Leighton Moss

Black-headed gull chick begging for food

Still feeling the effects of hay fever and yesterday's vampire attack I thought I'd go up to Leighton Moss and have this year's first proper sit-down look out from the coastal hides. 

The tidings bode well as the train slowed down for Silverdale Station. On the pools furthest away from the Eric Morecambe Hide were dozens of lapwings and black-headed gulls, a few avocets and a black swan. No sign of any egrets or spoonbills but on the pool by the railway embankment there was a coal black wader that could only have been a spotted redshank.

The view walking down New Road

The walk down to the hides from the station was punctuated by noisy black-headed gulls and twittering swallows flying overhead and blackcaps and chiffchaffs singing in the trees. I remember when I first did this walk you could barely hear anything for the lorries coming and going from the quarry. The song of a Cetti's warbler heralded my arrival at the Allen Hide 

Avocets, black-headed gulls and an oystercatcher

On the Allen pool it was evident that the black-headed gulls had had a very good breeding season, perhaps to the exclusion of anything else. Many of the youngsters were full-grown and capable of flying after their parents if food wasn't forthcoming. Some of the younger gulls still had that plover-like look to them. A couple of pairs of avocets looked as if they might be making a late attempt at nesting. By all accounts they've had a very bad breeding season.

Lapwing

From the Eric Morecambe Hide most everything was in silhouette so I didn't rate my chances of picking up the spotted redshank from a distance. I wasn't wrong, though there were plenty enough common redshanks to be getting on with.

Great black-back chicks

The appearance of three unaccompanied goslings from behind a mound on an island puzzled me until they turned round and I saw their beaks. I always forget what an enormous bird is a great black-back. Their parents were loafing on small islands within easy reach if danger threatened. 

Lapwings

I spent a while looking round, enjoying the lapwings and avocets in the sunshine and the racket made by the black-headed gulls. The glare and the heat haze was challenging to say the least so after one long scan round in the hopes of an egret or two (nope) I called it quits and set off back towards Leighton Moss.

On the walk down the path to the road I had a reed warbler singing from the ditch to my left while a sedge warbler sang from the reedbed to my right. Birds make their own rules up.

Male marsh harrier

As I walked down the road a male marsh harrier rose up from the reedbeds over towards the Griesdale Hide, floated overhead then returned whence it came, to the fury of the black-headed gulls there.

English stonecrop growing on the level crossing

Just after the level crossing I was distracted by the noise of a sparrowhawk being mobbed by swallows and house martins.

I had an hour at Leighton Moss (I would have been longer but I noticed the next train had been cancelled). It was a warm, sunny day so I wasn't surprised it was busy. I was surprised that the paths beyond the sky tower were very quiet and the hides empty.

There were plenty of black-headed gulls about, many with young to feed. Reed buntings, reed warblers and chiffchaffs sang in the reedbeds while the willow warblers were silent. There wasn't much doing from the hides, most of the ducks were sleeping undercover and even the gulls were too warm for much beside loafing. Until a female marsh harrier got too close, whereupon they rose up like a noisy cloud and sank, like a deflated balloon, once she'd passed by.

While the birds were dozing the dragonflies were being very active. Black-tailed skimmers were busy courting and mating, common blue damselflies were zipping round all over the shop and I was buzzed by a couple of emperor dragonflies, I don't remember seeing them here before.

No joy bumping into any marsh tits on the way back to the visitor centre but I did notice a treecreeper taking food back to its nest.

From the Eric Morecambe Hide

A nice day out to distract from hayfever and the bites and stings of yesterday.

 

Pennington Flash

Egyptian goose

I had an afternoon stroll round Pennington Flash to take advantage of gloomy weekday weather. 

Horse chestnut

Walking down from St. Helens Road the birds were very quiet save for the frustrating chirps and ticks of young robins and great tits, the rustle of leaves as blackbirds, wrens and goldfinches moved through the undergrowth and the clatter of woodpigeons in the treetops. The quiet was shattered by a family of jays heralding the arrival of a parent with a great mouthful of what looked like steak and kidney pudding but was probably something not available at the freezer counter.

