Leighton Moss

Oystercatchers

It was a day of sunshine and thundery showers but at least the wind had calmed down a lot. I decided I'd visit Leighton Moss, if the weather turned dodgy I could shelter in the hides or get a cup of tea in the visitor centre and it wasn't a long walk for the train home.

I got the Barrow train and stayed on to Ulverston to have a look at the Morecambe Bay estuaries. As the train passed the coastal hides at Leighton Moss I could see there were plenty of mute swans and little egrets on the outer pools and a small flock of black-tailed godwits near the Eric Morecambe Hide. The pool by the Allen Hide is largely hidden from the train by trees, I could see bits of white islands which I guess would be the nesting black-headed gulls and it's likely there'd be avocets in there, too, as I didn't see any on the outer pools.

Small gaggles of greylags grazed in fields between Silverdale and Arnside. This time of year I'd expect to see plenty of swallows around Arnside, I just saw the one today. The salt marsh on the other side of the Kent was bone dry, a few jackdaws and carrion crows pottered about amongst the sheep. The salt marshes by the Leven were slightly wetter, a few pools had water and little egrets and greylags were dotted around.

A few pairs of eiders cruised on the Leven as the train passed over the viaduct, the drakes looking very spruce indeed. I wonder why the start of the year was so barren of them. The train startled a grey wagtail which flew up then returned to the rocks below, a flash of lemon yellow and grey. A couple of pairs of shelducks pottered about on the mud on the other side.

I had a quarter of an hour's wait at Ulverston. The station songscape was rich: blackbirds, robins and a song thrush did most of the work with a couple of wren solos; a blackcap and a chiffchaff sang further down the line. The lesser black-backs outnumbered the herring gulls but it was herring gulls that seemed to be sitting on nests, I'd seen a couple of lesser black-backs on nests on the edge of town on the way in.

There were about a dozen eiders on the inland side of the Leven viaduct on the way back to Silverdale, and also a common sandpiper on the mud. The first red deer of the day watched the train pass by just outside Cark, another was browsing the marsh by the Kent.

I got off at Silverdale Station where the house sparrows were bustling about their business and walked round to Leighton Moss. The weather was fine but some of the clouds upwind looked ominous. I kept my fingers crossed.

Though the feeders have been taken down by the Hideout there was still plenty of activity in the trees and bushes nearby. Chiffchaffs, robins and blackcaps sang and the mallards seemed to be getting by tidying up after picnics.

Getting a record photo of one of the little gulls (the white blob in the middle of the picture) would have been a challenge beyond my capability even before the camera's autofocus locked on the photo-bombing black-headed gull 

There was a clamour from the black-headed gulls nesting at Lilian's Hide. I'd barely sat down before I noticed there was a little gull amongst the cloud of black-headed gulls and swifts wheeling about the other side of the pool . In fact, there were two, both first-calendar-year birds. A few pairs of gadwalls, mallards and pochards pottered about and a shoveler dozed in the reeds. I also noticed that the great black-backs were back to nesting on the osprey platform in the distance. A big vote of thanks to the chap who spotted a bittern flying over the reeds over towards the causeway. 

Black-headed gulls on their nests

The willow scrub on the way to the reedbeds was quietly busy. The chiffchaffs gave way to the willow warblers, with backing vocals from Reed warblers and just the one Cetti's warbler, and a sedge warbler sang in the willows behind the seat at the corner. Great tits and robins fossicked about the pathside, blue tits bounced about in the trees, all were quiet and too busy to be bothered with people.

Heading for the reedbeds

The weather's been so cool lately it's been dismal for dragonflies and butterflies. I'd only seen the one damselfly so far this year, a blue-tailed damselfly at Pennington Flash. I added a couple more to the tally today, and was as slow on the uptake at identifying what I was looking at as I had been then.

For all that the swifts were swarming over the pools and drains there weren't many hirundines about, just a couple of swallows and a house martin. Perhaps they were all over at the causeway pool. Looking at the train times and the big black cloud looming over the horizon I wasn't going to be going that way today. Reed buntings, reed warblers and greenfinches sang in the reedbeds. I was struck by how dry the ground was, the margins by the path were hard-baked mud despite the cool weather. I thought I could hear bearded tits but concluded it was wishful thinking and dried reed stems cracking in the breeze.

