Greater Manchester mini bundle

Nightjar, Kenworthy Woods

A nightjar appeared in Kenworthy Woods last night and was still there this morning so I postponed today's plans, got the train into town and the 101 bus to Merseybank and was soon walking into the woods.

Kenworthy Woods 

The quickest way to the location was to walk along the cleared path under the power lines, something I generally avoid partly due to superstition and partly because in damp weather they give me a headache. Luckily it wasn't damp today, the air felt heavy but the sun shone bright.

Wrens and robins sang in the clearing. I joined the access road through the wood where a mixed tit flock — long-tailed tits, blue tits, great tits and chiffchaffs — bounced through the hedgerows, migrant hawkers patrolled the road and speckled woods, large whites and red admirals fluttered about the verges.

The nightjar had been reported just off the road but I didn't realise just how close until I saw the small knot of birdwatchers just behind the hedge by the lay-by. I joined them and was very pleasantly surprised to see the bird almost immediately, asleep on a branch. The almost white end of a broken branch provided a perfect landmark for keeping the bird in view as I shuffled round a bit for a better view. The front end of the bird reminded me of a wryneck with its broken patterns of brown, black and grey barring. The rest of the bird looked surprisingly pale and a bit fluffy, especially when it fidgeted in its sleep, which suggests it might be a young bird. For the past couple of years I've been keeping an eye out for nightjars in one of their summering areas, with no luck. I'm hoping this has opened the gates for future sightings, if not it was a bonny bird.

The orchard

I had an errand to do for my father so I took my leave and walked up to the orchard to do some 'phone calls. This involved having a row with my father which I hope I would have handled better had I not been so tired. I wasn't really in the mood for the rest of the walk through the woods though I did it anyway. Parakeets, magpies and woodpigeons clattered about in the trees, carrion crows fossicked about in clearings, there were more mixed tit flocks, robins and wrens and a raven cronked as it flew down the river. Give nature its due, it was trying its best.

Kenworthy Woods 

Alexandra Park 

I decided to give up and go home. Alexandra Park was along the way so I had a dawdle through it to try and get my head in a safer place. A family of mistle thrushes rattled their way about the parkland and there were more parakeets in the trees. Pigeons and black-headed gulls crowded one end of the lake while mallards, coots, tufted ducks and mute swans drifted about the other. I couldn't see any moorhens and there weren't many Canada geese about either. The pigeons and black-headed gulls made up the numbers.

Tufted duck

Tufted duck

There were a dispiriting lot of terrapins sunning themselves on logs.

Terrapins

Waiting for th ebus home from Stretford I noticed that even though it was warm and sunny the house martins had gone.

Late on I decided I needed another walk so I got the 256 into Flixton and had a twilight walk through Wellacre Wood with my bat detector. Robins, wrens and magpies settled down for the night as the light faded. A noctule bat, big and with direct flight, skimmed over the hedgerow by the path. 

Wellacre Wood 

Horses dozed in a field by the wood and I could see at least four bats flitting about the hedgerow. I positioned myself by the gate so I could see the bats against the darkening sky, the bats didn't mind and flew around me. I couldn't recognise them by sight, they were smaller than the noctule but considerably bigger than any pipistrelle. I put the bat detector to work and found that most of the calls were around the 25-27mhz range, though oddly I could actually hear some of them myself. Those notes were as high as the highest bits of a goldcrest's song but more abrupt and a lot more solid. The bat detector translated the higher notes into a "blap" noise not unlike somebody flicking stretched out plastic film with their finger. There aren't many bats calling at that frequency, mercifully, and these weren't noctules. Serotine bats don't get this far North and don't sound like that so they could only have been Leisler's bats, which are uncommon but do occur in Greater Manchester.

I walked back in the dark and struck lucky with the bus home. The walk had done some good and it had been a successful bat hunt.

Cob Kiln Wood

The bridge over Old Eeas Brook 

I had caught up with my sleep, which always leaves me feeling like human wreckage and put paid to the ambitious plans for the day. I'll have to start getting up when I'm awake at seven instead of drifting off to sleep and having anxiety dreams about work, which I left ten years ago but still seem to carry the scars. In an effort to blow away the cobwebs I had another quiet woodland walk, this time through Cob Kiln Wood.

For a change I walked down Cob Kiln Lane from Urmston town centre. House martins hawked low over the corner of Church Road, the low cloud and brisk wind providing a plentiful supply of midges.

