Home thoughts

Blue tit

I thought the blackbird was running late with its pre-dawn chorus then remembered we'd put the clocks forward. It was another stupidly windy day, with plenty of rain attached to it. I caught up with my sleep and pottered about the house before going over to see my dad for tea. The birds in the back garden were in a similar mood, mooching about in the roses or the embankment ivies, the sparrows and titmice coming to the feeders, the woodpigeons coming in to bathe before returning to the crowd grazing the school playing field.

Spadgers

Spadgers

Spadger, one of the old lads

The back garden is littered with pine cones, most of which still have some suet on them. They should be hanging from branches from lengths of hairy string but the magpies have decided that hairy string is the must-have component for a comfortably lined nest. As a result they've been unpicking the knots quicker than I can tie them back up again and in a couple of cases the string had been so pulled about it wouldn't take the weight of the pine cone anyway. All part of the game, I suppose.

• Blackbird 1
• Blue tit 3
• Carrion crow 2
• Dunnock 1
• Great tit 1
• House sparrow 15
• Jackdaw 2
• Lesser black-back 1
• Long-tailed tit 1
• Magpie 3
• Robin 1
• Starling 1
• Woodpigeon 3

Sale Water Park

Mallard

March had been doing that coming in like a lamb and going out like a lion rubbish again. A night of ferocious horizontal rain was followed by a bright, sunny dawn and a howling wind. The blackbird had started singing at five to five. The others followed an hour later, first the collared dove, then the carrion crow, next door's starling squeaked out a phrase and the robin made a few noises. It was not so much a dawn chorus as a roll call.

The last time I looked at the clock before I finally dozed off it was ten to eight. I breathed a sigh of relief: I wasn't going to hurl myself about the West Lancashire plain with the wind blowing a hooley. I had no idea what I actually was going to do, mind, and it was probably this conundrum that persuaded what's left of my mind to shut up for the night and get a couple of hours' rest.

This time of year common scoters are migrating across England every night. If you're lucky, and if there's not a lot of traffic noise round your way, you may hear them flying over, I've heard them a couple of times late at night. Some of them stop off for a rest on inland waters along the way, especially if the weather's been bad, and there were a lot of birds recorded from Northwest England this morning. A female was reported at Sale Water Park first thing. I decided I'd get my monthly travel pass renewed then bob over to Sale Water Park to see if it was still around, with a bit of luck the weather would have put off the jet ski enthusiasts who use the lake at the weekend.

I renewed my travel pass, reminding myself that if I survive a while longer, and if the government doesn't move the goalposts again, what I just paid for one month would cover sixteen years of rail and tram top-up to a bus pass. I got the 263 from Oxford Road and got off at Poplar Road in Stretford. I worried I may have to call the whole walk off, it teemed down with rain as the bus went through All Saints and Hulme but by the time we got into Old Trafford the sun was shining. It was a couple of minutes' walk down to what I still think of as the bus stop,  even though it was moved thirty-odd years ago, and took the path through the hedge, across the sports field to the corner and dropped down onto the Transpennine Trail. This is one of those unofficial paths you don't see on maps but are well-trodden on the ground, the drop down the bank onto the trail can be tricky in a wet Winter but despite the overnight downpour it was okay today. And it was lovely to drop down into cover out of the bitterly cold wind.

Walking to Stretford Ees 

Stretford Ees 

Goldfinches, robins, great tits and wrens sang, pairs of blue tits snuffled about in the catkins of willow trees and a drake mallard dozed by the brook. When I reached Stretford Ees I took the path by the tramline to the river. Chiffchaffs joined the songscape and long-tailed tits skittered about in the hawthorns. Ring-necked parakeets were notably absent. Perhaps the wind was putting them off, though I generally hear them muttering all the more when they're confined to barracks in bad weather.

The river was fast but not excessively high and mallards dabbled about the banks. An over-optimistic part of me looked for dippers as well as grey wagtails on the rocks and got rewarded with neither.

Sale Water Park 

The jet-skiers were in full play on the lake at Sale Water Park. I can moan about it but fair do's, the lake was designed for water sports. They only use half the lake, this half in the corner between the tram lines and the motorway, so there was an outside chance that the scoter might be over the other side, or perhaps on the pools on Broad Ees Dole. A handful of mallards and Canada geese hugged the far bank, all the cormorants were flyovers and that was it for this half of the game.

