Platt Fields

Canada geese, mallards and coots

Looking out of the window watching the spadgers make swift inroads on a feeder full of suet pellets it struck me once again that me and the Met Office have different ideas of "Light rain." Time was I'd not have cared and would have gone bouncing out to some rain swept corner, which possibly explains why I now have joints that can tell you it's going to rain tomorrow.

The rain eased a bit at lunchtime so I decided I'd bob over to Platt Fields in Manchester to see what was on the duck pond. By the time I arrived it had stopped raining completely though it was still a thoroughly miserable afternoon.

Blue tits, great tits and robins sang in the trees as I walked in from Wilmslow Road. It sounded like the ring-necked parakeets were already going to roost though they were making enough noise to raise the dead. The magpies were positively sedate by comparison.

Platt Fields duck pond

I keep expecting herons on this island but I've yet to see one here

I expected more mute swans and Canada geese on the pond, there were a handful of geese and a couple of swans. On the other hand there were plenty of coots and mallards and a dozen tufted ducks. I checked just in case it was Manchester's turn to host a ring-necked duck again. It wasn't. I had an hour's putter about without adding anything else to the tally so I headed home.

I knew the 150 bus back to Stretford was due soon so I checked on Google Maps. It was due very soon so I clicked on "directions" to see how likely I was to miss it. Google Maps told me it would take half an hour to walk to the bus stop, which was nonsense. I checked it again while I was waiting to cross the road at the corner opposite the bus stop. Sometimes you have to conclude that Google Maps has been drinking.

Some travel advice can safely go unheeded

Leighton Moss

Pintails, mallards and teal

I would have put good money on my first words of the day not being: "Where's your tail?" As I opened the front door I'd disturbed a magpie that had been rummaging round the plant pots and it bounced down the path and shouted rude things from the tree across the road. It had evidently just had a mauling from something, as well as being tailless it was holding its wings stiffly and the blood on its left wing hadn't dried. It's been the best part of a week since I last saw any of the neighbourhood cats and the other magpies hadn't made the commotion I'd expect from a visit by the sparrowhawk. I wonder if it had pushed its luck with one of the carrion crows. 

The weather was set foul and the wind was cold and fast. It was a day for pottering about inside, or failing that sitting on an almost warm train for long periods. I settled for the latter, got myself an old man's explorer ticket and got the Barrow train.

The bird life seen from the train on the way up was a lot quieter than usual. Woodpigeons and magpies, if seen at all, were huddling out of the wind in lower branches of trees. Their usually favoured trackside furniture perches were deserted. We passed by a few small groups of gulls, mostly black-headed with a few herring gulls North of Preston. 

Mute swans, greylags, teals and mallards cruised the pools at the coastal hides on the approach to Silverdale. There were a host of other ducks out there that I couldn't identify as we chugged past. A great white egret stuck out from the rushes on one of the islands. Another great white egret was stalking flooded fields on the approach to Arnside. 

When we left Lancaster the Lune looked to be at high tide. The Kent at Arnside looked halfway up and the mud banks were still being explored by redshanks and curlews. A redhead goosander steered its way away from the viaduct as the train passed over the main channel.

The salt marshes on the other side were busy with mallards, teals, carrion crows and shelducks. But no little egrets. Having had a quick look at my records I discover that I don't often see them on Morecambe Bay in February. Looking out of the train window I couldn't blame them for going for more sheltered spots inland.

The Leven was running very high and scores of wigeon moved away from the viaduct as the train passed over. I keep hoping to see a few eiders here but I've had no luck yet this year and didn't on the way back, either.

I didn't want to wait fifty-odd minutes for the next train back from Barrow and the weather didn't suggest itself for a walk round Barrow Park or Cavendish Dock so I got off at Dalton and waited five minutes for the train back to Silverdale. I managed to see a couple of little egrets on the way back, singles on sheltered pools at Kents Bank and on Meathop Road outside Grange-over-sands. The Kent still wasn't anywhere near as high as the Lune or Leven, a flock of lapwings loafed on one of the mud banks as we passed.

I got off at Silverdale and walked round to Leighton Moss. The vegetation's been stripped off the station wall and great lumps have been taken out of the stones in the process.

It wasn't the weather for a prolonged visit. I decided I'd be getting the next train back to Manchester. I had The Hideout to myself, the weather was that bad. The greenfinches on the feeders were making most of the noise but the chaffinches were outnumbering them three to one. Great tits muscled in as best could. Blue tits, coal tits and marsh tits dashed in an out whenever there was a lull in the feeding. Today's mopping-up crew were a couple of mallards, a pheasant, a moorhen and a crowd of chaffinches. The robins were mostly busy singing in the bushes.

