Mersey Valley

Heron, Broad Ees Dole

Spring passage is a process of overlapping waves, just as much as it's about the arrival of Summer visitors it's also about the departure of the ones staying over Winter. The last (probably) of our wintering common gulls massed on the school playing fields the other week and I was tripping over fieldfares the other day while chiffchaffs sang in trees.

Siskin

Siskins and redpolls are on the move, too, but less spectacularly and many of the ones round here aren't going very far, just from sheltered suburban woods and gardens to the Forestry Commission plantations on the Pennine hills. And some won't even be going that far, a few breed in the Mersey Valley though I haven't managed to bump into any of them. The siskin on the sunflower feeders this morning is almost certainly passing by, and a nice surprise it was, too. This is the fifth garden record, all in the first three months of the year and three of those in March. A redpoll would be a nice addition to the list, writes the boy who wants jam on it.

The crisp and sunny morning was scheduled to become a mild and sunny day so I decided on an amble along our bit of the Mersey Valley. The walking I've been doing this week (and the hot water bottle I've been putting on the knees when I get home) has got the joints working as they should, I ought to keep up the good work.

The house sparrows in the hedgerows by Newcroft Road were noisy enough to drown out the singing wrens. The trees by the car park by the garden centre were noisy with the songs of wrens, greenfinches, goldfinches and great tits. The screeching of parakeets rang out in the background. 

There was some evidence of recent rains.

Slightly damp underfoot
It's only once you tread on them you realise the palettes are floating.

Having reached terra slightly firmer I had a quick scan round. The buzzard was calling from the trees at the top of the mound and woodpigeons, carrion crows, jackdaws and lesser black-backs passed overhead. The female kestrel was hovering quite high above the slopes on this side, I saw no sign of the male today.

Kestrel

The songscape in the trees got more complicated: coal tit, chiffchaff, dunnocks, even a bullfinch joined in. Hearing the birds was one thing, seeing any of them was quite another as most of them kept deep in the willow woodland. A couple of blue tits obliged by bouncing through the birch scrub. My first comma butterfly of the year fluttered by and basked in the sun.

Comma

Stretford Meadows 

Magpies bounced about the open country, robins and wrens sang from hawthorn bushes and it wasn't until I was walking down the other side of the mound that I heard the first reed bunting. More birds passed overhead. A pair of stock doves flew by in tight formation, scarcely a hair's breadth between wingtips. I wondered where that mallard had come from and where it was going. The jackdaws seemed to be heading for the riverside rookery.

Stretford Meadows 
Looking back up the mound and remembering that this was the municipal tip I'm boggled by the amount of crap there must be under that grass.

Stretford Meadows 

Walking over to Stretford Ees 

Walking over to Stretford Ees the hedgerows were full of birdsong, a song thrush joining the others. A nuthatch called the alarm and I wondered if I was the culprit then everything went quiet. Singing was resumed once it was established the male sparrowhawk was intent on his display flight.

The pigeons were remarkably absent from under the tram viaduct. There's usually one or two around, even when they haven't got nests on the go.

The woods by Stretford Ees were quieter, just the robins, wrens and a couple of goldfinches sang though the parakeets carried on with their racket. A heron flew low over the tramway and over to the river. Two carrion crows escorted a raven off the premises. Crows escorting a sparrowhawk or buzzard will fly at their wingtips. Crows escorting a raven keep their distance. Ravens are more nimble in the air than crows and have a malicious sense of humour.

Not sure about this, it might be a brittlestem fungus or possibly one of the deceivers

We've had rain lately but I didn't think we'd had all that much so I was surprised that the river was running high and fast as I crossed over to Sale Water Park. A chap was putting his jet ski through its paces so there wasn't a lot on at this end of the lake.

Teal Pool 

There wasn't much on the Teal Pool on Broad Ees Dole, either, just a moorhen pottering about near the path and a mute swan in the reeds. It was a different story on the pool by the hide.