Broad Ees Dole 

Mute swans are nesting on Broad Ees Dole. Moorhens and gadwalls pottered about on the Teal Pool. At first glance the pool by the hide was quiet, just a handful of Canada geese and a pair of gadwalls. A dozen teal were feeding in the far corner and a pair of dabchicks slowly drifted out of the reeds. A redhead goosander which had been asleep on the island woke up and waddled into view. Blue tits, long-tailed tits and a reed bunting fossicked about in the brambles by the hide. I shared the hide with a chap who was taking his young Abyssinian cat for a walk, she was more interested in the jet skis on the lake than the birds.

Wrens, robins and a song thrush sang in the trees and goldfinches twittered in the treetops. Blue tits and long-tailed tits bounced through the willows and birches along the drains and a treecreeper skittered up the tree trunks.

Mute swan

The "quiet" end of the lake was dominated by mute swans and Canada geese. There weren't many mallards or coots about, a sign they're occupied in hidden corners nest-building. I've only seen the one great crested grebe on here lately so I'm not convinced that there might be another one sat on a nest somewhere. A mixed flock of gulls — half a dozen lesser black-backs and a couple of herring gulls — dropped in for a bath. Black-headed gulls and cormorants flew by but didn't stop.

Sale Water Park 

Cow Lane 

Every so often a heavy cloud passed over the sun and early April was replaced by mid-February in an instant. Walking through the woodland along Cow Lane chaffinches, blackbirds and a bullfinch joined the songscape and parakeets screeched through the treetops. I had a sit down by the café and watched the great tits, blue tits and coal tits on the feeders. A nuthatch sidled up a tree trunk and flew over onto the fat ball feeder. I hung around a bit to see if a willow tit might turn up. In the end I decided that the wind was too strong and too cold to linger any longer and I moved on.

I had a half-hearted potter about between Barrow Brook and Jackson's Boat before calling it quits and heading home. I'd had a better walk, and better birdwatching, than I'd been expecting given the weather even if I had been disappointed in finding the scoter.

Merseyside bumper bundle

Waders, New Brighton
Redshanks and turnstones with a dunlin (first left) and purple sandpipers (on the left-hand corner of the pontoon).

The weather was billed as being cool but sunny and after the past few days I had some catching up to do. I thought I'd max out the value of an all areas Saveaway and see if I couldn't nudge the year list a bit.

I've had no luck with purple sandpipers at New Brighton for ages. One had been reported earlier in the week, I thought I'd go and see if it was still around. It was a bit of a chance as I'd be arriving just after low tide so it might be gamboling out of sight on breakwaters, if it was still there at all. If I was lucky it might be amongst the waders loafing on the pontoons on the marine lake after pigging out on the ebbing tide.

It was a mercifully uneventful journey into Liverpool and the first train in downstairs at Lime Street was the New Brighton train. It's nice when things work. 

Liverpool Docks from New Brighton

It was bright, if cloudy, when I arrived at New Brighton and there was a great swathe of exposed beach out there with not very much on it. There were more herring gulls at the station than on the nearby beach. On the beach they were accompanied by a few lesser black-backs and black-headed gull and a lone common gull. All the real gull action was going on far out at the tideline where a thick white line was punctuated by cormorants.

Redshanks, turnstones and purple sandpiper (first left)

There was a small crowd of waders on the corner of the pontoon. A few redshanks mingled with a chattering mass of turnstones and just to one side was a dunlin. And two purple sandpipers. I was happy with that. They're nice little birds. A bit of a further wander round didn't add anything to the mix so I chugged back up the hill to the station and headed for Meols.

It still rankled that I'd dipped on the black redstart at Meols so I thought I'd give it another go. I walked down nearly to the promenade but turned down Guffitt's Rake to join the Wirral Coastal Path behind the Coastguard station. This is where the bird's been seen most regularly and it looks like textbook chat country so I spent a while nosing about and looking in the adjacent fields. Lots of magpies pottering about, robins and great tits sang. No black redstart. It occurred to me that if I walked down the Coastal Path looking for wheatears I might find the black redstart, so this is what I did.

Wirral Coastal Path 

Redshanks fussed and bathed in the creeks on the beach, lesser black-backs and herring gulls loafed, a handful of curlews strutted about and a pair of shelducks had a falling out. There was a hint that the tide might be on the turn: a cloud of herring gulls rose high from the tideline and circled their way inland, complaining all the way.

