Mosses

Chat Moss 

It was a sunny and cloudy day, the wind having picked up again. I'm going to try not to use the word "quiet," or any of its synonyms, for the rest of this week. It might not be easy. I'd annoyed myself by spending all morning telling myself I should go for a walk but having no idea where to go so come lunchtime I got the train to Irlam and headed up Astley Road.

The house sparrows were notably absent in the hedgerows and the turf fields were entirely empty, no so much as a woodpigeon. A few woodpigeons were having the last of the hawthorn berries, an occasional lesser black-back or carrion crows flew over. The small birds were keeping quietly under cover out of the wind, except the long-tailed tits flitting across the road as they swapped hedgerows and a couple of blackbirds breaking cover as I walked past. A male kestrel glided over, letting the wind do all the work.

Astley Road

Turf fields looking deceptively empty

It was similar, at first, after I'd crossed the motorway. Woodpigeons, black-headed gulls and carrion crows passed by overhead. A couple of meadow pipits flew by. Sheep were grazing the turf by the motorway accompanied by a couple of carrion crows. Further on the turf fields looked empty until I found a couple of dozen pied wagtails and a flock of linnets in a corner near the road. A couple of dozen starlings fidgeted between the fields and the telegraph wires. And in the field behind there were about fifty black-headed gulls with a few herring gulls and lesser black-backs. It actually didn't look that many on the ground but a passing female-type marsh harrier put them all up. She headed over towards Twelve Yards Road.

Approaching Four Lanes End 

The road had been busy. I was standing in the verge just before Four Lanes End waiting for three cars and two vans to negotiate passing each other when I spotted a couple of mistle thrushes in one of the trees and a couple of cock pheasants squabbling in the field opposite. It was sunny enough for a common darter to be hunting in the cover of the hedgerow out of the wind. A wren came to tell me to beggar off.

I scanned the fields at Four Lanes End to see what was about and at first it was all woodpigeons. A couple of fields North of Lavender Lane jackdaws were getting restless, breaking the treeline as they circled about. A couple of carrion crows had the fidgets, too. Just as I'd decided the disturbance was probably some farming activity two buzzards rose up, circled low over the field then drifted off in separate directions. Buzzards aren't much of a threat to corvids but they still make them fidgety.

Chat Moss 

Milky cone cup

There were yet more woodpigeons as I walked down Twelve Yards Road. Great tits and robins ticked in the hedgerows and half a dozen goldfinches flew past. A young kestrel headed over towards Lavender Lane. It wasn't that late in the afternoon but there was still the sound of small birds going to roost in the thickly planted willows in one of the fields. A little further on a couple of swallows flew low over the road, heading South. A migrant hawker patrolled the wayside. And family parties of long-tailed tits skipped between willows and hawthorn bushes along the way. I was keeping an optimistic eye out for barn owls, I found a hovering kestrel.

Kestrel

Twelve Yards Road 

Walking down Cutnook Lane the birdlife was hinted at more than seen. A blackbird muttering softly in deep bracken, contact calls of long-tailed tits, great tits and chaffinches, a dunnock somewhere in a bramble, goldfinches high in beech canopies, a mallard on the fishery. It came as a relief to find a flock of black-headed gulls in the paddocks by the motorway with pied wagtails and goldfinches flitting about the horses' hooves.

Cutnook Lane 

I had ten minutes to wait for the next 100 to the Trafford Centre where I bought a new pair of boots on my way home.

Glum

It was a heavy grey day after a cool, clear night but mercifully the wind had died down. I'd spent the night writing, the ideas were clicking so I wasn't watching the clock until I noticed it was ten to five, so come daylight my get up and go pretty much matched the weather. Out in the garden the spadgers and titmice had emptied the suet feeders; the squirrels and magpies, but mostly the magpies, had done for the suet balls; and I put bird food back on the shopping list. The last lot of sunflower seeds I looked at in the shop a few months back was thin and bitty, not much more meat in them than safflowers, I hope I can find better when I go out for some now.