Egyptian geese

I arrived at the car park to find three Egyptian geese feeding amongst the mallards and pigeons. I don't know that these are the same birds that were here last year, if not this is a remarkable coincidence.

It's hard to see much of the spit by the Horrocks Hide over the herbage. A couple of dozen mallards slept while lapwings tiptoed round them. There were a few dozen black-headed gulls at the end of the spit; all the large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs, were out in open water. Oystercatchers were heard but not seen.

Moving on, the birdsong got louder. Blackbirds, wrens and blackcaps struggled to make themselves heard over the song thrushes. There were a few chiffchaffs around, and here and there a singing goldfinch. Family parties of great tits and blue tits moved quietly through the willows and dogwoods beside the path.

Pennington Flash

There wasn't much doing on the pools either side of the path by the Tom Edmondson Hide, just a few coots and moorhens and an adult heron.

Ramsdales was fairly quiet, mostly mallards and lapwings. It's good to see that the young lapwings are nearly full grown with hints of black crests adorning their yellow faces. A Cetti's warbler quietly sang in the reeds, something I didn't think they were capable of doing.

I walked down to Bunting Hide, adding sedge and reed warblers to the song list with fly-by cameos from a nuthatch and a family of long-tailed tits.

Westleigh Brook

I keep meaning to visit Hope Carr Nature Reserve again but haven't got round to it so I decided to walk over there taking the path that goes under Amberleigh Way then follows Westleigh Brook before turning and heading to Pennington Hall Park. I crossed St. Helens Road and walked down Chestnut Avenue to the little cut that takes you over the bridge into Hope Carr.

I'd hardly stepped onto the bridge when a Cetti's warbler broke into song in the hogweeds along Pennington Brook. I had to wait to get off the bridge as a family of great tits met a family of chiffchaffs in the elderberry bush at the corner of the path then spent some time foraging in the bushes before heading off together into deep undergrowth. I very quickly gave up trying to get a photo of any of them.

Hope Carr nature reserve

I dived into the trees and took the rough paths that go round the lagoons. It didn't take long for me to start wondering what all the biting insects feed on when occasional birdwatchers aren't passing through, there aren't enough roe deer in the world to satisfy those numbers. Luckily the hand sanitiser turns out to put them off a lot, I know to do it proactively in future. The brambles and head-high nettles were another thing again.

More jays and song thrushes in the trees, families of tufties and mallards on the water with some coots and moorhens. And reed warblers and whitethroats by the United Utilities car park.

As the bus back to the Trafford Centre passed through Astley I spotted a woodpigeon that was even more peculiar than the piebald individual back home. This bird was all white save grey flight feathers and tail and a sandy cream head. 

Spike Island

Whooper swan

In the first Covid lockdown I started making a list of days out to places I'd only seen in bird reports with a view to visiting them once things settled down. I've spent the past couple of months catching up with places I know so I thought today I'd explore Spike Island in Widnes, which I was assured is a nice walk. And so it is.

Mute swans and whooper

I walked down from Widnes Station and got the 61 bus to Catalyst, the science museum by Spike Island. I followed the path past the café and found a large herd of mute swans loafing at the end of the old St. Helens Canal. In amongst them was an interloper. The whooper looked like a young bird, there were still some brown shafts on its head feathers. It wasn't remotely fussed about people passing by, being in the middle of a crowd of belligerent mute swans probably gave it a sense of security, though it quietly slipped off into the water any time a dog came by. A juvenile heron on the canal bank didn't look unduly bothered by passers-by either. Coots, mallards, a few Canada geese and a couple of tufties quietly got on with the business of the day.

Juvenile heron

I wandered down the path to the river. There was a little exposed mud at the sides, occupied by lesser black-backs and lapwings. Along the bank of what I shall still refer to as the Lancashire side of the river there were more lesser black-backs and lapwings, together with black-headed gulls and a few herring gulls. A heron and a little egret dozed side by side. There were a lot of house martins and swallows flying about and in the confusion I almost missed a ringed plover as it flew quickly along a grassy bank. A couple of cormorants fished out in the river and a shelduck flew upstream beyond the Gateway Bridge.

Baby coot

I followed the path round to the canal which was busy with three families of coots in close squabbling distance. A couple of almost full-sized young mallards loafed on the bank with a drake that had almost completed its moult into eclipse plumage.