Lesser black-back (left) and great black-back

A great black-back and a lesser black-back loafed reasonably close together on the open mud. It's not often they obligingly appear in the same camera frame without a whole crowd scene in the way so despite the distance I took a few photos to try and get a decent comparison shot. I didn't but this heavily cropped one (below) will do for now. Besides the size difference and the leg colours (pinkish grey for great black-back, yellow for lesser) the colour of the wings and mantle is key. This lesser black-back is quite a dark example of our local subspecies, graelsii, found around Western Europe. (There's some variation, some are distinctly lighter than this and if the light's just wrong a very pale one may set you wondering about yellow-legged gull.) Even though it's dark there's a difference between the grey of the back and the black of the primary flight feathers. The great black-back is near enough black and doesn't show this contrast. (The Scandinavian subspecies of lesser black-back, intermedius, is the same shade as the great black-back. They're uncommon in the U.K. The nominate subspecies, fuscus, the Baltic gull, is very rare in the U.K. and looks different again, having sooty black upperparts.)

Lesser black-back (left) and great black-back

Female stonechat

It was nice to see so many pairs of stonechats and singing linnets on Meols Dunes. House sparrows rummaged about in the brambles, goldfinches twittered about the trees, linnets bounced in and out of gorse bushes and stonechats struck poses on any likely twigs that took their fancy.

There seemed to have been a mass emergence of seven-spot ladybirds

A heron and a little egret fished in the pool by the groyne. A small cluster of knots loafed at the edge of the pool with a few redshanks.

Leasowe Common 

I decided I wasn't heading inland to walk the path by the paddocks. I'd promised myself a low-mud day. Besides, I could get good views of most of the paddocks between the trees from the path through Leasowe Common. Woodpigeons lined up on the fence like an identity parade (they were all woodpigeons). A movement just in front caught my eye and just as I was about to dismiss it as wind-blown debris the only wheatear of the day hopped up onto a pile of horse dung and surveyed the surroundings. While I was scanning around to see if any more wheatears were about I found a very nice, bright male white wagtail. A couple of fellow birdwatchers let on and we exchanged hopes for a fruitful Spring passage.

Stitchwort

Despite my promise to myself I took the muddy patch into the thin woodland by the pond. Titmice bounced through the trees, chiffchaffs and a reed bunting sang from willows, woodpigeons clattered about, and blackbirds, robins and wrens bustled through the undergrowth. A great spotted woodpecker was quite rude about my passing by, the woodpigeons in the nearby paddocks weren't remotely fussed.

Birch woodwort, I think,  even though it's on willow

Coots and mallards — and a couple of small, fluffy dogs that were having too much fun to listen to their owner — splashed about in the pond. The singing Cetti's warbler in the reeds can't have been more than six feet away but see it I did not. Nor the totally unexpected dabchick that suddenly started hinneying not much further away.

By the pond

I had no more luck seeing the Cetti's warbler singing in the brambles by the lighthouse. The crowd of greenfinches, house sparrows and dunnocks were more obliging but very fidgety.

Kerr's Field was busy with woodpigeons, moorhens and magpies. A curlew fossicked about and was the only wader to be seen. The only small birds were robins and dunnocks. A pair of stock doves kept themselves away from the woodpigeons and a couple of pigeons that had flown in. They were a nice surprise, I seldom see them here.

Curlew and woodpigeons

Last year it seemed I was falling over spoonbills, I've not seen one this year. One was reported as showing nicely at Marshside this afternoon so I decided that would be the last stop of the day. 

Black-tailed godwits

It was teatime when I got there and as I walked down Marshside Road the marshes were settling down for the night and the clouds had rolled in, deepening the gloom. Wigeons and teal whistled in pools. There were lots of Canada geese and a few greylags, all spaced out just outside pecking distance. There seemed a lot more mute swans than usual on the marshes and the cobs were in full display mode. Lapwings and redshanks were few and far between. A pair of great black-backs dominated the Junction Pool just by their presence. A few dozen black-tailed godwits bunched up tightly and twittered nervously. The great black-backs took flight and all the godwits went up and disappeared into the estuary. Way in the background a couple of hundred pink-footed geese rose from the salt marsh on the other side of the Marine Drive. I couldn't see the culprit but I suspect it was the male marsh harrier that made a pass over the pool by Sandgrounders ten minutes later.