I decided I'd go over to Etherow Country Park to take photos of mandarin ducks in the gloom. My train into town was late, when I got in I looked at the state of the trains, I decided against. There was a Saturday afternoon feel to the services today.

On the way home I had a walk through Alexandra Park. The parakeets were coming into roost, at least seventy-five of them on my count. On the pond, mallards, coots got their suppers, tufted ducks and Canada geese drifted about the open water and a couple of mute swans loafed on the bank. The pigeons seemed to have decided on an early night.

By the time I got the bus home the gloom of the day had faded into proper twilight. This is the month where the shorter days really become noticeable.

Pennington Flash

Moorhens

The cold wind continued to have its sport, bringing a couple of common gulls briefly to the school playing field and a crowd of spadgers sidled through the bushes in the back garden to the suet feeders. Errands done, I had a cup of tea while I decided where to go for a walk, bearing in mind that it was a Saturday and very windy. I decided it would be either Amberswood or Pennington Flash. I walked through the park to see if would be any more productive than yesterday — fewer woodpigeons but a blackbird made itself known and a skein of pink-footed geese passed overhead — and got the bus to the Trafford Centre where the 126 was sitting waiting for me. Pennington Flash it was, then.

Walking in from St Helens Road 

The walk in from St Helens Road was quiet, even the magpies seemed subdued. Apparent small bird noises were the creaks and cracks of willows in the wind and the falling of leaves and twigs.

Tufted ducks and coots

It was blowing a hooley on the flash and most of the waterfowl were hugging the car park. Rafts of tufted ducks and coots drifted just offshore, the mallards and black-headed gulls tended to keep to the bank, or else joined the Canada geese mugging for scraps. A few cormorants and great crested grebes fished midwater, a small raft of mostly herring gulls with a few lesser black-backs sat over by the sailing club and a herd of mute swans hugged the far bank.

The spit 

Sitting in the F.W.Horrocks Hide was a bracing experience and to look at the spit you would have sworn the tide was coming in. All the action was at the far end: cormorants, lapwings and herring gulls loafed at the end of the spit; mallards, shovelers and teals loafed on the sides; more cormorants, great crested grebes, tufted ducks, coots and dabchicks drifted about on the water. A little egret flew over the flash and looked to be heading for the golf course.

Gadwalls

There was a lot of amorous quacking from the gadwalls at the Tom Edmondson Hide. A few shovelers preened in the reeds while dabchicks and moorhens bustled about.

Dabchick and shoveler

I didn't linger long at Ramsdales, a few teals and shovelers were dabbling about but the water was too high for any waders to be wander about.

Walking round to the Charlie Owen Hide 

The walk up to the canal and round to the Charlie Owen Hide was punctuated by furtive mixed tit flocks sidling through the trees. Usually I'd be picking up the quiet contact calls of long-tailed tits then notice the shadows of great tits and blue tits flitting through the trees. Every so often a great tit would show itself on a bare branch then vanish into cover.

In contrast, the mixed tit flock by the Charlie Owen Hide was very conspicuous. Long-tailed tits flitted to and fro across the path, great tits and blue tits bounced about on twigs. One of the goldcrests in the flock was a showy and excitable male whose crest was a bright butter-yellow and gold triangle on the top of his head nearly all the time he flitted about in a hawthorn by the path avoiding having his photo taken.

Rain stopped play

Over on the golf course the mallards had abandoned the brook and were dabbling about in the huge puddles on the green.

Teals, shovelers and moorhen

The pool at the Charlie Owen Hide was busy with shovelers, gadwalls, teals, coots and dabchicks and a couple of mallards drifted in after I'd arrived. Over in one corner a cormorant was sat on a branch drying its wings, in another a heron was lurking at the edge of the reeds.

The Bunting Hide was quiet, a couple of great tits and a dunnock were having a rummage round. I lingered in the hopes that a willow tit might pass through but no joy. I'm having a bad year for both willow tits and marsh tits, I'm hoping that's just my bad fieldcraft.