The main drain through Leighton Moss 

A chap walking back enthused about the good views he'd been having of bitterns at the Griesdale Hide so i headed that way first. It was heaving, standing room only, I didn't linger. A few red deer hinds grazing by the side of the hide were the highlight. A couple of rolls of thunder reminded me to watch the time for the last reliable train home of the afternoon.

Oystercatchers
The changing of the guard on the nest.

It was considerably calmer at the Tim Jackson Hide. Gadwalls dabbled and bathed, mallards and coots sat on nests and kept beady eyes on a heron stalking round. The oystercatchers were back on their usual nest stop the sand martin nest box, one feeding on the mud and one sitting, until the time came to swap places. My only marsh harrier of the day, a female, drifted over from the coastal hides and headed towards the Griesdale Hide.

Walking back through the reedbeds 

On the walk back I could definitely hear bearded tits. I wondered where they were then a female flew across the path right in front of me and disappeared into the reeds. A fleeting view but it's always gratifying to get a close encounter with them away from the grit trays.

The sparrows were still busy at Silverdale Station, as was a coal tit ferrying food to its nest. The wind suddenly blew up and the sky went black. It started heaving down a couple of minutes before the train arrived. I couldn't complain, I'd struck very lucky with the birdwatching.

Merseyside mini-bundle

Temminck's stint, Marshside

I had decided I was going to go to Marshside to see if I could add the Temminck's stints there to the year list, then I watched the sheet of water descending from the sky and decided to wait for the lunchtime train. Which worked: by the time I got to Southport it was dry and sunny, with most of the cloud cover inland. It was also ferociously windy.

Canada geese and goslings

The marshes looked a lot quieter than on my last visit. Woodpigeons grazed and Canada goose families pottered about. The starlings and house sparrows were mostly staying in the shelter of the houses and gardens. The few lapwings that were about hunkered down out of the wind and skylarks sang from the ground. A sedge warbler sang from the depths of the vegetation in the drain by the path. Watching a little egret flying sideways across the road I could understand why most of the birds were grounded. 

Swifts and house martins hawked at head height, flying into the wind and almost stalling in the process. Every so often they'd relax and let the wind blow them back up the road before banking and tacking their way back. I thought this was my opportunity to get close photos of the birds, for once they weren't just zipping past all the while. I got a lot of photos of sky and wing tips. The birds weren't the only ones being pushed about by the wind.

I managed to get just the one swift in the frame of a photo

Mute swans, mallards and gadwalls cruised about the junction pool. An avocet and a couple of lapwings fed in the margins and a dozen or so black-tailed godwits loafed at one side. There weren't any ruffs about and the few redshanks that were around took some finding.

Mute swans

There were a few people already in Nels Hide. I took my seat and had a scan round the marsh. A few mallards, shovelers, gadwalls and greylags cruised about the pools. I found a couple of dunlins in breeding plumage with their black bellies and a couple of ringed plovers skittered about the mud. At last someone said: "The stints are back!" and I looked over to the right hand side to find them and had no luck seeing them. I was looking too far away, a couple of the birders showed me where the stints were: on the near bank at the corner of the hide.

Temminck's stint

This was easily the closest unimpeded view I've ever had of Temminck's stints. Usually I go away with the impression of a pint-sized common sandpiper with plain upperparts. This closer view showed that the upperparts aren't so plain after all.

Temminck's stint

Temminck's stint

Herring gulls, lesser black-backs and coots

Half a dozen large gulls had a wash and brush up in one of the pools away from the hide. The other birds kept a wide berth, a ringed plover flying over and settling on the mud in front of the hide for a while before flying over to join the dunlins and ringed plovers on the other side of the pool.

Ringed plover

Ringed plover

A mallard passed by with her ducklings very close to hand. When I see mallards with huge clutches of baby ducklings I can't help wondering why the world isn't knee-deep in them. Then I watch the ducklings go about their business and wonder why they're not an endangered species. This family looked like they had a chance against marauding gulls.