Cob Kiln Lane 

It was a very quiet walk down the lane. Magpies, jackdaws and carrion crows rummaged about in the paddocks. A flock of woodpigeons fed in a fallow field. A great tit chunnered in the hedgerow. I took some photos of where a goldcrest had been. And that was it. I carried on down to the river, a handful of lesser black-backs flying overhead.

The River Mersey passing over the weir
No dippers or wagtails today.

The pigeons usually to be found fussing about the road bridge over the river were notably absent though one flew high overhead. Downstream a heron and a couple of mallards loafed on the shoals at the bend of the river and a couple of moorhens under the Lancashire bank. A cormorant fished midstream, coming upstream to the weir then drifting back down before starting upstream again. Presumably any fish stunned by tumbling over the weir will be easy pickings.

A short walk over the river and down a drizzly Banky Lane was quiet save a singing robin. I didn't fancy walking through Banky Meadow and messing about with buses home so I turned back, crossed the river and down the lane into Cob Kiln Wood.

The electricity pylon clearing 

Jays silently disappeared into cover and goldfinches and starlings twittered in the treetops as I walked through the electricity pylon clearing. I told myself whatever the provocation I was not going to complain about the rain yet. The rain of the past couple of weeks had had its magic effect: the clearing was carpeted with a fresh new growth of comfrey leaves.

Comfrey

As I walked into the trees I was aware of robins, great tits and dunnocks and every so often I'd hear or see one or other of them. A calling nuthatch and the squeak of chiffchaffs was a lot more definite. As I passed the edge by a grazing field red admirals settled into the brambles and a buzzard disturbed the woodpigeons in the trees beyond. I lingered by the bridge over Old Eeas Brook in the hopes a couple of great tits might become a mixed tit flock but it wasn't to be. I headed home in the rain.

Cob Kiln Wood 

Mersey Valley

Mute swans. Sale Water Park

It wasn't a bad class of day. There was plenty of cloud about and there was still that cool Northwest wind but the sun came out mid-morning and seemed happy to linger. I wasn't in the mood for trusting trains so I spent the afternoon wandering round our bit of the Mersey Valley.

Passing through Stretford town centre I was heartened to see a handful of house martins still hawking over the bus stop. 

Ivy Green 

As I walked down Hawthorn Lane there were lots of grey squirrels rummaging about in the verges with magpies and woodpigeons. I turned into Ivy Green and almost immediately bumped into a goldcrest fidgeting about in an elderberry bush. Great tits and blue tits also moved through the trees but if it was a mixed tit flock it was a very loosely coordinated one. Speckled woods and large whites fluttered about the margins of the wood and more large whites fluttered about the open grass. A sparrowhawk circled lazily above the treetops.

Ivy Green 

Chorlton Ees 

I'd been surprised not to be seeing or hearing any parakeets so far on the walk. This changed in Chorlton Ees where they were heard but not seen in the treetops. Robins sang, jays screeched, a buzzard was very vocal, magpies and woodpigeons clattered about and carrion crows strutted about the open stretches. Red admirals joined the large whites and speckled woods fluttering through the bramble patches. A mixed tit flock moved through the hawthorns and oaks by the hay meadow, a family of long-tailed tits providing the stitching together lacking in Ivy Green. Somewhere in the meadow two cock pheasants were in pitched battle, possibly over the hen pheasant perched in a hawthorn bush eating berries.

Chorlton Ees 

River Mersey 

The walk by the river to Jackson's Boat would have been quiet but for the crows, magpies and parakeets. A couple of mallards dabbled by the bank and a grey wagtail fidgeted about. A migrant hawker patrolled the apple trees up top, the only dragonfly of the day.

Barrow Brook was running high. Robins sang, wrens tutted, a chiffchaff squeaked. I bumped into another goldcrest and a family of long-tailed tits bounced through the undergrowth. The light streamed through the trees and cast grey highlights fringed caramel brown and pale blue on the muddy water of the brook.

Barrow Brook 

A herd of mute swans drifted about the eastern end of the lake in Sale Water Park. There were more over by the slipway with a gang of mallards, black-headed gulls, coots and Canada geese while cormorants stood aloof on the pontoons. The arrival of small children with bags of food had the herd charging over to join the others. As I walked round I bumped into great tits and long-tailed tits and chiffchaffs squeaked from bushes but they all seemed to be independent units. I was struck by the absence of large gulls on the lake. It was too early for the small roost on here but there's usually a handful of lesser black-backs kicking around.