At Pengy's Hide 

An eclipse drake wigeon mingled with the mallards and gadwalls at Pengy's Hide, a family of mute swans were busy feeding on the other side.

Oystercatcher and mallard

As I walked back through the car park to St Helens Road an oystercatcher made an appearance amongst the dozing mallards. Oystercatchers are pretty long-lived, the oldest British one was over forty years old, so this could be the same bird coming back every Winter.

Pennington Flash 

Wharfside

Black-headed gulls and yellow-legged gull 

The weather was more of the same. I wasn't convinced I could be bothered with it. In the back garden the great tits and blue tits chased the squirrel off the suet feeder and blackbirds were feasting on Pyracantha berries, having left the rowan berries to the magpies. There was no sign of house sparrows.

Lostock Park 

A wander round my local patch was devastatingly quiet, the woodpigeons and magpies are nearly back up to numbers but couldn't compensate for single counts (one of each) of great tit, robin and goldfinch. And the absence of anything else.

Magpie playing at being Barnacle Bill on the Ship Canal

I drifted over to Wharfside to see what was on the Ship Canal. Judging by the detritus flowing downstream there must have been a shipwreck up the Irwell, probably Doctor Syn and his minions mucking about with the dark lanterns on Trinity Way. In the changing light every shade of grey on the gulls was suspect, scudding clouds and random pokes of sunlight had them running up and down the Kodak grey scale like mice in a piano. Black-headed gulls could only be black-headed gulls, the herring gulls, particularly the subadult birds sometimes needed a second look. When I found the usual yellow-legged gull by Clipper Quay I persuaded myself it was a trick of the light and walked on. Walking back later it gave me a fighting chance by drifting ashore and walking thigh-deep into the shallows. As the water lapped about its legs and the light came and went the colour of the legs alternated between greyish brown and mustard yellow giving me more than ample opportunity to second-guess myself.

Black-headed gulls and yellow-legged gull 

Black-headed gulls, coots and yellow-legged gull 

Black-headed gulls, yellow-legged gull, moorhen and lesser black-backs 

Herring gulls and black-headed gulls 
The small-looking black-headed gull at the front was definitely a black-headed gull in the field but I had to look twice when I looked at the photo at home. For a moment I wondered if I'd missed a Bonaparte's gull. I hadn't, it's a black-headed gull. 

Mallards, coots, moorhens and mute swans pottered about. There was a conspicuous lack of Canada geese. The cormorants were mostly juveniles and all the ones I could be sure of were of the continental sinensis subspecies.

Cormorant, an adult
That square corner of the yellow gular patch is typical of sinensis.

Before I came out I put my big coat on against the wind. And forgot to put my cap in my pocket. I completed the walk back to the Imperial War Museum and decided I was bored of the rain and went home.

Wellacre Country Park

Walking up Green Hill 

We're in the between times of birdwatching where the Summer visitors have moved on, most of the Winter visitors have yet to arrive and the residents have no particular need to call attention to themselves. The spectacle of scarce and rare passage migrants popping up in odd places tends to distract from that everyday reality. Early Autumn is a time where you have to work hard to see familiar faces while you're on the q.v. for absolutely anything to turn up. A case in point: the only house sparrows I saw all day were a couple in the back garden first thing.

It was one of those days where you could see a change of seasons by turning your head, accompanied by a chilly Northwest wind. I decided I'd have that look around Wellacre Country Park I didn't do yesterday.

Parakeets screeched in the trees by the school while carrion crows, jackdaws and rooks called as they passed overhead. Magpies rummaged in the leaf litter and beech mast along Irlam Road and blackbirds rummaged in the undergrowth as I walked down the path into Wellacre Wood. I was sensing robins and great tits more often than I was hearing or seeing them and a singing wren was a comforting bit of solid reality.

Wellacre Country Park 

Swarms of sand martins and swallows were a half-remembered fantasy of another age a month ago. Carrion crows, magpies and woodpigeons thinly peppered the fields. Looking over towards Irlam Locks I could see a few black-headed gulls and pigeons, mallards called and a couple of pied wagtails flew in and joined the grazing horses.

