Pennington Flash

Cormorant

We're all made different, in my case the days where I can't be bothered going out for a walk are the days when I need to go out for a walk. Days like that I need the exercise and whatever sunlight's going. And so today I set out later than intended for Pennington Flash.

As I waited for the bus to Tyldesley at the Trafford Centre (I'd missed the Leigh bus) I was joined by Hoppy the pied wagtail who turns out to be female (last time I saw her she was still in juvenile plumage) and possessor of two legs. But no toes. Whether by disease or happenstance I don't know but she's lively enough.

Hoppy the pied wagtail objecting to having her photo taken

It was sunny when I arrived at Pennington Flash but was spitting with rain ten minutes later when I got to the car park. This cleared quickly but the weather stayed unsettled all afternoon.

The usual suspects were out on the water though there were a lot fewer large gulls than usual, just a couple of dozen lesser black-backs. The water was high: most of the spit by the Horrocks Hide was underwater. A couple of lapwings flew off just before I got to the hide (well, the side of the hide, they're all still closed), nothing else was on the spit, even the cormorants roosted higher up. A kingfisher shot by, the only one I saw this visit.

The spit by the Horrocks Hide was largely underwater

As I walked down the path between the Horrocks Hide and the Tom Edmondson Hide a small mixed tit flock flew across about ten yards ahead. A couple of great tits, some blue tits, some "probably blue tits," I didn't think much about it until I heard a strange call. A small green bird, larger than a goldcrest, smaller than a coal tit, disappeared into the bushes. Try as I might I couldn't find it again. If I hadn't heard it calling after it had disappeared I'd still be wondering if it was a yellow-browed warbler. That two syllable slightly metallic squeak clinched it for me. I'm still on the nursery slopes of my learning curve with this species, it's nice to get even an irritatingly fleeting encounter with one.

Buzzard

A little further on a buzzard sat in one of the willow trees disdaining even to acknowledge a carrion crow's attempts to mob it.

More mallards and shovelers on the pool opposite the Tom Edmondson Hide and a dozen gadwall on the pool by the hide. The water was too high at Ramsdales for anything but shovelers and teal, there was no exposed mud for any waders to use.

An uncooperative oystercatcher

I sat and had an ice cream in the company of the car park oystercatcher, which is as bad as the cat for not cooperating with having its picture taken.

On the way out I bumped into a slightly larger tit flock which included a couple of goldcrests.

A reluctant couple of hours' walk cheered me up a bit and brought the year list up to 172.

From Ramsdales Hide