Mersey Valley (may contain rant)

Teal, Broad Ees Dole

A milder, quieter sort of day coincided with one of the quietest days in the garden for a while. The blackcap has adopted the role of satellite to the "silver" family of house sparrows pretty much the same way as one of the blue tits did up to the middle of last month. Protection in numbers, I guess, and it gets to feed on the fat balls while the spadgers are busy demolishing sunflower seeds and suet pellets. I got a surprise when the blackcap started singing this morning, the earliest I've heard one sing. I'm assuming this bird's a Winter visitor from the continent but I won't be upset to be proven wrong.

• Black-headed Gull 3 overhead
• Blackbird 1
• Blackcap 1
• Blue Tit 2
• Carrion Crow 1
• Great Tit 2
• House Sparrow 11
• Long-tailed Tit 2
• Robin 1
• Starling 5
• Woodpigeon 1

Plenty of black-headed gulls on the school playing field. A couple of second-Winter common gulls joined the more usual adults. Today's large gulls were four adult lesser black-backs and six herring gulls — two second-Winter and four first-Winter birds.

I decided to have a wander through Stretford Ees to Sale Water Park and thence into Chorlton, possibly on to the water park if the mood took. 

I walked through Stretford and got onto Stretford Ees from Hawthorn Road. A very loosely organised tit flock — blue, great and long-tailed tits — busied about in the hedgerow by the aquaduct and magpies rattled about the treetops, either paired up and marking territories or else in loose bunches of adolescent hoolies.

Male stonechat, Stretford Ees

Out on the open field the flood waters were definitely receding and a small flock of black-headed gulls were feeding on the damp mud. The paths were a lot drier than on my last visit, solid enough to walk on but muddy enough to give your boots platform heels, especially now the mizzle had turned into real rain. A handful of ring-necked parakeets made Space Invader noises in the tall trees and a young raven (all beak and no beard) flew low over towards Chorlton, flying ESE instead of the usual southbound birds. I thought I'd struck unlucky with the stonechats again but the male bobbed up out of the long grass near the electricity pylon. I hope the female's still around, just staying undercover.

A great spotted woodpecker called from the trees on the other side of the tram lines. There wasn't anything on the river but a grey wagtail flew over as I crossed the bridge.

Sale Water Park was busy with both people and birds. There were still patches of ice on the lake, all covered in loafing black-headed gulls. Nearly all the usual suspects were out on the lake but I couldn't see any dabchicks (there was a lot of free water in the ditches on Broad Ees Dole, I shouldn't be surprised if they were all deep in there). The rain had passed over and it was becoming a nice sunny afternoon.

Teal, Broad Ees Dole

On Broad Ees Dole, Teal Pool was largely frozen over, the only bird being a single snipe sitting on the edge of the reeds on the far bank. The pool by the hide had some open water, all of it filled by teal. Although the floodwaters have receded a fair bit the islands on this pool are still underwater.

Gadwall and black-headed gull

As I walked through Sale Water Park towards Cow Lane it got considerably busier and extremely more stressful. It's easy — and hypocritical — to get snobby about places you're visiting being too busy with visitors. That wasn't really the problem today, the problem was some of the people. I routinely step aside off the path where possible to let people safely pass and have as much social distancing space as possible. I really don't mind doing that, it's a basic courtesy. I do get pissed off when I do it and the group I'm letting pass still insist on walking four abreast and the one nearest to me looks daggers because I've not left them much room. Happening once is bitterly funny, it soon gets beyond a joke. And you can forget about social distancing here: one bloke who insisted on talking to me couldn't have gotten any closer if we were wearing the same trousers. 

The feeders by the café had been freshly filled and a few blue tits, great tits and nuthatches braved the crowds passing by. I'd just arrived and was standing up on the bank by the café when a bloke with binoculars literally standing right next to the feeding station shouted up to me: "Are there no willow tits about?" "Have you had no luck?" I answered innocently.

Sale Ees

I'd had enough by now and sloped off down through Sale Ees towards the river. There were still pools of water about but the paths were largely dryish. Over the bridge and through Hardy Farm and off home. I'd got as far as Chorlton Park when an empty bus that stops at Humphrey Park Station arrived so I got on and got home rather than walking through Chorlton. Twenty minutes on an empty bus is less risky than the best part of an hour walking through a crowd scene.

It's frustrating that staying within lockdown rules means that if I want any serious walking exercise I have to thread my way through a crowd and not break the rules by spending ten minutes on an empty train to Irlam then go for a walk through Irlam and Cadishead mosses and not get within hailing distance of two dozen people over three hours. There are worse things, much, much worse things, I know, but it does get frustrating and stressful.