some of them myself. Those notes were as high as the highest bits of a goldcrest's song but more abrupt and a lot more solid. The bat detector translated the higher notes into a "blap" noise not unlike somebody flicking stretched out plastic film with their finger. There aren't many bats calling at that frequency, mercifully, and these weren't noctules. Serotine bats don't get this far North and don't sound like that so they could only have been Leisler's bats, which are uncommon but do occur in Greater Manchester.

I walked back in the dark and struck lucky with the bus home. The walk had done some good and it had been a successful bat hunt.

Cob Kiln Wood

The bridge over Old Eeas Brook 

I had caught up with my sleep, which always leaves me feeling like human wreckage and put paid to the ambitious plans for the day. I'll have to start getting up when I'm awake at seven instead of drifting off to sleep and having anxiety dreams about work, which I left ten years ago but still seem to carry the scars. In an effort to blow away the cobwebs I had another quiet woodland walk, this time through Cob Kiln Wood.

For a change I walked down Cob Kiln Lane from Urmston town centre. House martins hawked low over the corner of Church Road, the low cloud and brisk wind providing a plentiful supply of midges.

Cob Kiln Lane 

It was a very quiet walk down the lane. Magpies, jackdaws and carrion crows rummaged about in the paddocks. A flock of woodpigeons fed in a fallow field. A great tit chunnered in the hedgerow. I took some photos of where a goldcrest had been. And that was it. I carried on down to the river, a handful of lesser black-backs flying overhead.

The River Mersey passing over the weir
No dippers or wagtails today.

The pigeons usually to be found fussing about the road bridge over the river were notably absent though one flew high overhead. Downstream a heron and a couple of mallards loafed on the shoals at the bend of the river and a couple of moorhens under the Lancashire bank. A cormorant fished midstream, coming upstream to the weir then drifting back down before starting upstream again. Presumably any fish stunned by tumbling over the weir will be easy pickings.

A short walk over the river and down a drizzly Banky Lane was quiet save a singing robin. I didn't fancy walking through Banky Meadow and messing about with buses home so I turned back, crossed the river and down the lane into Cob Kiln Wood.

The electricity pylon clearing 

Jays silently disappeared into cover and goldfinches and starlings twittered in the treetops as I walked through the electricity pylon clearing. I told myself whatever the provocation I was not going to complain about the rain yet. The rain of the past couple of weeks had had its magic effect: the clearing was carpeted with a fresh new growth of comfrey leaves.

Comfrey

As I walked into the trees I was aware of robins, great tits and dunnocks and every so often I'd hear or see one or other of them. A calling nuthatch and the squeak of chiffchaffs was a lot more definite. As I passed the edge by a grazing field red admirals settled into the brambles and a buzzard disturbed the woodpigeons in the trees beyond. I lingered by the bridge over Old Eeas Brook in the hopes a couple of great tits might become a mixed tit flock but it wasn't to be. I headed home in the rain.

Cob Kiln Wood 

Mersey Valley

Mute swans. Sale Water Park

It wasn't a bad class of day. There was plenty of cloud about and there was still that cool Northwest wind but the sun came out mid-morning and seemed happy to linger. I wasn't in the mood for trusting trains so I spent the afternoon wandering round our bit of the Mersey Valley.

Passing through Stretford town centre I was heartened to see a handful of house martins still hawking over the bus stop. 

Ivy Green 

As I walked down Hawthorn Lane there were lots of grey squirrels rummaging about in the verges with magpies and woodpigeons. I turned into Ivy Green and almost immediately bumped into a goldcrest fidgeting about in an elderberry bush. Great tits and blue tits also moved through the trees but if it was a mixed tit flock it was a very loosely coordinated one. Speckled woods and large whites fluttered about the margins of the wood and more large whites fluttered about the open grass. A sparrowhawk circled lazily above the treetops.

Ivy Green 

Chorlton Ees 

I'd been surprised not to be seeing or hearing any parakeets so far on the walk. This changed in Chorlton Ees where they were heard but not seen in the treetops. Robins sang, jays screeched, a buzzard was very vocal, magpies and woodpigeons clattered about and carrion crows strutted about the open stretches. Red admirals joined the large whites and speckled woods fluttering through the bramble patches. A mixed tit flock moved through the hawthorns and oaks by the hay meadow, a family of long-tailed tits providing the stitching together lacking in Ivy Green. Somewhere in the meadow two cock pheasants were in pitched battle, possibly over the hen pheasant perched in a hawthorn bush eating berries.

Chorlton Ees 

River Mersey 

The walk by the river to Jackson's Boat would have been quiet but for the crows, magpies and parakeets. A couple of mallards dabbled by the bank and a grey wagtail fidgeted about. A migrant hawker patrolled the apple trees up top, the only dragonfly of the day.

Barrow Brook was running high. Robins sang, wrens tutted, a chiffchaff squeaked. I bumped into another goldcrest and a family of long-tailed tits bounced through the undergrowth. The light streamed through the trees and cast grey highlights fringed caramel brown and pale blue on the muddy water of the brook.

Barrow Brook 

A herd of mute swans drifted about the eastern end of the lake in Sale Water Park. There were more over by the slipway with a gang of mallards, black-headed gulls, coots and Canada geese while cormorants stood aloof on the pontoons. The arrival of small children with bags of food had the herd charging over to join the others. As I walked round I bumped into great tits and long-tailed tits and chiffchaffs squeaked from bushes but they all seemed to be independent units. I was struck by the absence of large gulls on the lake. It was too early for the small roost on here but there's usually a handful of lesser black-backs kicking around.