Mallard and ducklings

The stints moved away from the hide and eventually out of sight. Soon I was the only person left in the hide. A sedge warbler hopped up and down the wire fence as if working itself up into song, each time changing its mind and going back to feed on the bank. The Temminck's stints reappeared further along the bank, any other time I would have been thrilled to see them so close.

Sedge warbler

A light breeze

I made my way back to Marshside Road and headed for the bus back into Southport. I decided I'd move on to another site rather than fight my way along Marine Drive to Crossens. In the end I decided to go and have a look at Crosby Marine Park, which I've neglected this Spring.

The wind hadn't eased any when I arrived in Waterloo and the clouds were looking ominous. I headed straight for the shelter of the little nature reserve to catch my breath and have a look over the lake in relative shelter. Black-headed gulls and common terns bobbed about in the wind low over the water's surface. There wasn't anything except black-headed gulls on the water as far as I could see.

Crosby Marine Lake 

I headed to the wire fence by Seaforth Nature Reserve to see what was about. I had already decided I wasn't for being windblown and sandblasted on the beach. Canada geese and rabbits grazed and shelducks dozed on the grass. Cormorants, oystercatchers, herring gulls, lesser black-backs and a couple of great black-backs loafed by the pools. The rafts over near the hides were busy — and noisy — with black-headed gulls and common terns. Keeping the binoculars steady in the wind was very hard work and I had to concede that trying to find any arctic terns or even, perhaps, a roseate tern in the churning masses was a mug's game in these conditions. 

I dropped back down to the lake and walked back, passing a family of carrion crows too intent on their beachcombing to be bothered by me. I headed for the station and thence home. For once after going out birdwatching the legs weren't tired but the rest of me felt like it had had a rough going over.

Tree lupins, Crosby Marine Park 

Salford Quays

Pied wagtail 

The plan had been to get the morning's errands done and dusted then shoot over to Southport to try and catch the Temminck's stints at Marshside. Temminck's stints are another of those blink and you miss them Spring passage specialities. As it was, I got so wet and chilled to the marrow running the errands I decided what I really needed was a pot of tea and my lunch. 

It hadn't been an altogether duff morning. The fledgling starlings are being coaxed from their nests in the eaves of rooftops, their parents standing on nearby telegraph poles singing and beating their wings to encourage them. They may come to regret it: there were already plenty of adult starlings zipping round each with two noisy begging fledglings almost hanging from their tail tips. I think some of the baby spadgers will be out in the next few days, I've stocked up in fat balls for the feeders in the fruit bushes (the adults get a free meal in return for stuffing the youngsters full of aphids). Both blue tits are coming in together, a sure sign that the nest they've got a few doors down have hungry mouths to feed. Both the baby dunnocks and baby robins have learned not to make themselves conspicuous.

The rain abated though it was still blowing a hooley and cold with it so I went over to the Trafford Centre and played bus station bingo. The 126 was in but I didn't want to revisit the Leigh area so soon so I got the next bus, the 250, and walked up from Sir Matt Busby Way to Wharfside to see what was on the Ship Canal and the quays.

Herring gull 

The raft of about a dozen large gulls was a far cry from the Winter roosts. There were equal numbers of lesser black-backs and herring gulls, none of the herring gulls were adults. 

Canada goose

I walked along the wharfside past the tram stop towards Pomona, accompanied part of the way by a very smart male pied wagtail. There wasn't much on the water along this stretch except a couple of cormorants. Half a dozen cormorants were loafing across a litter barrier drying their wings. Over on the muddy beach on Cotton Quays a pair of Canada geese pottered about with their goslings in the company of a flock of pigeons, a moorhen and half a dozen second-calendar-year black-headed gulls, most of which hasn't fully moulted into their brown hoods. A little further on another Canada goose was still sitting on her nest.

Three cormorants were fishing as a team under the Trafford Road Bridge. There must be a huge fish population in this stretch of the canal to support the year-round population of cormorants. A mute swan dozed on the opposite bank and a song thrush sang from the bankside bushes, which was unexpected.

