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.

Marshside and Crossens

Ruff

Marshside's having one of its golden patches for waders and it's getting its share of a very good passage of wood sandpipers so I headed that way to try my luck.

The weather was officially "changeable" but started cool with light cloud and got warmer. I thought the Canada geese had abandoned their nest on Pomona Dock so I was pleasantly surprised to see the goose with three goslings as the train chugged into town.

The train passed the woodpigeons, rooks and jackdaws of West Lancashire without incident and I didn't have long to wait for the bus into Marshside. It was a bright and sunny, but still cool, lunchtime when I arrived. The spadgers and starlings of Marshside were frantically busy with mouths to feed and the first couple of house martins were hawking over the rooftops.

Lapwing

The marshes looked deceptively quiet. An illusion quickly ruined by the arrival of flocks of starlings and house sparrows and a pair of lapwings taking exception to a passing jogger. The regular networked layout of greylags, Canada geese and lapwings had been disrupted, there were few greylags and lapwings dotted about, the greylags that were around were mostly in small groups, there just weren't many lapwings. The very few pairs of shelducks took some finding, I saw more shovelers in flight than on the ground and the crowds of wigeon and teal of just a few weeks ago were a vanished memory. 

Sutton's Marsh 

A reed warbler sang from a tiny patch of reeds and somehow remained invisible, all I could find to see was a couple of wrens twitching about in the depths. Over the road, goldfinches and whitethroats sang from the remaining patches of hawthorn hedge.

Junction Pool 

First stop was the Junction Pool where a few mallards and a drake wigeon puttered about and a handful of redshanks and ruffs fossicked about in the mud. A smaller, slimmer bird could have been a wood sandpiper but as a silhouette against dark, wet mud it wasn't a safe identification. 

I moved on to the Halfway Viewpoint for a better look, with the sun behind me. I found that the ruffs and reeves (female ruffs) easily outnumbered the redshanks, most were hidden from view from the junction by muddy ridges as they rummaged about in a couple of channels. The ruffs were also quite dark individuals, which wouldn't have helped with the light behind them. The russet ruff on one of them would have showed up a treat had he fluffed it up. Two had black ruffs, an all-dark bird disappeared into the shadows, the other was betrayed by his bright white horns.

I was struggling to find the potential wood sandpiper, the change in angle of view foxed me for a bit and the group of waders in question had dispersed. My eye kept being caught by redshanks and reeves as they skittered about. Then a smaller, slimmer wader dashed across a small pool and into some tall grass and I had me a wood sandpiper on the year list. There might have been two but I wasn't confident of the brief glimpse I had of the second candidate.

The path by Marine Drive 

The high bank between the marsh and the path to Nels Hide was smothered in a blue haze of alkanet. I noticed that some of the Duke of Argyll's tea trees that had been cut down were bouncing back, a very active sedge warbler sang from one, always keeping a few twigs and branches between itself and the would-be photographer.

Reeve (left) and ruffs

Even before I'd sat down at Nels Hide I'd noticed the ruffs on the mud immediately in front. A fluffed-up dandy of a ginger-ruffed male stood out a mile, a darker bird with his ruff flattened down most of the time was less conspicuous. The ginger lad sported himself about a lot and every so often would dash over to a passing reeve to show off a bit. The reeves played hard to get.

Redshank (top), reeve (left) and ruffs

Ruff

Ruff

Ruff

Ruff

Ruff

Ruff

Ruff

Reeve and ruff
The ruff noticed the reeve walking his way so he ran over and started displaying to her. 

Ruff
The darker bird only erected his ruff once the ginger bird had flown off.

Ruffs come in a bewildering variety of plumages and not all the males have ruffs, a tiny percentage look like reeves. There was a nice mixture peppered about the marsh between Junction Pool and Nels Hide.

Ruff, one of the dark birds from the Halfway Viewpoint 

Ruff
I don't know if this bird is still moulting into breeding plumage or has completed it and doesn't have a ruff.

Besides the ruffs there were a few redshanks, coots and mallards had fluffy youngsters in tow, and a couple of dozen herring gulls were having a wash and brush-up. I was feeling so perked-up by the views of ruffs that I started scanning the marsh between Nels Hide and Hesketh Road for spoonbills, ibises and who-knows-what and it serves me damned well right I didn't find any. There's no need to be greedy.