Sale Water Park 

It was difficult to see through the willow scrub in front of the hide on Broad Ees Dole. Teals, gadwalls and mallards dabbled in the high water, moorhens pottered about the shallows over the islands, dabchicks dived in the channels in between. As I emerged from the hide a heron flew by and a grey wagtail flew in onto the bank of the lake. A couple of people were having a swim in the lake and I felt cold on their behalf. A dozen teals dabbled about on the Teal Pool, this is the time of year when it earns its name.

Teal Pool 

I debated which way to go and decided to head into Priory Gardens for a change. As I walked past this end of the lake I noticed the great crested grebe with half a wing preening out in the water. A great survivor and a reminder that if it wasn't for blokes with guns and a habit of polluting waterways there'd be quite a few flightless waterfowl in this world.

Priory Gardens was also in a quiet mood. This time of year there's no need for small birds to call attention to themselves and there's plenty of cover. Robins sang, chiffchaffs squeaked and blue tits flitted between the trees. I emerged and struck lucky with the 248 bus. It was a roundabout way home.

Pennington Flash

Herring gull

It waa a cool, damp sort of a day with the sun spending the morning offering tantalising glimpses like the worst of online scam advertising. I headed over to Pennington Flash to see what was about, with half a mind that I'd be having to duck into hides to dodge a few showers along the way.

The way the extensive roadworks are effecting bus services makes the connection with the 126 at the Trafford Centre more miss than hit lately so I got the 132 and changed at Sale Lane for the V1 to Leigh. The 588 to Plank Lane was sitting at the bus station and I decided it would be rude not to. This also meant that I could do a woodland walk and have a look at the grasslands of the rucks North of the flash along the way.

Walking in from Slag Lane 

Brown roll-rim

I think this is a false blusher

The mixed tit flock bouncing through the trees by the path from Slag Lane included long-tailed tits, blue tits and chiffchaffs but, curiously. no great tits. I couldn't work out if the willow warbler squeaking in a sallow was part of the flock or a bystander. The one in the willows at the edge of the rucks was definitely on its own, as were the chiffchaffs dotted about the willows on the bank of the flash. A raft of coots and a few mallards drifted about at this Eastern end of the flash.

Heather

There was green showing on the rucks after the recent rains

It was a bit late in the day to see much passage migration over the rucks but I hoped one or two birds might have stopped for a breather. Apparently not, it looked as if they had all taken advantage of the Northwest tail wind to speed them on their way. A couple of pairs of stock doves flew by. A family of carrion crows and half a dozen magpies rummaged about on the ground and a male kestrel hovered low overhead. I wondered if much eats wild carrot seed, if they do they're in for a banquet this year.

Pennington Flash 

I turned back to the flash where there were more rafts of coots. Great crested grebes congregated by the end of the spit and mute swans dabbled by the banks. It took a while to find any tufted ducks, they were all over on the West end of the flash. I looked in vain for any terns or little gulls, a couple of the latter passed through yesterday. Black-headed gulls chased to and fro, cormorants fished in a line and a raft of herring gulls and lesser black-backs out in the middle was accompanied by a juvenile great black-back. 

Now the grim, grey weather comes upon us it's time for me to be fourth- and fifth-guessing myself with the identification of young gulls. The huge juvenile great black-back was obvious enough and in principle the young herring gulls and lesser black-backs ought to pose no problem. Herring gulls being generally more blocky and lesser black-backs generally being more attenuated, with longer wings accounts for the majority of them. A dark and slim herring gull will have me doubting myself, similarly a stocky lesser black-back. The key difference that's useful to me is the tertial feathers, that bunch of feathers hiding the bases of the black primaries. If they're uniformly dark it's a lesser black-back, if not it's a herring gull. A textbook juvenile herring gull has barred tertials, real life gulls don't read textbooks and quite often it's just broken patterning of light on dark.

Migrant hawkers patrolled the paths, sometimes hunting in pairs. Chiffchaffs squeaked, wrens tutted, robins sang and along this stretch the mixed tit flocks included great tits.

At the Tom Edmondson Hide 

A quick look through the reeds at Ramsdales Hide Found me a lot of teal and a couple of drake shovelers still in eclipse plumage. A few pairs of gadwalls dabbled on the pool on the Tom Edmondson Hide as the rain started in earnest. 

The spit from the F.W.Horrocks Hide 

It's remarkable how much the flash has filled up so quickly after a couple of weeks of showers. The spit at the F.W.Horrocks Hide was a lot thinner than on my last visit. A crowd of lapwings at the end flew off towards the fields to the West, a few more sat at the water's edge and preened. Mallards, coots and gadwalls loafed near the hide, cormorants and herring gulls loafed out at the end of the spit.

Lapwing, coot, mallards and tufted ducks
The tuftie is doing that roll onto its back to scratch its belly thing that has me thinking "Lesser scaup?" in bad light.

The rain was persisting down. I decided to call it quits. The car park was crowded with black-headed gulls, mallards and Canada geese. One oystercatcher stood on a rock offshore, another rummaged for scraps under the trees.

Oystercatcher 

The tally had come to 48, which by any objective measure wasn't bad in the circumstances. A sparrowhawk circling over Wigan bus station and two swallows hurtling across a field in Smallbrook got me to the fifty mark and I felt better for no good reason whatsoever. It had been a good walk until the rain hit and there were plenty of birds about.