Tufted ducks and heron

The water was high but both islands were exposed. A heron loafed on the larger island with some teal and a pair of gadwalls. More teal and gadwalls dabbled in the pool with a pair of mallards. Behind them moorhens and dabchicks fussed about in the duckweed. Close to hand a pair of tufted ducks were feeding by the near bank. The heron decided to fly over and have a nosy round, a pair of Canada geese swam into view and took its place on the island. They swam off in a huff when the heron flew back. A chorus of whistling heralded the arrival of a buzzard on the far bank. I don't know what it was after, it wasn't ducks or water as it bounced off into the trees and out of sight.

Sale Water Park, with added jet ski 

The usual herd of mute swans were mugging for scraps on the slipway by the watersports centre in the company of a few Canada geese and mallards and a couple of coots. To my surprise nearly all the gulls were common gulls.

Coal tit

I stopped at the café to get a drink, on a childish whim I got a hot Vimto and was glad of it. Then I parked myself down to watch the bird feeders. I'd decided to haunt them in the hopes I might finally get a willow tit on the year list. Great tits were very much in evidence, coal tits and long-tailed tits barged in when they could, the blue tits seemed more interested in the insects in the nearby blackthorns.

On the way over a chap said he'd seen a very odd bird on the feeders. From his description I thought it might be a blue tit with a mite infestation. The bird appeared and confirmed my guess, and I could well see why he was puzzled. It had lost a lot of its head feathers, showing a lot of black skin, which is not uncommon with a mite infestation. This poor bird had it bad, it looked tatty all round and the yellows and greens of its plumage were greys and the blues a washed-out slaty grey. 

Forty minutes in a willow tit made an appearance, dashing in, grabbing a sunflower seed and retreating to cover to eat it. It bobbed out a couple more times but wasn't for having its photo taken. Which is a shame as it was in very bright breeding plumage, the underparts rich caramel cream and as big a pale wing panel as you could hope for identification purposes.

Hoof fungus

Barrow Brook 

I decided I'd make tracks for home. I'd have a long wait for the 248 to the Trafford Centre from Wythenshawe Road and I didn't want to be doing with trams on a Saturday so I'd have to walk up into Chorlton for the bus home. I walked down Barrow Brook to Jackson's Boat, the pathways fringed with wild garlic and the trees filled with the songs of robins and song thrushes.

Mandarin ducks

At Jackson's Boat I was surprised to hear a whistle from the river. I looked over and saw a pair of mandarin ducks steaming downstream. Another pair flew upstream as I watched them. I'm seeing mandarins a lot more often on the Mersey lately but I still don't expect to see them.

Hardy Farm 

I started walking through Hardy Farm. Chiffchaffs, robins and wrens sang and a great spotted woodpecker drummed in the treetops; blue tits and long-tailed tits bounced through the hawthorn bushes. I considered the long, boring drag up Hardy Lane to the bus stop on Barlow Moor Road. I could raise no enthusiasm for it. I took the muddy path into Chorlton Ees.

Chorlton Ees
Sadly, this path wasn't going my way. I crossed it between muddy tracks.

The songscape continued with great tits and blue tits joining in. A pair of bullfinches whistled sadly at each other in a cherry tree. A pair of jays silently bustled about in a sycamore tree. The parakeets wheeling about made enough noise for everyone.

Chorlton Ees 

It was late afternoon and the blackbirds joined in the singing in Ivy Green. Closer to the fringes house sparrows joined in, too. All tried to be heard over the parakeets and they were out-shouted by the unpaired carrion crows swaggering about on the green trying to woo the ladies.

Ivy Green 

The competition rolled over into Turn Moss, with dunnocks joining in the singing on Hawthorn Lane. I turned and walked up to Edge Lane for the bus home. I felt I deserved a pot of tea after five and a half hours' walk.

Roundhay Park

Iceland gull

Yesterday was a busy morning, then the gale force winds hit so it was today I went over to Leeds to see if I couldn't get a photo of the Iceland gull at Roundhay Park. In the event it would have been more remarkable if I couldn't, there were people taking selfies with it. It was a nice-looking subadult bird, the eye looked dark so I think it's a first-Winter bird but I may be mistaken.