Herring gulls 

I walked up to Pomona, which was dead quiet, and walked my way back. Which was easier said than done with the wind in my face. Half a dozen lesser black-backs had settled on Cotton Quays and the geese were keeping their goslings well away from them. One of the gulls bobbing on the water just away from the group intrigued me. It was a third-calendar-year bird with a distinctly paler grey saddle than the other birds. From the views I was getting I wasn't sure if it was an unusually pale lesser black-back, a yellow-legged gull or a trick of the light so I kept it in view as I walked along until it swam behind one of the concrete islands. I quickened my pace to try and catch it on the other side and swore as most of the lesser black-backs flew off to join the raft in the bay, taking the bird with them. Ordinarily this would be good news as an open wing view would clinch the identification but they were off an away before I got past the island and I just got a confusion of tail-end views.

Lesser black-backs and herring gulls 

My hopes that I might pick the gull up again as I walked towards the Millennium Bridge were confounded as the tour boat sailed through the raft and the gulls dispersed, leaving a few young herring gulls and the three fishing cormorants in its wake.

Grey wagtail 

I crossed the Millennium Bridge and was pleased to find a pair of grey wagtails busily feeding on the dockside without much care about the passersby. They've become a settled part of the canalside life of Salford and Manchester city centre.

Salford Quays 

New Moss Wood

New Moss Wood 

It had been a busy day but I needed some exercise so i got the train to Irlam for an hour or so's walk round New Moss Wood.

It was a sunny and cool afternoon. The afternoon had been cooler than the morning as the wind shifted and got an extra bite in so I put on my big coat and felt overdressed waiting for the train in the sunshine. I walked down Liverpool Road and then through the allotments to Moss Road, congratulating myself on the choice of coat whenever a cloud passed over the sun or I stepped into the shadows. Blackbirds and robins sang all the way, goldfinches and a coal tit sang in the allotments, chiffchaffs and a song thrush from the railway embankment.

I'm finding that little stretch of path between Moss Road and the bridge over the old Altrincham line very productive lately. Wrens, dunnocks and robins sang in the hedgerows, greenfinches and a willow warbler sang in the trees and a bramble patch near the bridge had its whitethroat. I struggled to see many of them and suspect I missed hordes of titmice silently going about their business.

Moss Road 

The fields along Moss Road were green and largely birdless. A carrion crow walked across the middle of the turf field opposite the wood and cock pheasants called at each other from the corners. Way out further a couple of lapwings scuttled about a field margin. It was a stark contrast to the houses and gardens at the bottom of the road where house sparrows and goldfinches bustled about the hedges and blackbirds, robins and woodpigeons sang.

Walking into New Moss Wood 

Walking into the wood I passed two singing whitethroats, one taking to the air for a solo before disappearing back into the brambles. The wood was lively with song but the singers were largely invisible in the trees or else fleeting glimpses of tiny figures dashing between cover. Even the robins were coy. Blackbirds, robins, blackcaps and wrens provided most of the songscape, one song thrush singing from the depths of the oak and alder canopy while another hunted in the bracken. Chiffchaffs outnumbered the willow warblers about two to one, they tending to favour the rides in the centre of the wood, the willow warblers preferring the margins and the patches of wet birch and willow. The rides also provided some sheltered open space where red admirals could flutter about the nettles without being blown into the next county. 

New Moss Wood 

New Moss Wood: one of the rides

The gusty wind was making itself known in the wood and I found myself constantly reacting to leaves suddenly shaking in the breeze. Titmice bounced through the trees, more of than not I was only finding them when twigs were bending against the general trend though every so often a pair of great tits would see me off their patch. A pair of long-tailed tits I found by pure dumb luck as they ferried beakfuls of food through some hawthorns. The nuthatch and the great spotted woodpecker that took exception to me were noises off from somewhere in the canopy.

Woodland edge

One of the dragonfly ponds 

Returning to Moss Road I accidentally disturbed a couple of linnets feeding by the roadside. A little further on the only swallow of the day was swooping low over the turf field.