Sale Water Park 

It was difficult to see through the willow scrub in front of the hide on Broad Ees Dole. Teals, gadwalls and mallards dabbled in the high water, moorhens pottered about the shallows over the islands, dabchicks dived in the channels in between. As I emerged from the hide a heron flew by and a grey wagtail flew in onto the bank of the lake. A couple of people were having a swim in the lake and I felt cold on their behalf. A dozen teals dabbled about on the Teal Pool, this is the time of year when it earns its name.

Teal Pool 

I debated which way to go and decided to head into Priory Gardens for a change. As I walked past this end of the lake I noticed the great crested grebe with half a wing preening out in the water. A great survivor and a reminder that if it wasn't for blokes with guns and a habit of polluting waterways there'd be quite a few flightless waterfowl in this world.

Priory Gardens was also in a quiet mood. This time of year there's no need for small birds to call attention to themselves and there's plenty of cover. Robins sang, chiffchaffs squeaked and blue tits flitted between the trees. I emerged and struck lucky with the 248 bus. It was a roundabout way home.

Pennington Flash

Herring gull

It waa a cool, damp sort of a day with the sun spending the morning offering tantalising glimpses like the worst of online scam advertising. I headed over to Pennington Flash to see what was about, with half a mind that I'd be having to duck into hides to dodge a few showers along the way.

The way the extensive roadworks are effecting bus services makes the connection with the 126 at the Trafford Centre more miss than hit lately so I got the 132 and changed at Sale Lane for the V1 to Leigh. The 588 to Plank Lane was sitting at the bus station and I decided it would be rude not to. This also meant that I could do a woodland walk and have a look at the grasslands of the rucks North of the flash along the way.

Walking in from Slag Lane 

Brown roll-rim

I think this is a false blusher

The mixed tit flock bouncing through the trees by the path from Slag Lane included long-tailed tits, blue tits and chiffchaffs but, curiously. no great tits. I couldn't work out if the willow warbler squeaking in a sallow was part of the flock or a bystander. The one in the willows at the edge of the rucks was definitely on its own, as were the chiffchaffs dotted about the willows on the bank of the flash. A raft of coots and a few mallards drifted about at this Eastern end of the flash.

Heather

There was green showing on the rucks after the recent rains

It was a bit late in the day to see much passage migration over the rucks but I hoped one or two birds might have stopped for a breather. Apparently not, it looked as if they had all taken advantage of the Northwest tail wind to speed them on their way. A couple of pairs of stock doves flew by. A family of carrion crows and half a dozen magpies rummaged about on the ground and a male kestrel hovered low overhead. I wondered if much eats wild carrot seed, if they do they're in for a banquet this year.

Pennington Flash 

I turned back to the flash where there were more rafts of coots. Great crested grebes congregated by the end of the spit and mute swans dabbled by the banks. It took a while to find any tufted ducks, they were all over on the West end of the flash. I looked in vain for any terns or little gulls, a couple of the latter passed through yesterday. Black-headed gulls chased to and fro, cormorants fished in a line and a raft of herring gulls and lesser black-backs out in the middle was accompanied by a juvenile great black-back. 

Now the grim, grey weather comes upon us it's time for me to be fourth- and fifth-guessing myself with the identification of young gulls. The huge juvenile great black-back was obvious enough and in principle the young herring gulls and lesser black-backs ought to pose no problem. Herring gulls being generally more blocky and lesser black-backs generally being more attenuated, with longer wings accounts for the majority of them. A dark and slim herring gull will have me doubting myself, similarly a stocky lesser black-back. The key difference that's useful to me is the tertial feathers, that bunch of feathers hiding the bases of the black primaries. If they're uniformly dark it's a lesser black-back, if not it's a herring gull. A textbook juvenile herring gull has barred tertials, real life gulls don't read textbooks and quite often it's just broken patterning of light on dark.

Migrant hawkers patrolled the paths, sometimes hunting in pairs. Chiffchaffs squeaked, wrens tutted, robins sang and along this stretch the mixed tit flocks included great tits.

At the Tom Edmondson Hide 

A quick look through the reeds at Ramsdales Hide Found me a lot of teal and a couple of drake shovelers still in eclipse plumage. A few pairs of gadwalls dabbled on the pool on the Tom Edmondson Hide as the rain started in earnest. 

The spit from the F.W.Horrocks Hide 

It's remarkable how much the flash has filled up so quickly after a couple of weeks of showers. The spit at the F.W.Horrocks Hide was a lot thinner than on my last visit. A crowd of lapwings at the end flew off towards the fields to the West, a few more sat at the water's edge and preened. Mallards, coots and gadwalls loafed near the hide, cormorants and herring gulls loafed out at the end of the spit.