I used one of my Delay Repay compensatory returns for the trip out to Leeds and the X98 bus to the gates of Roundhay Park. As the bus passed the junction with Easterly Road I took the two red kites circling Roundhay Road as a good omen. 

The path from the gate leads directly to the lake in next to no time. The trees were noisy with the songs of robins, great tits and woodpigeons and I could hear the black-headed gulls before I could see the lake.

We'd passed through umpteen bands of wind, rain, sun and overcast cloud on the train, if anything the bands of weather passed by more quickly as I walked around the park. Two passing showers of derisory drizzle passed by the time I got to the lake.

Roundhay Park 

I had a quick scan round to get my bearings. I'd seen a lot of photos of the Iceland gull perched on a wooden pile next to the café in the corner. I wouldn't be lucky enough to have it sat there waiting for me would I? I bloody would.

Iceland gull

By the time I'd wandered over to that corner the Iceland gull had decided to have a swim round with the other gulls and waterfowl. Most of the gulls were black-headed, there were a handful of herring gulls and a second-calendar-year common gull had me scratching my head for an embarrassing few minutes. Mind you, the more I learn about gulls the less confident I am in their identification and I'm starting to second-guess myself when I see black-headed gulls. Luckily for me the Iceland gull was both unmistakeable and very obliging.

Iceland gull

A herd of a couple of dozen mute swans was mugging for scraps by the café. A small raft of half a dozen tufted ducks drifted about in this corner and handful of goosanders dozed nearby. There were only a couple of coots, it's that time of year when the hordes of noisy, squabbling hooligans that have spent most of the year carpeting municipal ponds and lakes suddenly go quiet and invisible.

Iceland gull, goosanders and black-headed gull

The Iceland gull decided it was going to steam through the gap between a drake goosander and two ducks. A sharp peck from the drake goosander persuaded it otherwise.

Iceland gull, goosanders and black-headed gull

The wooden piles hadn't been completely deserted, cormorants dried their wings, a couple of herring gulls and a black-headed gull perched and loafed.

Herring gull and mute swans

Mute swans

Cormorant

Mute cygnet

I turned the corner around the café and when the piles were back in view there was the Iceland gull perched stop one of them. The bright, pale pink legs and feet were very conspicuous.

Iceland gull

Iceland gull

Iceland gull, herring gull, pigeons, mute swan and black-headed gull

Job done I carried on with a walk round the lake, which was very agreeable and the changeable weather added extra visual interest though I was extremely grateful the rain was only light and occasional. 

Roundhay Park 

The path by the lake

Roundhay Park 

Noisy groups of Canada geese cruised the open water and mallards skulked by the banks. Pairs of mute swans barked, grunted, squeaked and creaked as they picked fights with small rafts of mute swans apparently minding their own business and small rafts of mute swans picked fights with passing singletons and then with each other. Goosanders and tufted ducks cruised about steering clear of any mute swans and who can blame them.

Goosander

Great tits, robins, song thrushes and wrens sang in the surrounding trees and bushes and I noticed the ring-necked parakeets had made their way up here. Blue tits, long-tailed tits, siskins and goldfinches quietly foraged in the tops of the trees by the lake while moorhens and mallards fossicked about their roots.

Roundhay Castle 

The top end of the lake from Roundhay Castle 

I had a nosy at Roundhay Castle, a folly built in 1811, then took a path swinging through woodland back to the lake. My reaction time was too slow to catch the red kite flying low over the castle and out of sight over the woodlands. Singing chaffinches and calling nuthatches added to the songscape.

Greats Head Beck

I'd been disappointed not to find any grey wagtails on the becks running through the woods. As the path turned and met the lake there was a pair of them on the bankside.

Grey wagtail

Grey wagtail
This is the male.

Cormorants

A little further on a line of piles jutting out into the water was ornamented by loafing cormorants.