Leighton Moss 

The view from Lilian's Hide 

The walk round to Lilian's Hide confirmed this was going to be a short visit. All the small birds noises were creaking and groaning branches. The ducks weren't fond either, great masses of them had beached onto the bank in front of the hide and gone to sleep. A raft of coots were drifting about midwater when I arrived. They quickly headed for the bank when a shower of horizontal rain passed by. A raft of pintails stayed out a lot longer, the drakes were busy trying to impress the ladies. They only shifted when a female marsh harrier drifted over, they flew up in a panic and joined the crowd of ducks on the bank. Another female harrier was flying about with a male way over by the causeway, it was impossible to tell whether or not they were paired up or a coincidence. Any ideas the pintails had about drifting back out into the water were knocked on the head when the pair of great black-backs drifted by.

Shovelers
The first-Winter drakes, like the one in the front, were starting to show the green on their heads.

Shovelers 

Coot and teal

Mallards and teal

Pintails 

Marsh harrier
The reason for the pintails' skittishness.

Pintails' 

Chaffinch 

I headed back to the visitor centre, passing a squealing water rail in the reeds by the hide. A small flock of goldfinches were trying to get a go at the feeders but the greenfinches and chaffinches weren't for letting it happen. I had to walk around a marsh tit on the path, it was very intent on something in the gravel.

Marsh tit 

I got the next train back. Fortunately so, it started pouring down before we got to Carnforth. It had been another lazily productive day's birdwatching. 

Worsley Woods

Teal, Old Warke Dam

It was a slightly milder, but still cool, day and the wind was still making itself felt. The spadgers in the back garden somehow managed to demolish a feeder full of fat balls in just over a day (even the magpies didn't get much of a look-in). I've been having a lazy few days so I thought I'd best get a walk under my boots. I went over to the Trafford Centre to play bus station bingo, a toss-up between Pennington Flash and Amberswood, and my bus got me in during that mad gap in the new timetable where there's a half-hour wait and the 126 and 132 arrive together. So I got the 22 to Monton and walked up to Worsley via Duke's Drive and Worsley Woods. Which turned out to work well, what parts of the walk that weren't sheltered by trees were along old railway cuttings.

Carrion crow, Duke's Drive 

I got off at The Bluebell, which sounds a bit Stanley Lupino but there we go, and walked past the already crocus-strewn Monton Green and onto Duke's Drive. Robins and woodpigeons sang in the trees and they were soon joined by blue tits, coal tits and great tits. Carrion crows and magpies rummaged about in the verges, jackdaws and ring-necked parakeets made a racket in the trees in the parkland and the golf course and squirrels scampered about as if there weren't a host of dogs being taken on their lunchtime walkies. A nuthatch kept calling in the avenue of trees but I couldn't place it. I had a bit more luck, eventually, pinpointing the singing song thrush. It was a very pleasant walk.

Duke's Drive

A family of long-tailed tits bounced through the trees as I approached the old Worsley Station and a goldcrest struggled to make itself heard against a background of blue tits, great tits, goldfinches and coal tits. I had no more luck spotting the nuthatch calling by the station than I did the one on Duke's Drive.

For some reason the light at the end of the tunnel

gets smaller the closer you get.

The passage through the little tunnel under Worsley Road marked a change, the robins still sang but there wasn't a lot else about.

I climbed the steps up to the path through the woods to Old Warke Dam. A mixed tit flock including a troupe of long-tailed tits bounced quietly through the trees, I actually saw a nuthatch this time. Unlike the chaffinches, which invariably saw me first.

Climbing up to the woodland path

The Aviary at Old Wark Dam 

I heard the teal on the dam pool well before I got there. There were only half a dozen of them but their whistles penetrated the woodland. I arrived at the lake to find the usual motley crew of mallards, coots and black-headed gulls. Interestingly my walking down to the end of the pier to look over the other side of the pool didn't worry the teal one bit so I got some close photos of them.

Teal

Coot

I carried on walking past Old Warke Dam back into Worsley Woods and dropped down to Worsley Brook. Unsurprisingly the going was very muddy. Woodpigeons, magpies and parakeets clattered about in the trees. There were plenty of blue tits, great tits, robins and blackbirds about but it was the coal tits doing all the singing.

Worsley Brook 

Velvet shanks, I think

I was taking some photographs of fungi on a fallen tree when a grey wagtail came to see what I was doing.

Grey wagtail 

Further along a dozen mallards were chased off the brook by a frisky and already very wet labrador.

Walking up from the brook

I climbed the steps up from the brook and walked into Worsley for the bus back to the Trafford Centre. Canada geese and moorhens puttered about on the canal at Worsley Delph and the jackdaws had started going to bed. Given the weather I was inclined to follow suit but I had a social engagement later on so I had to trust in the revivifying nature of a pot of tea. Which worked, as it always does.

