Home thoughts

My word, even the parakeets won't eat the rowan berries. I can't say I'm particularly sorry about that, it's hard enough work keeping the regulars fed. The spadgers found the fat balls yesterday, it gives it another day before I'm going to have to resupply the feeders. Still, it's nice to see a crowd of them again. I've been mentioning signs of Autumn all week, the return of the coal tits to the back garden is yet another. 

It's going to be another very wet night followed by another sun'n'showers day. It'll be the first fully free day of the week for me, I've a few ambitious plans that will like as not come to nothing.

Pennington Flash (again)

Glossy ibis

It had poured down throughout the night, which is no bad thing. I had an errand to do first thing, I decided I'd move on from there and spend the day on a tour of Greater Manchester, visiting a few of the sites I've not got round to yet this year. First, though, I'd go over to Pennington Flash for the glossy ibis that arrived yesterday evening. I don't see so many glossy ibises to want to pass over one turning up locally.

As the 126 pulled into Leigh Bus Station I saw the report that the ibis had flown away from the Horrocks spit. Ah well. I headed for the flash anyway, I'd have a look to see what else was about on the flash, check out the Charlie Owen Hide then move on.

A robin sang by the St Helens Road entrance and great tits creaked, clicked and chunnered in the hedgerows. The trees have been so stressed by the heatwaves they've begun prematurely dropping their leaves. Dampened by the overnight rain it was all very autumnal.

Pennington Flash 

There may have been more Canada geese on the car park. Some of the drake mallards were nearly out of eclipse and were jockeying for positions close to ducks. No swifts or hirundines over the flash, giving uninterrupted free rein to plunge-diving common terns.

The ibis had flown but I still had a look at the spit from the F.W.Horrocks Hide. Fewer lapwings, more coots, and a couple of dozen great crested grebes in a raft at the end of the spit.

The drake gadwalls on the pool at the Tom Edmondson Hide were almost completely out of their eclipse colours already, another early sign of Autumn, I expected at least another couple of weeks of bafflement as they and their youngsters mingled with not-quite-full-grown mallards. A heron stalked the pool and the cygnets were cruising about with their parents again.

Heron

Another pristine drake gadwall dabbled on the Kidney Pool with a small group of teals as a brown hawker patrolled the tops of the reeds.

I could only find a handful of lapwings at Ramsdales.

A dried-up dragonfly pond

Yay! A puddle!

Chiffchaffs squeaked, robins sang and a mixed tit flock bounced through the willows as I walked round to the Charlie Owen Hide. A migrant hawker patrolled the hawthorns in the open scrub by the golf course.

From the Charlie Owen Hide 

As I approached the hide a birdwatcher came out and said: "There's a glossy ibis on the pool if you're interested." Amazed by my luck I thanked him, went in and it was the first bird I saw. I still thanked the birdwatcher sitting in the hide who pointed it out to me. On the right-hand side of the patch of greenery that was the shallow end of the pool there was a grey streak of grey mud and the ibis was fossicking about on there. The rather flat dark colouration suggested that it was a juvenile bird.

Glossy ibis 

Glossy ibis 

Glossy ibis

Glossy ibis 

The remains of the pool on the left were crowded with gadwalls and teals.

I decided to move on but circumstances required that I bob off back home. I just missed the 126 and 35 at Leighton Bus Station (they leave at the same time) so I got the V1, hoping to connect with the 132 at Sale Lane. As it was, I'd have a 25 minute wait there. It worked out quickest to stay on the bus into the city centre and get the bus home. (Wednesday edit: all well in the end.) A bit of a dash about but it was jolly nice to have seen the ibis.

High Rid Reservoir

Grey wagtail

It was a cool (high sixties), cloudy day. Once in a while there'd be half a minute of light rain. I've undercooked the walks round Lostock and Horwich so far this year so I thought I'd have a look at High Rid Reservoir and have a general potter about to ease me into the week.

High Rid Lane

I got the 576 to Ox Hey Lane (the 575 and 576 both stop here) and walked up Fall Birch Road to the reservoir. It was quiet going: a robin sang, a goldfinch twittered, carrion crows, magpies and woodpigeons flew overhead.