Roundhay Park 

Roundhay Park 

Now that I was walking into the sun it was staying out from behind the clouds more often than not, which made the scenery even more picturesque but made taking photos of the birds on the water that bit more tricky. I'd noticed a distinct lack of grebes on the walk up to Roundhay Castle, my faith in the scheme of things was restored by a pair of great crested grebes fishing on this side of the lake. A large perch, spiny fins all erect, took some careful manoeuvring before swallowing.

Great crested grebe and perch

Mute swans

The sunshine triggered even more punch-ups amongst the mute swans and the pairs indulging in slow, silent and stately courtship dances were insufficient to convince bystanders of the placidity of the mute swan. The pairs of Canada geese brawling by the dam had the grace not to pretend they weren't noisy hooligans. That incident was worth watching if only for the demonstration that a Canada goose can dive underwater as quickly and with as little disturbance to the water as any dabchick.

Walking over to Wetherby Road for the bus back to Leeds

I didn't have long to wait for the bus back to Leeds. While I was waiting I checked the options for the route home. As my ticket restricted me to Northern's train it turned out, paradoxically, that I'd get home quicker by going back to Manchester via Sheffield as that would make the necessary connection with my local train. And so I did. The red kites flying overhead just after the bus passed Roundhay Clock reassured me they hadn't been an hallucination on the way in.

The rookeries of the Derbyshire Peak District were in full swing as the sun set on a nicely successful day.

Longendale

Grey wagtail

Despite its being a fitfully sunny sort of a day I struggled to do anything with it. I wasn't short of plans and had mapped one out in the wee small hours when I couldn't sleep. My birdwatching map this year stops abruptly West of the Pennines, and I haven't gone East of Manchester City Centre yet this month. Roundhay Park, just outside Leeds, has been hosting an Iceland gull for a while. I thought I could go over and try and add it to the year list. Additionally, I have photos of Kumlein's gulls (not good ones, but photos) but not of nominate Iceland, it might be an opportunity to rectify this. Cometh the hour, cometh the man and I couldn't be bothered. Another day, perhaps.

Eventually I badgered myself into making an effort. It's harder to do the SW/NE cross-Greater Manchester journey these days now my local train doesn't stop at Deansgate anymore so I can't get the tram to Victoria Station. I decided I'd see how far round the clock I could get from the immediately available connections from Oxford Road and ended up getting the Stalybridge train from Salford Crescent. Stalybridge is ESE from home but it's a start. It wasn't the weather for getting the Carrbrook bus and visiting Stalybridge Country Park or do a bit of Reservoir watching up that way and there was an age to wait for the Oldham bus so I ended up getting the 237, getting off at Hadfield Station and having a short potter along the start of the Longendale Trail.

Hadfield was full of the calls of jackdaws, the twitterings of goldfinches and the songs of great tits and robins while woodpigeons galumphed in the treetops. I joined the trail and walked down the old railway cutting. Wrens churred in the undergrowth and magpies rattled as I walked by. A pair of grey wagtails were startled as I passed and flew into the tree next to the drain they were ferreting about in. The rain of debris from overhead was caused by the fires in the blood overtaking the squirrels.

Longendale Trail 

Passing the road bridge, greenfinches and goldfinches bustled through the trees and bushes on the sidings while chaffinches and bullfinches sang. A chiffchaff squeaked to tell everyone I was passing by but didn't venture into song. 

Peak Naze

Bottoms Reservoir 

I'd decided I was only going to go as far as Bottoms Reservoir, a decision confirmed when the path emerged into the open country above the reservoir and the wind started biting. About a hundred black-headed gulls loafed on the reservoir, dozens more passed overhead into the hills. Scanning around I could find a couple of pairs of goosanders but of the usual crowd of Canada geese not a sausage.

Above Bottoms Reservoir 

I walked back to the sound of singing robins, chaffinches, dunnocks and wrens. I spent the five minutes waiting for the train back being chaffed by blue tits and long-tailed tits for being on their station platform.