Insert motivational message here

I woke up early, heard the wind rattling the extractor fan in the bathroom, checked the weather forecast and asked myself if standing on a Wintery windswept beach staring into the distance hoping to see black dots is the most comfortable way I could be using my twilight years. I decided to catch up on my sleep.

I've not been up to Rochdale yet this year. I've not got peregrine falcon or dipper on the year list yet. I decided to head up that way, see if there's been a reappearance of the Town Hall falcons and check out the river for dippers.

On the train I decided to stay on to Littleborough. It wasn't the weather for a visit to Hollingworth Lake but I could get the 458 from the station, get off at Wardle for a quick look at Watergrove Reservoir then catch the 458 into Rochdale. Which is a sound plan, I've done it often before. I didn't do it today. Waiting for the bus I checked the weather forecast, the wind speed numbers offered by the Met Office did not accord with the rattling of the bus shelter. It was so gloomy 91 jackdaws went to roost in the trees by the church. I decided to stay on the bus to Rochdale.

Dozens of jackdaws flew in and gathered in the trees in Hurstead, Wardle and Smallbridge. Black-headed gulls teemed about Rochdale town centre. The weather was set not altogether pleasant. 

River Roch, Rochdale

I checked the river by the bus station, a moorhen had it all to itself. Even the usual gaggle of geese was nowhere to be seen. Walking over to the Town Hall I stopped and checked the river as I went along. A pigeon landed and had a drink before joining the crowds on the treetops.

There was no sign of peregrines on the Town Hall. Not even any droppings on the stonework of the clock tower.

I played bus station bingo and got the 409 to Ashton-under-Lyne. If the weather picked up I could get off at Tandle Hill or I could see if the herons were back on the heronry at Alexandra Park in Oldham. I got the 216 at Ashton Bus Station and went back to Manchester and thence home.

Southport

Pied wagtail

It was an early start. The blackbirds and robins sang a lusty dawn chorus. By the time the early morning errands had been done they'd been succeeded by blue tits, coal tits, house sparrows and woodpigeons. It was a mild grey morning so I got the Liverpool train and an all-areas Saveaway, the plan being to go up to Southport to try and put twite on the year list while I was still awake then drift back calling at wherever and seeing what was what.

Suburban railway stations are an underappreciated birdwatching resource. Waiting for the Ormskirk train at Liverpool South Parkway a mixed tit flock — silent blue tits and long-tailed tits and noisy great tits — bounced through the trees and a carrion crow love triangle played out in the treetops. My year list at my local station currently stands at 24 species.

The highlight of the journey North was the quartet of roe deer grazing in a field just South of Hightown.

Southport Marine Lake 

Arriving in Southport I went straight to the marine lake and had a walk round to see what was about. 

Greylags 

Herring gulls and mute swans

The wind picked up and had an edge to it but it was otherwise pleasant walking. The inland sides of the islands were lined with greylags, Canada geese and coots. The mute swans out on the water were tending to cruise about in pairs but an impressive caravan of them kept passing up and down beneath the Marine Way Bridge. Most of the mallards were loafing on the side by the Promenade, together with a few pairs of gadwalls and yet more coots. The herring gulls outnumbered the black-headed gulls about two to one and I couldn't find any lesser black-backs. I looked in vain for either the smew or the snow goose. The only diving ducks were a pair of tufted ducks bobbing about near the paddle steamer and two female goldeneyes out in the middle of the lake. Dabchicks bobbed up and down in the water with gay abandon. The only white goose was a white farm goose with the mob of swans, greylags, coots and herring gulls on the corner jetty.

Herring gulls 

Gadwall

Tufted ducks 

Jackdaws, magpies and carrion crows idled in the trees on the island. Until they noticed that a sparrowhawk had landed in a tree for a rest. It was quickly seen off the premises.

Blackbirds, song thrushes, greenfinches and chaffinches were busy in the sea buckthorns on the seaward side of the lake. The tide was best part low so I didn't expect much chance of twites in the sailing club compound but it was worth a go. I wasn't surprised to only find a meadow pipits and some oystercatchers. A skein of pink-footed geese flew over and into the salt marsh beyond.

I crossed the road for a look at the salt marsh. Wherever any pink-feet were they were either well in the distance or mid-distance with their heads down, grazing. There were plenty of shelducks about and a drake pintail flew in and landed where the salt marsh meets the beach a couple of hundred yards out from the road. Closer by, skylarks and meadow pipits flitted about the marsh while pied wagtails rummaged about at the base of the sea wall.