Spindle tree

Walking back in the warming sun I noticed the spindle trees by Nels Hide were in full flower, hopefully they'll be spectacular in Autumn. On the way over the skylarks and meadow pipits had been quietly flitting about the outer marsh, on the way back the sunshine seemed to coax some of the skylarks into song and meadow pipits fussed about on the bank by the path, vanishing into the alkanets whenever I passed too close by, just leaving a short, sharp call behind them.

Alkanet

Pollen beetle on burnet rose

On the way over to Sandgrounders I noticed the vetchlings and dewberries on the verge were in flower and I started to have half an eye out for orchids. And I tell my father off for being impatient. The burnet roses were already in full bloom and were busy with insects.

Black-headed gulls, moorhen and tufted ducks

The pool by Sandgrounders was noisy with nesting black-headed gulls. A few tufted ducks, coots and gadwalls loafed about, avocets and redshanks paddled round the edges and Canada geese dozed on the banks. It was more of the same at Sandgrounders, with a few mallard families and pairs of shovelers also cruising about and a handful of black-tailed godwits rummaging about on the marsh. Over on Polly's Pool about a couple of dozen black-tailed godwits lined up in a roost.

I didn't stop long and carried on walking by Marine Drive. Over on the outer marsh all the geese were Canada geese and a dozen little egrets shrimped in the bigger pool. A female marsh harrier drifted over from the marsh towards the road then veered off into the estuary. The sun brought out the butterflies and I found myself tiptoeing round peacocks, small tortoiseshells and wall browns that were basking on the path. I also found myself keeping having to apologise to the linnets and goldfinches disturbed as I passed too close to the dandelion patches they were feeding in.

By Marine Drive 

Walking along the bund by Crossens Inner Marsh 

I crossed over to have a look at Crossens Outer Marsh from McCarthy's. It looked deserted, the dark bands of thousands of geese replaced by grey hazes of scores of woodpigeons. There were meadow pipits, skylarks and starlings out there feeding in the grass, small flocks erupting when a kestrel hovered over or a buzzard passed overhead.

I wondered if I had the legs for the walk round to Banks Marsh to see if the American golden plover reported yesterday was still about. Regretfully I had to admit I hadn't. I crossed back over and walked back into Marshside along the bund. A couple of swallows hawking over the marsh and water treatment works were, hopefully, a precursor to the Summer crowds.

Avocet chicks

A lapwing was having a running spat with a couple of avocets. At first I thought the avocets had wandered too close to the lapwings' chicks. It turned out to be the other way round: the lapwing had been warned off by the avocets and it was having a tantrum about it.

Avocet and chicks

I had a sit down on the bench at the boundary between Marshside and Crossens Inner Marsh and surveyed the scene as house sparrows, starlings and dunnocks rummaged about the brambles nearby. Neither marsh looked crowded though there were plenty of birds about. On Crossens lapwings, redshanks and avocets paddled about while mallards, shovelers and a mute swan cruised the pools and channels. On Marshside Canada geese and lapwings were peppered about the nearby marsh and the black-headed gull colony was heard as much as seen. It was an easy and uneventful journey home after a very nice walk.

Avocet

Bickershaw Country Park

Canada goslings

Unlike yesterday, this morning I only caught the woodpigeon solo in the dawn chorus and I overslept through the alarm, which was a nuisance as I had errands to run before doing anything else. Errands begat errands, which was another nuisance as the oversleeping made me feel like a sandbagged tortoise and every joint in my body had an unfavourable opinion about the change in the weather. I shelved all plans, got a pot of tea down me and wondered what I was going to do with the afternoon. 

I decided that gardening wasn't an option as the latest new arrival stepped onto the scene. One of the adult robins escorted a youngster into the rose bushes and left it there to wait to be fed. The young dunnock was deep in the gooseberry bush and there was a young blackbird around somewhere, the female was ferrying beakfuls of worms down into the holly bush. I thought I'd best leave them in peace.