I walked into Cadishead for the bus to the Trafford Centre. The urban songscape was rich and full: blackbirds, robins, wrens, dunnocks, collared doves and goldfinches, even a couple of cock sparrows joined in. Starlings whizzed to and from as they had mouths to feed in eaves. While I waited for the bus three second-calendar-year black-headed gulls circled low over the rooftops of Liverpool Road and I couldn't work out what they were after. I'll never know, the bus finally turned up before I found out.

Longendale Trail

Wren

It was another bright, if cool, Spring day and I felt disinclined to do anything with it. After getting the morning errands done I spent the next couple of hours maunging round the house and garden reviewing the status of Things To Be Done, with no intention of doing anything about any of them except beat myself about the head for having not done them, I decided that I really should get out, get some fresh air and get my head in a better place. I didn't want a route march or anything giving me the opportunity to give myself a good nagging so I got the trains for a walk up and down the stretch of the Longendale Trail between Hadfield Station and the bench above Valehouse Reservoir, which is both undemanding and picturesque and offers that kind of birdwatching which offers it to you on a plate but only if your head's not too busy to notice.

Joining the Longendale Trail 

Walking down the cutting at the start of the trail the trees and the pathside were busy with robins and blackbirds, many of which barely moved by to allow the passage of dogs and walkers. Chaffinches, chiffchaffs, dunnocks and wrens sang from the trees by the trail and somewhere in the background a song thrush was yelling its lungs out. Magpies and woodpigeons clambered about in the canopies, starlings and jackdaws ferried food from fields to rooftops, and the rustlings about in bushes were blue tits, goldfinches and house sparrows. It was that full-on Springtime experience where the snapshot is empty greenery and the movie a crowd scene.

Blackcaps and great tits joined the songscape and some of the robins decided they'd best get a song or two in, in between scowling at passersby for disturbing a rummage. As I approached the end of the cuttings and more open country willow warblers and greenfinches joined the chorus.

Bottoms Reservoir 

Rabbit

The fields above Bottoms Reservoir were peppered with jackdaws and starlings, and a flock of Canada geese grazed at one end. A handful of rooks pottered about between the gamboling lambs. I was surprised to find a couple of siskins in the treetops. Titmice bounced through the hawthorn hedgerows, a pair of long-tailed tits found a magpie and gave it a damned good mobbing until it got fed up and went to join the jackdaws. And as ever the trackside rabbits paid little heed to passersby unless their dogs were off the lead.

Long-tailed tit

Long-tailed tit

Stitchwort

The hathorn hedges sounded busy

I couldn't see the lapwings and pheasants calling from the hillside or the curlew and oystercatchers somewhere in the valley. I did spot the passing swallows. A whitethroat quietly disappeared into the hawthorn it had been singing from. I always expect more whitethroats than I find along here. Despite the cool weather a green-veined white fluttered about the trackside cowslips.

The Longendale Trail 

I sat down and listened to a coal tit and a dunnock trying to out-sing a wren and a blackbird while blue tits bounced about in the tree next to the bench. A couple of black-headed gulls flew down the valley towards Bottoms Reservoir. I'd bought myself a quarter of midget gems from the shop by the station so I could give myself a reward for getting to my destination but somebody had eaten them along the way. It didn't matter, it was all very pleasant anyway.

Destination sit-down

On the walk back most of the Canada geese had moved down onto Bottoms Reservoir to join the mallards and moorhens already pottering about down there. The songscape ran on unabated, I'm taking them in while I can, it's going to be a devil of a job finding any of the birds when it all goes quiet for the post-breeding moult.

Chaffinch

I'd dawdled a bit and had had to wait a couple of minutes while a couple of blackbirds finished their punch-up on the path but I still managed to get the train back to Manchester, just, and headed off home with the demons back in their boxes for a bit.

Cowslips

Leigh bumper bundle

Buzzard, Byrom Hall Wood

I really wasn't in the mood for doing anything at all today, it was even an effort to make a pot of tea. I saw the reports of an osprey at Pennington Flash. I wondered if I should go and see if I could see it. According the the reports the bird was at the West End in the area where Hey Brook runs into the flash. I could walk in from Slag Lane along the path past Mossley Hall then onto Byrom Lane to the sailing club, a very different type of walk to the usual one around the hides on the East side. After passing through the woodland edge by Slag Lane there's a long stretch of meadows and reedbeds which give views of the flash between the trees. If the osprey was in one of the trees along here or fishing over this end of the flash I might have a chance of seeing it. It would be hard luck if it was in the trees on the private land around Mossley Hall though in that case I might strike lucky from near the sailing club. And I had every expectation I'd be unlucky anyway, there hadn't been any reports of it since early doors and it had probably moved on.