I was watching a pair of meadow pipits chasing each other round the marsh when I noticed a flock of finches rise out of the marsh and fly about a bit before settling back down and becoming immediately invisible. I'd seen where they'd gone so it was a simple matter of waiting for them to rise again to move on a bit. I was lucky, I only had to wait a couple of minutes and they were back up. This time I could be sure they were a couple of dozen twites as much by what I wasn't seeing as their snub faces.

The salt marsh North of the pier

Redshanks and black-headed gulls pottered about on the mud around the pier, oystercatchers loafed on the margins of the marsh to the South. It seems strange not to have a snow bunting hereabouts this Winter, I had a look for one anyway, just in case. The only little egret of the day (I seem to be writing that a lot lately) flew in and rummaged about on the marsh with a dozen starlings.

Southport Beach 

I walked down to the Transpennine Trail Gateway and asked myself what I wanted to do next. The day and the wind had caught up with me so I walked down to Lord Street and got the X2 to Liverpool. As the bus waited at the lights to join the Formby Bypass I glanced up at a bird drifting high up in the breeze. As it slowly drifted closer I realised it was a red kite. I should have realised before it got that much closer, nearly anything other than a kite would stall and drop out of the sky flying at that speed. I wonder if it's the same one I saw near Bank Hall last month, or the one that keeps turning up unexpectedly over Marshside.

There was the possibility that after a bit of a breather I could get off and walk over to Lunt Meadows or a visit to Crosby Marine Park. It remained a possibility, I just didn't have the energy. I did somehow rack up 55 species for the day, though.

Wellacre Country Park

Jack Lane Nature Reserve 

It was a bright morning but after a busy week running errands I didn't feel like braving a trip into town for weekend fun with trains. In fact, despite the weather, I was greatly inclined to spend the day in bed. In the end I compromised by having a bacon butty and rather a lot of tea before going for a slow dawdle round Wellacre Country Park.

The moment I stepped over the threshold it clouded over. I had my coat and boots on and had just locked the door so I was committed to the cause so wandered round the corner and got the 256 into Flixton. When I got off the bus robins and woodpigeons were singing in the school yard by the bus stop, which became the constant backing track for the afternoon.

Wellacre Wood 

Wellacre Wood was surprisingly busy of birds. Great tits sang in the undergrowth with the robins. Blue tits bounced about in the trees, goldfinches twittered in the treetops, magpies and parakeets clattered about with the woodpigeons. A dozen redwings in one of the hawthorn bushes on the margins was a nice surprise, the blackbirds flitting about everywhere were more expected. I honestly hadn't expected much this time of year, a useful reminder to keep an open mind as much as eyes and ears.

Carrion crows, magpies and a collared dove fossicked about around the horses in the field by the path, woodpigeons and magpies in the field by Jack Lane. Looking over towards the water treatment works a couple of dozen black-headed gulls fussed about while fifty-odd starlings whooped and whistled from the electricity pylons as they assembled ready to go off to roost.

Jack Lane Nature Reserve 

I was expecting the path through Jack Lane Nature Reserve to be very muddy and was pleasantly surprised to find it was okay. The water in the pools was high and the little drain between the higher and lower pools, which was bone dry most of last year, was an active rush. Unlike the birds. There were magpies, woodpigeons and robins aplenty in the trees around the reedbeds but it was otherwise very quiet until I walked down the lane towards Dutton's Pond and bumped into a mixed tit flock in the trees on the embankment. I'd given up on hearing or seeing any reedbed birds at all until a moorhen piped up at the corner of the reserve.

Mallards, Dutton's Pond 

A dozen mallards drifted about Dutton's Pond with a couple of coots. A couple of chaffinches flitted about in the willows and a song thrush sang from the big trees over the way. It had been threatening to rain and the intermittent spitting turned into a proper shower that lasted all of ten seconds then pretended it never happened. A pair of squirrels took this as a cue to chase each other noisily about the tree tops. Like you do.

Dutton's Pond 

Feeling lazy I didn't walk up to the top of Green Hill, limiting myself to trying to keep tabs of the runners and riders in the tit flocks in the trees at the base. In the end I concluded it was about a dozen each of blue tits and great tits and that the small flock of chaffinches were passersby. Another song thrush sang with the robins and woodpigeons and a carrion crow was doing its operatic best from the top of one of the alders.

Green Hill 

The Mersey was still high and there were no waterbirds about. Yet another song thrush sang from the waterside while woodpigeons clattered about in the trees. I looked at the interesting colour of the clouds blowing in and headed to the bus stop for the 255 back into Stretford. It had been a quiet afternoon ramble about with hints of an early Spring.

Bluebells, Wellacre 

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.