High Rid Reservoir 

The reservoir was busier. Small rafts of mallards and coots bobbed about at the sides. A dozen Canada geese steamed across the reservoir. A few herring gulls, lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls loafed on the water. A tufted duck and her duckling kept away from a small raft of tufted drakes. A family of dabchicks fed as a group in a line with a parent at either end, a couple of pairs of dabchicks cruised about, the great crested grebes were all adults and kept to themselves. Needless to say, I double-checked all the gulls, ducks and grebes, just in case. The grey wagtail and pied wagtails working the margins were very skittish.

Tufted duck and duckling

Grey wagtail 

Dabchick

Tufted duck and duckling 

I'd been impressed on the walk up by how green the grass still was. The little pond by the reservoir still had some water in it and the vegetation around it looked lush. A willow warbler squeaked in the trees and a whitethroat razzed a passing spaniel. I dropped down to the path along the wall by the pond and checked out the trees. Autumn passage has started for some birds, it's worth checking isolated pockets of trees on hillsides for anything taking a pitstop. I couldn't tell if the willow warbler and whitethroat were Summer residents or passersby, either way they were all I found. I almost missed the pair of stock doves amongst the squadrons of woodpigeons flying down the hillsides.

The pond 

High Rid Reservoir 

I walked back up to the reservoir and carried on walking round. A handful of swallows passed through, a dozen sand martins stayed for a feed.

High Rid Reservoir 

For a change I took the path at the top of the reservoir over to Old Hall Lane. It smelt like it had been muck-spreading time on one of the fields, which explains the crowd of carrion crows and jackdaws rummaging about in it.

By Old Hall Lane 

It was very quiet down the lane until I reached the corner with Old Hall Mews. A great tit called in the trees and I stopped to look for it. I found a treecreeper first. Then a chiffchaff, a goldcrest and three blue tits. Two great tits called but I could see neither. Bumping into a mixed tit flock always feels like a lucky bonus in August.

I started to walk down Old Hall Clough. Two heifers had got out and were walking up the path. I decided to leave them to it, they were at that age where their response to a passing human could be panic or play and either could be dangerous.

Old Hall Clough, with accessories 

Winter Hill from Old Hall Lane 

So I walked up Old Hall Lane to Old Kiln Lane and walked into Doffcocker. I was wondering if I had the legs for a walk round the lodge when I noticed the 574 back to Bolton was due. The advantage of this bus is that I could get off in Great Lever for the buses to the Trafford Centre and save myself getting ensnared in Bolton town centre traffic. 

Instead, we got stuck behind a road traffic accident in Fernhill. I got off, walked up for the 607 to Wigan and got off in Hindley Green where I could get the 132 back to the Trafford Centre. Walking down to Atherton Road for the bus I passed Clayhole Park so I had a quick nosy.

The Clayhole 

The Clayhole is as advertised, a water-filled claypit. Canada geese, mallards and black-headed gulls loafed; mute swans cruised; pigeons, coots and moorhens pottered about and there was the inevitable scramble at the rustle of a bag of scraps.

The rest of the journey back was, mercifully, uneventful. 

Home thoughts

An unruly garden

I've started feeding the birds again. I've had a look round the back garden and once you get past the boysenberries having another mad dash to conquer the universe it's pretty grim out there despite half of it being in the shade of the railway embankment sycamores half the day. The rowan tree is still awash with berries, which is very unusual by this stage of the game, so I had a close look and they're pretty mean fare. The blackbirds have shunned the tree and the magpies which have pretty much monopolised it have given up on eating the berries. I'm not altogether surprised, for the first time ever the woodpigeons and blackbirds left me a bumper crop of boysenberries to harvest and I couldn't thank them for it. There was a lot of soft fruit in the garden and very little of it very palatable. I've frozen small batches for adding a few at a time for adding to porridge, but I'm doing it for the anthocyanins in Winter rather than flavour. So I've started feeding the birds again a couple of months earlier than advised.

It took the great tits and blue tits twenty minutes to notice.

Bats

Lostock Park 

I had lots of plans for a mild, sunny Saturday, slept through the setting-off times for most of them and settled down to a lazy day. I felt guilty about this so I thought I'd do a bit of local patch-watching to see if I'd have any more luck finding much going to roost than I've been finding during the day. 