Lapwing, coot, mallards and tufted ducks
The tuftie is doing that roll onto its back to scratch its belly thing that has me thinking "Lesser scaup?" in bad light.

The rain was persisting down. I decided to call it quits. The car park was crowded with black-headed gulls, mallards and Canada geese. One oystercatcher stood on a rock offshore, another rummaged for scraps under the trees.

Oystercatcher 

The tally had come to 48, which by any objective measure wasn't bad in the circumstances. A sparrowhawk circling over Wigan bus station and two swallows hurtling across a field in Smallbrook got me to the fifty mark and I felt better for no good reason whatsoever. It had been a good walk until the rain hit and there were plenty of birds about.

New Moss Wood

New Moss Wood 

It was another cool day with the sun trying it's best to make up for a strong Northwest breeze..I was struggling to be bothered with much today so I dragged myself out to New Moss Wood for a bit of exercise. 

The clouds rolled in as I got the train to Irlam then walked past the allotments where robins sang claim to their Winter territories and large whites and speckled woods fluttered about the hedgerow. After yesterday's experience I took my time and kept an eye and ear cocked for anything unusual, just in case. A couple of long-tailed tits flew down into the brambles by my head to see what I was about.

More robins sang along the trackside path on the other side of Moss Road. Blue tits flitted through the trees and one of the hawthorn bushes was busy with blackbirds. Why only that one I don't know.

By Moss Road 

A handful of swallows hawked high over the fields North of the railway. A bird scarer did its job and over a hundred woodpigeons flew out of the line of Lombardy poplars by the farmsteads.

New Moss Wood 

The difference a bit of rain makes! New Moss Wood was lush and green. Robins sang, wrens scolded, goldfinches twittered in the treetops. A migrant hawker patrolled the crossing of two of the rides. 

I took a different route round to my usual one and was rewarded with a large mixed tit flock flying across the ride. The birds flew over in ones and twos, fidgeting in the willows to my right before dashing over into those on my left. The blue tits were silent, some of the great tits called before flying over, the long-tailed tits tutted to keep in contact with the group. Juvenile chiffchaffs chased each other round the houses before flitting across, juvenile willow warblers kept to themselves. The ochreous tones of the chiffchaffs and the lemon yellow tones of the willow warblers made it easy to distinguish between the two. I struggled with less colourful birds with could have been one, the other or, indeed, neither. Who knows what I might have been missing in those mad dashes between canopies.

A brown hawker zipped down the ride, did a quick circuit of me and went on its way. The sun reappeared and took the chill off the air but not enough to persuade any butterflies into activity. I had to wait for two cock pheasants to finish their fight before I could get back into Moss Road.

Pheasants

Scout Moor from Moss Road

The walk back to the station was quieter, the robins taking a break. Lesser black-backs flew North, presumably to the roost on Pennington Flash. A jay screeched in the trackside trees by the allotments and the long-tailed tits came and had another look at me as I walked by.

A couple of great tits called from the trees as I wanted for the train. When I got back to Humphrey Park the magpies and parakeets were having another barney.

Highfield Country Park

Spotted flycatcher 

The overnight rains abated, it was a cool, grey, windy day with intermittent showers that topped up the puddles but hardly wet the pavements. I'd shaken off the effects of going back onto the antihistamines, after spending the past week accumulating the effects of having stopped taking them now Summer's over, so I headed for the Manchester-Stockport border to see if I could add black redstart to the year list 

A black redstart had been reported yesterday on the allotments on the Southern edge of Highfield Country Park, between Levenshulme, Reddish and Heaton Chapel. It was reported again this lunchtime so I changed my plans and got the 150 from the Trafford Centre to Levenshulme Station. Highfield Country Park's been on my to-do list a while so I decided that I'd take the opportunity for a nosy round. I walked down Stockport Road from the station and joined the Fallowfield Loop on Crayfield Road, thence into the country park.

Fallowfield Loop

Highfield Country Park 

It wasn't an extensive exploration, I know I missed the waterfall in the Northwest of the park, but I had a twitch on. The half of the park I did see was very pleasant, nothing spectacularly unusual, just parkland gone to woodland and none the worse for that. Robins ticked in the undergrowth, a mixed tit flock was almost silent. So too, and very unusually, were the magpies fossicking about on the verges of the path. Woodpigeons and carrion crows clattered about in the treetops and I couldn't see where the great spotted woodpecker was calling from.