A few common blue damselflies over the water caught my eye then I noticed that some of them were rather a lot big for damselflies. A couple of male emperor dragonflies hawked fast and low over the middle of the canal. I spent a while trying to photograph them, no easy feat given that they were fast and could turn on a sixpence the moment they were in focus. I was a bit luckier with a female that settled on the pondweed to lay her eggs.

Female emperor dragonfly laying eggs

Male emperor dragonfly

It had become a sunny day and it was starting to get busy with people so after completing a circuit I moved on. I toyed with the idea of moving on to Hale Lighthouse for another walk but decided I'd been lucky so far with the hayfever and it might be as well to quit while I was ahead. A nice walk and now I know how easy it is to get there one to bear in mind for the future.

Elton Reservoir

Sand martins, Elton Reservoir

The plans for taking advantage of the change in the weather were put to one side (I was shattered after a very bad night's sleep) so I opted for an afternoon stroll round Elton Reservoir instead. I decided to approach it by walking down to Withins Reservoir from Ainsworth Road but got off the bus a stop too early and had to take the footpath through Bradley Fold to Ainsworth Road. This turned out to be a very nice walk, accompanied by flocks of linnets and goldfinches, singing reed buntings and greenfinches and small clouds of swallows and house martins overhead.

Bradley Fold

The walk down to Withins was less straightforward: the last marker for the footpath was literally in the middle of a hayfield and I couldn't see any marker or gap in the fence that would either lead on this path or connect with the footpath on the other side of the fence. I keep telling myself I'm too old to be climbing fences…

Withins Reservoir was quiet save for half a dozen Canada geese, a singing willow warbler and a cock sparrow chasing dragonflies.

Elton Reservoir

Elton Reservoir was very low, with broad green expanses of boggy vegetation where there's usually a good depth of water. In a month or so this could attract some interesting waders, as it was there were a couple of dozen rather flighty lapwings milling about at the water's edge.

Common scoters (female second right), Elton Reservoir

Aside from a flock of thirty-odd Canada geese and four goslings all the waterfowl — mallards, mute swans and coots — were over at the sailing club end of the reservoir. All except a raft of seven common scoters keeping their distance out in the middle of the water. From a distance it was a collection of dark blobs but as I got nearer the pale cheeks of a female stood out clearly. In the end I could see that the rest were males though only two showed bright yellow bills. There's evidently a passage of scoters through the region, when I got home there were reports in from most of the big reservoirs and lakes.

A flock of a hundred or more sand martins hawked low over the water. Every so often some of them would land, presumably feeding on insects on the exposed "beach," leastways none of them were carrying anything when they flew off. I've never seen this before, maybe there was a mass hatching of something or other and the martins found it easier to go straight to source rather than flying round to catch the hatchlings.

The birds in the trees around the reservoir were mostly quiet, the exceptions being the willow warblers and reed buntings that sang at fifty years intervals and a couple of whitethroats in the hawthorn hedges. Even the big family of great tits working their way through the elderflowers by the creek were very quiet. 

I saw just the one robin, which darted into the undergrowth as soon as it spotted me. This is a better track record than I have at home at the moment, this year's post-breeding absence feels a bit more pronounced than usual.

The black-headed gulls have produced at least a dozen youngsters and they loafed at the water's edge with the adults. A few lesser black-backs sat on buoys out in the water. The height of the breeding season's over over as far as the gulls and waterfowl are concerned. It won't be long before the post-breeding roosts start building up again.

Elton Reservoir

Martin Mere-ish

Corn bunting, Red Cat Lane, Burscough

It was a cloudier, cooler sort of a day, good walking weather, cool enough for me to be glad I'd put on a waistcoat but not so cool that I wished I had my jacket.

Behind New Lane Station

The walk seemed well-starred from the off. The hedgerow beside the path from New Lane Station was busy with house sparrows, blue tits and chiffchaffs. On the other side of the line there were three whitethroats singing on the telephone line, apparently using the telegraph poles as boundary markers. 