Juvenile robin

I went over to the Trafford Centre and played bus station bingo with a view to going somewhere for half an hour or so's quiet potter about. The 126 came in first so I headed off to Leigh. I didn't want to revisit Pennington Flash so soon, so where to go? For a few giddy moments I thought I could get off in Astley and walk down through Astley Moss and Chat Moss into Irlam. For a few giddy moments. It's a fair old drag when I've got the energy to do it. Then I remembered I hadn't been to Bickershaw Country Park yet this year. It's surrounded on three sides by fairly frequent bus services so if the worst came to the worst I could nibble about a corner then retreat to a bus stop.

I got the 609 and got off at Garvin Jones Grove, the stop  next to the entrance on the North side of the country park by Diggle Flash. A chaffinch in a tree by the bus stop took exception even before I'd stepped off and it escorted me out of the car park, leaving me once I started down the steps to the flash.

Diggle Flash

The trees and bushes were filled with songbirds and I even managed to see some of the willow warblers and robins. As I approached Diggle Flash, more a big pond than a lake, whitethroats and a reed warbler joined the chorus. I peered over one of the anglers' gates to see what was on the water and the reed warbler came over to check me out before deciding I was nothing to see and resuming singing. A small raft of tufted ducks and two pairs of great crested grebes drifted over the flash, the mallards and coots were more active, though not to any obvious purpose.

Bickershaw Country Park 

A bit of hawthorn

I wandered on my way. I don't have an instinctive feel for Bickershaw Country Park and can rarely manage to go the same way twice or find particular spots I'm looking for. I need to visit far more often. The hedgerows were busy with singing blackcaps and willow warblers, blackbirds sang in the trees or fossicked about in the verges and titmice were in stealth ninja mode, breaking cover rarely to flit between trees and bushes. Goldfinches were in as close as they get to stealth mode, they can't resist twittering when they break cover. I was hoping to hear grasshopper warblers out in the open but had no luck today though there were more than plenty of whitethroats. Overhead there was a steady traffic of carrion crows, jackdaws and lesser black-backs, the gulls tending to wheel high in the air before going wherever they were off to.

Alder beetles
Some of the alder saplings had doilies rather than leaves.

Bickershaw Country Park 

As I approached Fir Tree Flash reed buntings joined the songscape.

Reed bunting

The sun started to poke through the clouds as I arrived at Fir Tree Flash. A mute swan sat on her nest and pairs of shovelers chugged about the drowned willows. Further along, pairs of mallards dozed on the bank and Canada geese made a fearful row over on the other side of the flash. As far as I could determine, the commotion was caused by passing geese getting too close to sitting geese and the partners rushing in to support and egg on the combatants. In contrast, the coots were being unusually well-behaved dutiful parents.

Fir Tree Flash 

I had a chat with a couple of ladies who'd been watching a pair of great crested grebes feeding their young. I caught up with the grebes later on, the youngsters were keeping to the cover of the reeds and coming out to be fed. Every so often the male would take exception to one or other passerby, bark like a small terrier and the youngsters disappeared into the reeds with barely a ripple. A pair of Canada geese paraded their goslings along the bankside.

Canada goslings

The sun came out and so did the large whites and orange tip butterflies. Half a dozen swifts chased round each other high overhead. I wandered round the rucks South of the flash, adding the Cetti's warbler singing in a waterside bramble to the day's tally and hearing lots more blackcaps, chiffchaffs and willow warblers along the way.

Bickershaw Country Park 

The intention was to drift over towards Plank Lane but I got distracted by possibly hearing a grasshopper warbler over a rise. When I got there I couldn't hear anything because the police helicopter was doing a circuit of the area and passed overhead a few times. I followed the path I was on into into Firs Park then I had a quick potter about the park and the lake before getting the bus into Hindley Green and thence the 132 back to the Trafford Centre.

Firs Park 

Urban birdwatching: Liverpool

Cormorant, Speke Hall

Lying awake, I'd noted the progression of the dawn chorus from the robin starting to sing at the darkest hour, soon joined by the blackbird, the magpie that chattered through as the first grey light was showing, the woodpigeon singing at daybreak as the carrion crows woke up, then the wren and the blackcap kicking in and the robin shortly joining them and the blackcap didn't stop for hours. At five past eight I was still wide awake and told myself I might as well get up, it was one of those nights without sleep and the next thing I knew it was half ten. I'll probably sleep through the dawn chorus come Dawn Chorus Day.