Nelstrop Road 
Walking down to the allotments 

I got to the allotments and a chap stopped me to ask what everyone had been looking for. I explained that a black redstart had been seen and showed him a picture of one. The allotments looked to have been largely abandoned and now in a process of slowly being recultivated. Consequently there was a lot of cover for a small ground-feeding bird. I slowly walked up and down Nelstrop Road the length of the allotments four times, stopped a couple of times to be asked by passersby what was about. I was having no luck finding a black redstart. A pair of wrens rummaged about in the hedgerows obscuring part of the allotments. A robin had me on a false alarm. Starlings, goldfinches and greenfinches passed overhead, jackdaws and magpies rummaged about in the field by the allotments. But no black redstart.

I kept finding myself being drawn to three likely places, a horse dung heap in a corner by the allotments, some overgrown tyres and oddments of shelves and relics of tables by a fence, and a compost heap. But no redstart. I checked the buses. I was five minutes walk away from the stops for the number seven between Stockport and Ashton-under-Lyne and two minutes away from missing them in either direction and having thirty minutes to wait for the next. I might as well spend twenty or so of them trying to find my quarry. A flurry of pigeons and a rattling of magpies made me look up as a peregrine shot by at rooftop height and headed into the country park.

I was joined by a couple more birdwatchers, a lady and a gent, and we made a concerted effort for the redstart. They'd wandered up the road a bit and I was dawdling after them when something flitted into a hawthorn by my side. And turned out to be a spotted flycatcher. I'd pretty much written those off my year list so I was rather pleased even if it wouldn't let me get a photo of it. I let on to the others and it went missing for five minutes before they found it back where I first saw it. I eventually got photos. 

Spotted flycatcher 

A passing buzzard was ignored by the pigeons and magpies. We were joined by another birdwatcher and the lady found the black redstart. And it immediately disappeared down onto the ground by some old tyres. Black redstarts love the abandoned detritus of human occupation. It then played hide and seek for ten minutes. 

I checked the buses, I'd just missed the bus to Stockport but the Ashton bus was running late so I could get that.  At which point the black redstart bobbed up onto the tyres and started striking poses before moving onto some bits of wood and doing similar. I took a few record shots, congratulated the others and wished them luck then headed for the bus. Which I caught without any problem. 

Black redstart 

Black redstart 

The plan was to connect with the 150 back home from Gorton Shopping Centre, there'd be a ten minute wait. In the event it was a fifty minute wait but I didn't let that take the gloss off a good afternoon's birdwatching.

Wellacre Country Park

Chiffchaff, Jack Lane

I'm occasionally asked why I don't do my birdwatching at dawn, which can be very productive even outside the breeding season with its dawn chorus. The plain fact is that dawn's usually when I'm finally getting to sleep, which is bad enough at Midsummer but this time of year is a dead nuisance. After two nights running where I heard the 0722 train arrive at the station before I dropped off I was all for lolling about drinking too much tea and not doing any housework but eventually I had to admit I'll soon be spending all my time moaning about the weather so I'd best make use of a nice day while it was on offer.

Meanwhile, in the back garden, I'd filled the bird feeders yesterday but only the blue tits and great tits were taking advantage. The house sparrows have been keeping a very low profile, in fact I've hardly seen any of them down our road all week. Perhaps they're keeping out of the way of the turf war between the magpies and parakeets. The magpies are very disgruntled that the parakeets are using their roost tree and are making so much noise about it and are making almost as much noise to show their displeasure.

Wellacre Wood 

I got the 256 into Flixton and walked into Wellacre Wood. Not much was calling attention to itself save the parakeets in the treetops and the robins singing to establish their Winter territories. A mixed tit flock by the school included a dozen great tits.

Normal service resumed as soon as possible 

It was reassuring to see puddles on the paths by the fields even though I'll spend all Winter cursing them. A few goldfinches twittered in the hawthorns, carrion crows and magpies rummaged about in the fields and a robin sang from the hedgerow. The swallows and martins have moved on.

Chiffchaff

A Cetti's warbler sang at the Jack Lane end of the nature reserve. I had to dodge the Southern hawkers patrolling the path and for some reason the big hoverflies found me attractive. The large mixed tit flock in the reedbeds included half a dozen very vocal juvenile chiffchaffs and a blackcap.

Woodpigeon

Dutton's Pond was quiet, I only saw a moorhen and a coot.

Robins sang in the bushes on Green Lane. The mixed tit flock moved quietly through the willows by the path to Carrington Road, the great tits making themselves conspicuous, the blue tits, long-tailed tits and a chiffchaff keeping under cover.

A chiffchaff squeaked and goldfinches twittered in the elderberry bushes by the river on Carrington Road. There was nothing on the river at Flixton Bridge. A quiet end to a pleasant walk.