Swallows, swifts and sand martins wheeled low overhead together with the first big flock of house martins this year. The water treatment works were the main attraction for them, the local starlings and magpies and a steady stream of black-headed gulls. The oystercatchers feeding on the filtration beds were phenomenally noisy, the ones feeding on the fields with the woodpigeons and stock doves quietly got on with their business.

Oystercatcher, New Lane

As I approached the foot crossing over the line a buzzard flew low over the greenhouses by the farm, much to the consternation of a flock of swallows and a couple of passing black-headed gulls.

The path through the fields from the railway line

I'd been congratulating myself on the choice of walk and weather. I crossed the line and found I'd be closely following a chap on a motor mower who was keeping the path in cricket pitch condition (and width). You can't fight Fate. Luckily, I'd taken precautions before I came out and stuffed Vaseline up my nose. I lingered so as to be well behind the mower and he'd gone back into Martin Mere by the time I reached the path that goes round the boundary.

The field by the line was surprisingly busy with birds though it was hard work to spot them. The singing skylarks and reed buntings were easy enough, and explained a lot of the contact calls in the long grass. The sedge warbler singing in the ditch was a beggar to find.

Marsh harrier, Martin Mere

I got to the boundary path at Martin Mere and was rewarded by the sight of a female marsh harrier floating low over the reedbed pools. I kept seeing her on and off throughout the walk (I could identify her by a couple of missing primary feathers). As I was watching her there was an explosion of song from the first of three Cetti's warblers I'd be hearing on this walk.

It was a relatively quiet walk along here. At the start, by the fields, there had been song thrushes, chaffinches and chiffchaffs singing in the hedgerow. At the end there was a family of jays. In between there was a few chiffchaffs and whitethroats, the occasional willow warbler and the Cetti's warblers. The swifts and hirundines swooping overhead reminded me that the water treatment works is just the other side of the trees.

Corn bunting, Red Cat Lane

I hadn't booked a visit to Martin Mere so when I reached Tarlscough Road I turned and walked down to Burscough. There were lots of house sparrows in the hedges and goldfinches and greenfinches in the trees. As I passed Brandeth Barn a couple of tree sparrows disappeared into the hedge by the barns. Corn buntings could be seen but not heard in the field at the corner of Curlew Lane, a most unsatisfactory addition to the year list. I hadn't gone far when I was cheered up immensely by a corn bunting singing from the top of a telegraph pole. It was reluctant to let me take a photo of it singing (I have pictures of it turning its back on me) but was happy enough to pose for the camera when it flew down into the field. He jumped back onto the pole to resume singing and I left him to it. Walking down Red Cat Lane into Burscough there were another three or four buntings singing from the fields, which was encouraging.

Red Cat Lane

Mersey Valley

Whitethroat, Barlow Tip

I was woken by the garden warbler singing a couple of hours earlier than usual. It's a strange thing but when I hear the blackcap singing in my garden I have an internal dialogue that goes: "There's the blackcap. Are you sure that's the blackcap? Yes, I think so. It might be the garden warbler. Of course it's the blackcap." And yet when I hear the garden warbler actually sing I recognise it immediately, it's significantly different to anything else out there.

As it was a dull Sunday afternoon I thought I'd chance going for a stroll round Chorlton Water Park. It was a good call: it wasn't particularly busy with people. It wasn't particularly busy with birds, either. 

Barlow Tip

I spent longer than intended wandering around Barlow Tip. I was just going to pop in for a quick scan round but there was a lot of warbler action going on with chiffchaffs, whitethroats and willow warblers outsinging the blackbirds and song thrushes for a change. Wrens and reed buntings provided backing vocals. There was also a lot of flitting about by small birds, most of which eventually turned out to be blue tits, blackcaps, dunnocks or robins. A couple of chaffinches were seen but not heard. At least two whitethroat families had hungry mouths to feed.

Whitethroat. Barlow Tip

I suspect I missed a lesser whitethroat along the way. While I may have confused myself silly with blackcaps and garden warblers I've completely lost my ear for lesser whitethroats. There was a possible which I can't confirm despite listening to recordings. Once I stop worrying about it I'll bump into loads of them.