So off I went.

I got the 588 to Plank Lane, got off just after the canal bridge and walked down Slag Lane and joined the path opposite the recycling centre. Robins, blackbirds, blackcaps and chiffchaffs sang by the roadside and willow warblers and song thrushes could be heard in the trees beyond. There were plenty more in the trees as I walked down the path.

The path to Mossley Hall 

The path crossed Hey Brook and I soon came out into more open meadow landscape and I caught my first sight of the flash, largely hidden by trees and reeds. The songs of a couple of reed warblers drifted over the meadows. A sedge warbler belted out a number from a bramble patch next to the path. Some angry words from passing jackdaws were directed at a sparrowhawk rising on the thermals above the meadows.

Pennington Flash 

I wasn't seeing anything larger than a woodpigeon in any of the trees by the flash, and not many of they. A few lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls flew by and jackdaws passed to and from overhead. I reached a large meadow with an open view of the flash and had a scan round. I couldn't see anything in any of the trees on either side of the flash. On the water there were mute swans by the near bank with pairs of gadwalls and tufted ducks. Further out, pairs of great crested grebes cruised about. A moment's flutter as a large white shape flew in was caused by a young great black-back.

Meadows by Pennington Flash 

I spent a few minutes allowing myself to be diverted by the orange tip butterflies skittering about the meadow before returning to the search. If I had no joy I'd walk on to the sailing club and try my luck. A few herring gulls flew past to join the raft of large gulls I could see in the distance. A heron flew into the mouth of the brook. Then I noticed something large rising above the rucks over on the other side of the flash, a big pale bird doing lazy circles as it rose on the thermals. I had a look through my binoculars fully expecting it to be another great black-back. It wasn't. Even at this distance it was obviously the osprey, luckily for me there's not a right lot looks like an osprey that isnt one. It came closer to the flash as it circled and I had a moment's hope it might be coming this way but it headed back and it soon became apparent that the circles were drifting over towards Plank Lane. I kept watching, just in case, but it kept its distance. Ah well, I'd had my bit of luck and seen it.

As I stood wondering what I wanted to do next a bird shot over at treetop height. "That's a dark-looking kestrel," said the boy birdwatcher looking at a hobby through his binoculars. In my defence, I'd had my surprise of the day with the osprey and wasn't expecting a bonus bird within a few minutes. Luckily it was a big open area so the bird kept in view long enough for the penny to drop.

Helmeted guineafowl

I'd learned my lesson and was on as close to an alert as I can manage these days as I followed the path past Mossley Hall and on to Byrom Lane. I was watching swallows zinging about when I realised there was a soft chuckling noise coming from the field behind me. The flock of guineafowl were almost hidden in the grass.

On reaching Byrom Lane I decided not to head for the sailing club then walk round to St Helens Road. Instead, I turned and walked back to Slag Lane, crossed the road and walked through Byrom Hall Wood into Lowton. 

Heading for Byrom Hall Wood 

It was a nice day and a nice walk. Swallows flitted about the farm buildings at Byrom Hall. A buzzard called as it floated by and off towards Abram. Three lapwings looked to.be headed for Pennington Flash. Greenfinches and whitethroats sang in the fields and hedgerows. Blackcaps, robins, chiffchaffs, willow warblers, blackbirds and wrens sang in the woods. Titmice quietly bounced through the trees, goldfinches twittered, and young magpies rattled at parents that expected them to get their own dinners by now.

Byrom Hall Wood 

A nice gnarly oak

Thinking I was taking a route straight through to Wigan Road I took a meandering footpath that seemed to go round the back of every house on the estate. I eventually got to Wigan Road and didn't have long to wait for the 610 and the start of the long journey home.