Jack Lane Nature Reserve 

For the most part Jack Lane was tantalisingly quiet. Moorhens muttered softly in the reeds, great tits and robins quietly ticked in bushes, blackbirds and wrens slid silently into brambles. I relaxed and let myself be alert to the slightest noise and caught a couple of goldfinches moving through the treetops and a family of long-tailed tits bustling through hawthorn bushes. Then a Cetti's warbler erupted into song ten yards away in the reedbed. The long-tailed tits came over for a closer look at the jumping man.

A month ago this was a shallow pool

I was remarking to myself how dry the reedbeds were, just damp mud, when the clouds parted, the sun shone and it started raining. I have this gift.

Dutton's Pond 

Dutton's Pond looked picturesque, a moorhen and a pair of mallards pottered about.

As I walked up onto Green Hill and back down towards Carrington Road I was struck that nearly all the birdlife was passing by: carrion crows, jackdaws, magpies, woodpigeons and jays, even a chaffinch, were just passing by. Robins sang in the trees by the railway.

Green Hill 

A pair of mallards swam downstream on the Mersey as I walked into Flixton. I checked the time and struck lucky, I got the train home.

Mersey Valley

Black swan, Sale Water Park

After the giddying about of the past couple of days I thought I'd ground myself with a leisurely bit of local birdwatching. I decided to have a potter about Wellacre Country Park and got the 256 with every intention of doing so but the bus broke down at the next bus stop. The next bus in either direction was the 25 to Stockport so I got that, got off at the edge of Chorlton and walked down to Hawthorn Lane.

Hawthorn Lane 

It was a bright, sunny day and quite mild so long as you were in sheltered sunlight. The moment you stepped into the wind or shadow it was cold, I was dressed wrong for the weather at least every five minutes, I should have brought my raincoat for the extra layer. Magpies and ring-necked parakeets rattled and screeched in the trees. Robins sang in the undergrowth and though I was aware of a mixed tit flock somewhere close to hand I couldn't see any of them.

I had a bit more luck in Ivy Green, the great tits conspicuously objected to my walking past. Carrion crows, woodpigeons and jackdaws flew about the clearing.

Ivy Green 

Chorlton Ees 

Chorlton Ees was quiet save the magpies, parakeets and carrion crows. Dunnocks and wrens shuffled about in the brambles and a family of mistle thrushes were uncharacteristically quiet as they flew overhead. I walked through to the bend in the river where a young heron loafed by the bank with a couple of pairs of mallards.

More pairs of mallards drifted downstream as I walked up to Jackson's Boat. A flock of goldfinches flew into one of the big ash trees, woodpigeons clattered about in hawthorns and jays ferries acorns across the river. The parakeets were particularly noisy at Jackson's Boat, even the crows couldn't make themselves heard.

Barrow Brook 

It was very much quieter as I walked along Barrow Brook. Were it not for the occasional tick from a robin or the nuthatch calling from a willow tree I would have been ready to swear that me and the squirrels had the place to myself. Right at the end, just before the brook goes into the lake at Sale Water Park, an adult heron lurked in the reeds.

Black swan

A black swan had joined the herd of mute swans on the lake. There are at least two pairs of black swans kicking about the Northwest and I know one pair bred at Marshside the other year. It isn't often I see one on its own. Most of the mute swans just accepted it as one of the gang but one cob wasn't at all sure and drifted over that way in full fighting trim a few times just to let it know who was boss. In the process it demonstrated that the black swan is both a smaller and slimmer bird, the neck being particularly wiry.

Mute swan

Even taking into account this cob mute swan's aggressively fluffed up, he's a much bigger and less slender bird than the black swan

There was a canoeing class going on so the mallards and coots were crowded out and only a couple of Canada geese loafed on the slipway. The cormorants stayed in the water well out of the way, as did a great crested grebe and its full-grown youngster. There was a small crowd of black-headed gulls but for once not a single large gull. A mixed tit flock in the bushes by the electricity pylon included at least one chiffchaff.