The answer was no There were plenty of woodpigeons about, some joining a magpie in having one last rummage in the grass before going to bed. A wren sang. A migrant hawker patrolled the sweet chestnuts by the skateboard park. And lesser black-backs headed for the Salford Quays roost.

Barton Clough 

Lostock Park 

As the sun set the parched grass glowed eerily and reminded me of photographs taken on infrared film. I'd brought my bat detector along hoping to find something but didn't even pick up any mutterings about the bat nesting/roosting boxes. The latest candidate for my last swift of the year shot overhead bearing Southwest.

On the way back home I had a look for any bats at the station and saw a couple of soprano pipistrelles (I need the detector for the ID) flitting round the trees on Humphrey Park.

It took me more than ten minutes to walk the less than hundred yards home. Nearly all that time was spent watching another soprano pipistrelle dancing round the railings by the playing field. Yet another joined it for a moment before being chased off into the night, the victor coming back to its dance.

Wellacre Country Park

By Green Hill 

I decided that I was going to be frustrated that the day's tally hasn't got to fifty, especially as one of the birds I hadn't seen today was blue tit. Instead of getting the train back to Urmston and walking home I stayed on to Flixton and walked over to Wellacre Country Park to try and bump that total up a bit.

It was dead quiet on the Mersey at Flixton Bridge, save for a woodpigeon having a drink. Holly blues and large whites fluttered about the bushes by the road.

I walked along the path at the edge of Green Hill looking to see the usual family of blue tits in the willow trees. I didn't. Chiffchaffs, wrens and dunnocks squeaked me on my way.  Large whites, speckled woods and holly blues skittered about the brambles. A Southern hawker patrolled the canopies of dogwoods, elderberries and whitebeams. A few bumblebees visited the goldenrods punctuating the bramble patches. But no blue tits.

Goldenrod 

Mallards, coots and moorhens dozed on Dutton's Pond and a chiffchaff squeaked in the willows. The willows along the railway embankment were very quiet of anything and there were only couples of carrion crows and woodpigeons on the fields.

Walking to Jack Lane 

Jack Lane Nature Reserve 

I found a blue tit — a blue tit — on Jack Lane but I found a goldcrest first. A young moorhen fossicked about in the reedbed by the path. The single pool that was left, about the size of a table cloth and not a lot deeper, was covered in pond skaters so crowded they could barely move without colliding.

Pond skaters

A couple of swallows flew by. A chiffchaff, a robin and a wren marked my passing by. There was a reassuring clatter of woodpigeons in the treetops.

Walking down Jack Lane into Town Head there was no sign of the swarm of sand martins of my last visit. Nor any sign of the flock of house sparrows usually resident in the hedgerows.

I headed for Irlam Locks for a nosy. A few swallows flew overhead. There were sparrows in the hedgerows by Irlam Road. Collared doves sang in the background. 

Irlam Locks 

Mallards dozed by the canal. There weren't as many black-headed gulls about as my last visit but I was a couple of hours earlier this time. A few herring gulls and lesser black-backs loafed on the lock with mallards, black-headed gulls and cormorants. The great crested grebes' humbug was successfully fishing for itself. A common gull flew in. The common tern fished by the gates. Over on the water treatment works magpies, carrion crows and black-headed gulls fussed about on the pans while woodpigeons and collared doves fed in the grass. And no sand martins.

I looked downstream from the lock. A couple of mallards drifted by the bank and cormorants fished midstream. Carrion crows and pigeons loafed on the bays. Then a raven flew over and into Irlam, a beardless youth missing a few tail feathers and looking very front-heavy as a consequence.

I turned and walked back. A sand martin hawked over the field by Irlam Road. I got the bus home with a day's tally of fifty-four and a sense of seasons passing.

Marshside

Snipes

We're in the new normal where "cooler and fresher" means high seventies. It was certainly cloudier. I set out for a nosy at Marshside. 

The trains behaved themselves and lunchtime found me walking down a very quiet Marshside Road. The house sparrows, starlings and pigeons were keeping a very low profile and I didn't see any house martins overhead. A cool sea breeze made the walking very pleasant indeed.

