Flixton

Great crested grebe with a stick for its nest, Irlam Locks

I don't know what's happening with the crow's nest at the corner of the street. I think the crows abandoned it when the rooks got interested, then the jackdaws started haunting it, then the rooks looked like they.were back, then the leaves unfurled and hid the whole stage so I'm none the wiser.

Manchester Ship Canal by Irlam Locks

I went for a walk around Flixton, getting the bus to Town Gate after running a couple of errands. I walked down from there to Irlam Locks to see what was about.

Great crested grebe, Irlam Locks

This time last year I was worrying there weren't many swallows about, this year there are plenty though I wonder if that might be because the lousy weather has stopped them moving on North. The canal was a bit quiet: just a couple of pairs of mallard, two cormorants and three great crested grebes, including a pair that were collecting nest material. A couple of dozen black-headed gulls joined the starlings and magpies on the filtration beds on the water treatment works. A dozen or so sand martins flew in and joined the swallows round the horse paddocks.

Jack Lane

I retraced my steps and headed off down Jack Lane. I took a chance and took the path through the reedbeds, which turned out to be a good move as the long, dry April meant it was pretty firm underfoot. A few chiffchaffs foraged in the willows and one sang from a bush near the railway embankment, a couple of reed buntings sang from the tops of the reeds on one side of the path while a reed warbler sang from somewhere near the bottoms of the reeds on the other. My muttered curse at a camera-shy chiffchaff spooked a heron from the middle of the reeds, it flew off over the railway towards the river. A pair of kestrels came in and flew off in the same direction.

Heron, Jack Lane

Dutton's Pond was quiet, save for the three moorhens upsetting the fishing.

Fly Ash Hill was busy with birds but frustratingly difficult to pin them down. The starlings hawking for St. Thingie's flies, the greenfinch singing in the hedgerow and the robins feeding on the path were easy enough to spot, as was the hovering kestrel and the noisy buzzard patrolling the lagoons. The great tits silently foraging at the base of one of the half-drowned alders near the railway underpass set the scene. Silent goldfinches and blue tits set catkins shaking in the corner of the eye. Even the wrens went about their business quietly and surreptitiously. It was a relief to come out into the open space and have whitethroats bouncing round the hawthorn bushes, alternately loudly ticking and singing as the spirit took them.

Fly Ash Hill

I had a nosy along the mile road on the way back. A couple of pairs of pheasants fed with a handful of woodpigeons in one corner of the field while the usual pair of magpies bounced round the margin near the river.

A dabchick fished by the bridge over the river and a couple of mallards dabbled upstream. Then a quick visit to the garden centre and off home on the train.