Goosanders and mallards on Broad Ees Dole 

The hide pool on Broad Ees Dole was busy with ducks, mostly teal and mallard. They were accompanied by five redhead goosanders, four drake shovelers and two pairs of gadwalls. Moorhens pottered about the islands and it took me ages to spot the two juvenile dabchicks hiding in plain sight amongst the teals.

Teal Pool 

Appropriately enough, there were half a dozen teals on the Teal Pool.

River Mersey 
Stretford Ees, on the Lancashire side, on the left and Sale Water Park on the Cheshire side on the right.

I walked back to Stretford via a very quiet Stretford Ees. Dunnocks, wrens and great tits silently fidgeted through the brambles, robins sang, parakeets screeched and a family of carrion crows called to each other as they passed overhead.

Fairhaven Lake

Long-tailed duck

Long-tailed duck was one of the notable absentees from my year list at the beginning of the year so when a drake turned up at Fairhaven Lake I thought I'd best take the opportunity to have a look. The other attraction was that it was an adult drake, I've not seen one in Summer plumage before.

I got the Blackpool South train from Preston and got off at Andsell and Fairhaven. It's a short walk to the lake from the station. Along the way I bumped into the East Lancs birdwatcher I was chatting to the other week at Crossens Marsh and we exchanged tales of pallid harriers. He told me the long-tailed duck was showing well on the far side of the island on the lake.

Granny's Bay

It was a grey mizzly lunchtime. I got to the car park and had a quick scan over this side of the lake. There were a few coots and mallards on the water nearby and black-headed gulls fussed about. A few mute swans were over on the other side. Robins and great tits ticked in the bushes as people went by.

Shelducks 

It was lowish tide on what the map informs me to my delight is Granny's Bay. I walked along the path on the outside edge of the car park, scanning round to see what was about. There were hundreds of shelducks dabbling on the mud. There weren't many less redshanks and a lot of them were closer to hand, fidgeting their way through the pools and puddles with a couple of bar-tailed godwits. Way out, cormorants dried their wings on mudbanks and half a dozen wigeons flew in and settled on the mud. 

Pied wagtail 

Very much closer to hand, a couple of pied wagtails ran up and down the steps down from the car park working their way through the dancing clouds of midges.

Pied wagtail 

There were plenty of black-headed gulls about but just a handful of herring gulls and they were all passing by. I almost didn't notice a common gull in the gloom, luckily for me it decided it needed a good stretch and the fingerless mitt wingtips made me spot it.

Black-headed gulls 

I dropped down to the lakeside and started looking for the long-tailed duck. There were plenty of dozing mallards and squabbling moorhens on the bank of the island but I wasn't seeing the long-tailed duck. I actually walked past it and it was only when I looked back that I noticed it. It was fast asleep by a beached buoy looking very much like a small pile of stones.

Long-tailed duck 

The high contrast pattern of dark, chocolate brown and white broke up the shape of the duck, its having its head firmly tucked into its back feathers completed the illusion. And it was very different to any long-tailed duck plumage I'd seen before.

Long-tailed duck 

I lingered in the hopes it might wake up and I'd get a proper view of its head. The nearest I got was when there was a bit of excitement amongst the mallards. The head shifted, showing a flash of white behind a half-open eye. Then it went back to sleep again.

Long-tailed duck 
A commotion amongst the mallards almost woke him up.

Fairhaven Lake and the Fylde Spitfire Memorial 

It had started raining, that fine Autumn rain that wets your hands and races up your arm to your elbows. I decided I'd call it a day. I had my long-tailed duck on my year list and had a look at a very unfamiliar plumage. On my way back I had another scan around the bay without adding to the day's tally.

Shelducks 

I'd missed to train to Blackpool South and would have best part of an hour to wait for the next. I entertained thoughts of bussing across the Fylde and having a look at Fleetwood and the River Eyre but could already smell the wet sheep tang of my cap. The Preston train was due in ten minutes, I called it quits.