Sutton's Marsh from Marshside Road 

I got to the reserve and looked over the marshes either side of the road. My first impression was that they looked lush and green then I realised that I was comparing them to the bleached straw colours I've been seeing the past few days, including the roadside verges here. Still, dry though they were the marshes had green grass and Sutton's Marsh was busy with greylags and Canada geese but only in the corner by Marine Drive where the ground was still damp. The white shape tiptoeing about the grazing cattle's legs was a little egret. A heron stood to one side watching for anything to be disturbed in its direction.

Greylags

The land drains and little pools away from that corner were dry and cracked. Flocks of starlings and handfuls of linnets and meadow pipits fossicked about in the grass. Black-headed gulls were few and far between. A couple of house martins hawked over the marsh and a swallow flew by. A flock of a dozen lapwings flew over the road into the marsh, followed by a couple of curlews and three snipes. They'd been disturbed by a tractor over by Nels Hide.

Tansy and, I think, white mignonette

There were still flowers in bloom along the verge but there were hardly any butterflies, just a few large whites. For all that tansy is a mass of tiny flowers it doesn't seem to be much favoured by insects. Nor were there any signs of warblers and the stonechats I sometimes see along here weren't in evidence.

There was nothing on the remains of Junction Pool except a couple of sleeping Canada geese. A sign told me Nels Hide was closed until the end of the month. I walked over to Sandgrounders. There were plenty of goldfinches twittering about and a dunnock and a chiffchaff squeaked from the old sand plant.

Canada geese, standing room only

The lagoon was crowded with Canada geese. Even the usual great black-back had to muscle its way through the throng. It found a carcass in the water and dragged it ashore to feed on it. I honestly couldn't tell what it was, it was a limp bag of whatever and looked rancid. It evidently tasted rancid, too: the gull took two bites then left it and took a long drink to take away the taste. The carrion crow that has been hanging round for seconds wasn't enthusiastic once it got its chance for a closer look.

A couple of tufted ducks and a gadwall drifted about as best could, mallards dozed, coots and moorhens pottered about the sides. A few dozen gulls, mostly herring gulls with just a few lesser black-backs, loafed in the grass beyond. Beyond them, starlings and lapwings fossicked in the grass. There was a conspicuous lack of godwits or ruffs.

At Sandgrounders 

The pool in front of Sandgrounders had been reduced to an expanse of mud with a shallow channel either side. Canada geese and coots thronged the banks. A few teal dabbled, a couple of wigeon, arrived early and still in eclipse gingery browns, grazed as best could on the island. Black-headed gulls and a lone common gull dozed in the grass further out. Little ringed plovers, mostly juveniles, skittered about on the mud.

Little ringed plovers, not so easy to spot when they're still

Snipes

The star turns were the snipes. There were over a dozen of them all told feeding in the channels. Most were juveniles with broad buff bracelines down their backs and gingery tiger-striped plumage. Four of them came close to the hide and showed exceptionally well.

Snipe

Snipes 

Snipes

Snipes

Snipe

Snipes

Snipes

Also showing well was the charm of goldfinches feeding on the thistledown on the marsh. Small family groups would break out to go for a drink before rejoining the feast, the young birds always following an adult, never going out on their own. Some of them were still young enough to be fed when they begged, they can't have been long out of the nest as adult goldfinches very quickly put a block on that. At least two juvenile linnets had attached themselves to the flock.

Goldfinches 

A last scout round found a common sandpiper lurking in a corner. I left Sandgrounders and asked myself if I wanted to walk round to Crossens and the answer was no. A scan over the salt marshes found a few herring gulls, carrion crows and swallows. A couple of cormorants flew out into the estuary. As I walked down Marshside Road a pair of stock doves flew into Sutton's Marsh and a flock of pigeons flew over to the rooftops of Marshside.

As I waited for the bus back into Southport a buzzard circled overhead with the inevitable pair of carrion crows suggesting it might want to move out of their patch.

Much to my surprise the day's tally came to forty-eight. I wasn't sure whether to enjoy the pleasant surprise or be frustrated it hadn't reached the fifty mark.