Black-tailed  godwits, black-headed gulls and great black-backs

Shovelers

Shovelers

Sandgrounders was closed but I had a look at the pools from the screens. Shovelers and teals dabbled, tufted ducks and wigeons dozed. The black-headed gulls were busy establishing nesting territories. This colony's shrunk over the past few years, starting before the arrival of avian flu. I don't know why, it seems to be a trend echoed elsewhere in the Northwest.

Black-headed gulls and teal

The spoonbill was gratifyingly easy to pick up. It was on the pool across the road from Sandgrounders and it was very actively feeding. Frustratingly, it was hugging the near bank so most of the time I was just seeing its back and the top of its head. It came out into the open often enough to confirm it was a spoonbill and not two egrets playing a jape.

Spoonbill

Spoonbill

I'd misremembered the 44 bus times, I thought they were every half hour after six o'clock, they're every hour. I walked the length of Marshside Road, got the X2 into Southport and got to the station just in time to see the Manchester train close its doors and depart. So I doglegged it back, getting the train back to Liverpool and the Manchester train back. What I lost by getting home ten minutes later than planned was gained by not having to walk home from Urmston, such are the vagaries of our local train service. I was quite worn out but I'd bumped the year list up to 149 even though I'd dipped on that black redstart again.

Wet Wednesday

Woodpigeon, Stretford

It was a wild and woolly night, which at my age just means the weather was rough. Any slight intention I may have had to brave the elements and walk abroad were knocked on the head by a tree on the line at Glazebrook and damage to overhead cables between Bolton and Lostock. I can't say I like windy weather, rain I can cope with but listening to the wind howling about the chimneypots gives me the screaming abdabs.

Spadgers

In the frequent, though brief, sunny spells the spadgers, titmice, collared doves and woodpigeons ventured out to raid the feeders and rummage about amongst the wild garlic and hardy geraniums already carpeting the borders. In the frequent, and heavy, wintry showers they joined the blackbirds, robin and wren in the depths of cover. I couldn't blame them one bit.

Collared dove

The weather calmed down at teatime. The wind was still gusting strong but the rain had passed and there was even the hint of sunshine behind the clouds. I took the opportunity for an hour's wander round Wellacre Country Park, just to get the knots out of the system.

Wellacre Wood

Blackbirds, wrens and robins sang in Wellacre Woods. Woodpigeons, jackdaws and parakeets got ready to roost while titmice had one last rummage about in the hedgerows. 

Walking over to Dutton's Pond from Wellacre Wood

The creaks and groans and rattles of the trees in the wind sounded more than a little ominous. Cherry blossom blew about like a snowstorm and twigs rained down from the treetops. I fair trotted through the wood, as best could on paths saturated by the day's rains, and headed straight for Dutton's Pond. There was no way I was going to attempt the paths to Jack Lane, if the mud and puddles didn't get me the lack of cover from the wind would.

The first Spanish bluebells were opening.

The sun was close to setting at Dutton's Pond. The coots and moorhens obviously have nests on the go, one of each was doing a last patrol of the pond, their calls being answered quietly from the reeds. The usual mallards were nowhere to be seen, they'd probably joined the roost on Irlam Locks.

Dutton's Pond 

The train service had been restored and I struck lucky and got the direct service home from Flixton. As I left the station a couple of dozen black-headed gulls passed overhead on their way to the roost on Salford Quays. Forty-odd more passed overhead as I got to the garden gate. I hadn't seen any on the school playing field all day.

Gorton Reservoirs

Great crested grebe

A cool grey morning was forecast to get wet 'n' windy so I thought I'd best not walk abroad in exposed plains. I decided to stay within the confines of my monthly travel card and headed to Manchester Piccadilly to play train service bingo. The train to Rose Hill Marple was first out so I caught that and got off at Fairfield for a walk around the Gorton Reservoirs.

The start of the Fallowfield Loop 

The start of the Fallowfield Loop walk is just round the corner from Fairfield Station. This is part of the disused railway line that went from Manchester Central (now the conference centre some us still find ourselves calling G-Mex) to Fairfield via Trafford Bar and Chorlton. The eight miles that are left run from Fairfield to Chorlton. I was only going the few hundred yards to the Gorton Reservoirs.