Given the circumstances I decided I'd have an easy day of it and try and avoid much Bank Holiday frivolity. The great-tailed grackle is still singing at Speke Hall and I'm still irritated at having such a fleeting look at it so I headed thataway.

Speke Hall 

I got the train to Liverpool South Parkway, got the 80a to Speke and walked down to Speke Hall. There were lots of small birds about in the parkland and precious few to be seen. Blackcaps, wrens and robins sang from the hedgerows, blackbirds and song thrushes sang from trees, whitethroats and greenfinches sang from hawthorn bushes, and I was seeing woodpigeons and magpies.

There was a Bank Holiday event going on at Speke Hall so I kept my distance. 

Walking round the pond

I took advantage of the results of the unusually dry and windy April weather to do a circuit of the pond, in ordinary circumstances one ten-yard stretch of the circumference would be impassible. Moorhens, mallards and a pair of coots pottered about. The coots were making such a production of their not nesting that I took it for granted they had a nest somewhere. I'd just completed the trickiest part of the circuit — limboing under a fallen tree then crossing a muddy rill by walking along a stick toe to heel — when I spotted the nest and the chicks under the tree I was leaning against to get my balance on a muddy slope.

Coot with nestlings

I left the pond and walked out onto the meadows. The grackle had been reported as singing from a copse in the corner of the meadow nearest the roads. This is all new territory for me, I wasn't sure whether or not the copse was part of the field margin. The best bet seemed to be to do a circuit of the meadow following the margin and see if I could hear or see anything unusual.

The meadows

There were plenty of singing blackbirds and whitethroats and the rattling of magpies. Every so often the soundscape would be punctuated by passing carrion crows, gulls or, a couple of times, ravens. Black figures flying across the treeline were jackdaws. As I approached one corner I realised that some of the trees in the next corner stood out like a little island in the meadow. I was also starting to hear noises that weren't quite magpie or blackbird. 

The copse in question 

As I got nearer to that corner, and that copse, something in the trees let out an oddly metallic whoop. This was followed by a sporadic squeaks, chatters, croaks and whoops. Some of the sounds were similar to the blackbirds and magpies in the background, some reminded me of starlings and mynah birds. It took a while to actually see the bird, it was sitting midway up a mostly bare tree surrounded by trees in full leaf. Irnoically, I got the best view of it as I was walking back and the bird jumped up near the top of the tree. I contemplated walking back then realised that even if the bird didn't take objection there'd be no point as the lay of the land meant that the closer I got the more the grackle would be hidden by leaves. I'd seen the bird and heard it, and for a lot longer than my last fleeting vision, so I was content.

Great-tailed grackle
The least-worst of a lot of bad photos.

Walking back past the pond a cormorant was sat by the bank drying its wings not really a lot fussed as I passed by. On the other side of the pond a couple of ravens were tormenting a couple of carrion crows in the treetops until they all got bored with it and flew off in separate directions.

Cormorant

It wasn't yet teatime and I'd bought a Saveaway ticket so I thought I'd drift around the outskirts of Liverpool visiting places I've not been in yonks. The 82a was the next bus to come along so I got that as far as Sefton Park and had a bit of a wander.

Sefton Park 

The soundscape of Liverpudlian municipal parks is nigh identical to those in Greater Manchester, including the background screech of ring-necked parakeets. Blackbirds, blackcaps, chiffchaffs, robins, wrens and song thrushes sang, titmice quietly fossicked about in the undergrowth while magpies and woodpigeons clattered about. Canada geese, mallards and coots cruised about on the pond, herring gulls and lesser black-backs elbowed the waterfowl out of the way and scrabbled for food thrown for the birds.

Sefton Park 

The plan was to walk through the park and get the 68 which goes to Bootle and get off at one of the train stations along the way. The plan was. There were no buses stopping round that end because of diversions so I ended up walking up Greenbank Road to get a bus into Liverpool from Smithdown Road. I popped into Greenbank Park along the way to have a look at more Canada geese, mallards, coots and moorhens and hear more blackbirds, blackcaps and robins.

Greenbank Park 

I struck lucky in Liverpool and only had to wait twenty minutes for the train straight back home, which saved on a lot of messing about. I'd had a nice trip out, I'd revisited a few places and the birdwatching was plenty good enough for a Bank Holiday Monday.