The local ring-necked parakeets made a racket but I didn't often see them. Wrens, starlings, chiffchaffs and goldfinches sang, the dunnocks, robins and greenfinches were busy foraging and the woodpigeons canoodled quietly. Carrion crows and magpies clattered about, especially near the school, and lesser black-backs seemed to be commuting between the school and the reservoirs.

The Fallowfield Loop 

I turned off the loop and followed the path over the causeway between upper and lower reservoirs. Up to now I'd been pretty much sheltered from the wind, it bit now. Oddly, though, it still felt mild.

The upper reservoir was quiet: a pair of mute swans fed in the near corner and six coots spread themselves about a bit.

Lower Gorton Reservoir

The lower reservoir was busier. Mallards, moorhens and coots bustled about by the near bank. More coots drifted about on the open water with rafts of tufted ducks. Small groups of lesser black-backs and herring gulls bathed and loafed and black-headed gulls flew around all over the shop. I could see one great crested grebe but I couldn't find a partner for it. Over on the far side pairs of Canada geese shouted the odds and mugged for scraps from passersby.

Lesser black-backs and herring gulls

Turkey tail fungus 

Whenever a path goes under an outrageously leaning tree like this I always take a photo before going ahead. That way, should anything happen my family have a photo they can share saying: "That's the one that got him."

I decided I'd walk round the Northern edge of the reservoir rather than walking through Debdale Park. A couple of jays stole through the trees like ghosts. A chiffchaff squeaked annoyance at me as it bounced through the trees by the path. An invisible blackcap sang from the depths of a holly bush. Magpies, blackbirds, great tits and wrens fidgeted about and a small flock of goldfinches twittered past overhead. 

Lower Gorton Reservoir 

There were hints of rain as I crossed over Gore Brook and walked past the Canada geese and pigeons on my way to Hyde Road for the bus. I took a circuitous route home, any ideas I had of adding a few municipal parks to the afternoon's itinerary were knocked on the head as the heavens opened as the bus chugged through Denton. I took the opportunity to do a reconnaissance of Werneth Low by bus before knocking it on the head and going home. The forecast says tomorrow's going to be brighter, I might be able to catch up with myself then.

Irlam Moss

Irlam Moss 

The blackbird made another early start for the dawn chorus and provoked an answer from the one claiming the school grounds. The collared dove and woodpigeons waited until there was signs of daybreak. It was a busy morning for errands and by the time I'd finally got a pot of tea I didn't have a lot of get up and go about me, or even less than usual. I dragged myself out of the house, got the train into Irlam and had a nosy round Irlam Moss — walking up Astley Road and walking back down Roscoe Road and marvelling at the difference a six inch thickness of tarmac can make to a road surface.

Astley Road 

House sparrows, greenfinches, goldfinches and great tits fidgeted about in the hedgerows and blue tits foraged in pairs in the trees. I didn't see or hear any chiffchaffs or long-tailed tits until I got to the junction with Roscoe Road. Robins, wrens, blackbirds and a song thrush sang by the wayside, chaffinches sang in trees on the field margins. The woodpigeons were busy either feeding in the fields or clattering about amorously in the treetops. 

The fields between Astley Road and Moss Road were busy with jackdaws and carrion crows. The stripped turf fields between Astley Road and Roscoe Road looked very quiet at a glance but the binoculars quickly picked up the pheasants and magpies in the field margins and the blackbirds and song thrushes on the ground. A lesser black-back that flew in for a few minutes was pleasingly conspicuous. I heard the pair of lapwings a good ten minutes before I finally saw them.

A buzzard floated high overhead and drifted down towards New Moss Wood. I was disappointed not to see any kestrels on the fields by Astley Road, as I walked down Roscoe Road I bumped into the male kestrel that's usually kicking around. In the distance a clod of earth in one of the fields moved and turned out to be a male grey partridge out on a walk by itself. Being a grey partridge it was more of a scuttle than a walk and it very quickly became invisible again despite the lack of vegetation on the field.

Roscoe Road
The chimney stacks in the distance are the Carrington Cloud Factory

I pottered about for an hour. It was one of those afternoons that was "a bit quiet" or "plenty about," depending on your mood. I decided I was in a *plenty about" mood despite my pretty much sleepwalking along the way. The knees confirmed the weather forecast's prediction that tomorrow's going to be cool and wet. Ah well, the bird baths in my back garden needed topping up.