By the time I'd emerged from Barlow Tip it had become a sunny afternoon so I scrubbed the plan to wander down to Sale Water Park to try and find willow tits and see if anything interesting had parked itself on Broad Ees Dole. Instead I walked along the river to Kenworthy Woods.

There had been quite a few common blue damselflies on Barlow Tip, the river embankment had lots of them, mostly males. You could scarce take a step without disturbing at least two or three. Nice to finally see them in numbers.

A grey wagtail and a couple of blackcaps gleaning from waterside clumps of hogweed were the only birds on the river.

Kenworthy Woods

Walking through Kenworthy Woods I bumped into a mixed tit flock: a family of blue tits and a family of long-tailed tits foraging in the trees by the main path. Half a dozen swifts flew overhead, they had been notable by their absence over the water courses. Leaving the main path the songscape was primarily chiffchaffs and wrens with support from a few blackbirds and a couple of song thrushes. The only jay of the day was ostentatiously ignoring a family of carrion crows.

By the time I'd walked through the woods I'd had a couple of hours' strolling about so I called it quits and got the bus from Yew Tree Road. It had felt like a quiet birdwatching session but I'd still got forty species on the list even with quite a few notable absentees.

Son of Home Thoughts

Spadgers

Another bunch of baby spadgers are being taught where to find the facilities. It's odd: the first few batches of spadglings are usually escorted by high-ranking males but this year they've all been with females. Unless, as is entirely possible, I've missed a whole load of them as they stayed hidden in the rambling rose. I forgot to fill up the bird bath while I was filling the feeders this morning, I was shamed into doing so by a pair of spadglings making a great fuss about bathing in thin air. They had all the actions right though when the time came for them to get into real water for a bath it took them a while to get used to the weight of the water.

• Blackbird 1
• Blackcap 1
• Carrion Crow 1
• Collared Dove 2
• Dunnock 1
• Garden Warbler 1
• Goldfinch 2
• Great Tit 2
• House Sparrow 14
• Jackdaw 1
• Magpie 1
• Swift 2
• Woodpigeon 2
• Wren 1

Home thoughts

Honeysuckle

Although it was splendid weather for a walk I decided to spend the day wiping my nose after yesterday's excesses and doing a bit of essential shopping before the spadgers start petitioning Oxfam. The young great tits are pretty much permanently camped on the bird feeders by the rowan tree and the goldfinches have rediscovered the nyger feeder so I'm under pressure to keep the catering facilities up to snuff. The cat is much put out by the young spadgers sitting on the window sill pulling their tongues out at her through the window. I'm continually spooked by the collared dove singing loudly down the chimney. So it's all going swimmingly really.

I had one of those strange trains of thought, set off by somebody's asserting that all the animals would live together peacefully were it not for human beings setting a bad example. This is, of course, nonsense: if an animal can eat something it will do. So gulls eat chips, wrens eat tadpoles and magpies eat whatever they please. Then I got thinking: there are reports of great tits eating mice. And one of the reasons why the breeding success rates of albatrosses is falling is that mice eat them at the nest. So if great tits eat mice and mice eat albatrosses, which would eat what if a great tit was matched with an albatross?

Anyway, some numbers;

• Blackbird 1
• Blackcap 1
• Collared Dove 2
• Feral Pigeon 1
• Garden Warbler 1
• Goldfinch 2
• Great Tit 2
• House Sparrow 19
• Jackdaw 1
• Magpie 2
• Rook 2
• Swift 1
• Woodpigeon 2
• Wren 1

Mosses

Channel wagtail, Little Woolden Moss

Today I thought I'd give the hay fever a run out so I had a stroll across the Salford mosses. It was a bright, hot day with heavy cloud cover that brought a lot of mugginess but no relief from the heat or glare.

A goldcrest singing in a tree as I got off the train at Irlam seemed a good omen. Walking down Astley Road there were a lot of noisy goldfinches and greenfinches, the house sparrows and chaffinches were a lot quieter, and if it wasn't for the sudden movements of leaves against the wind I'd have missed the blue tit and great tit families completely. Every so often a song thrush would belt out its song. I suspect this is why I wasn't heard by the Jack Russell that usually rushes out to eye up any passing strangers and see them off beyond the farm gates.  Blackbirds fed quietly on the road margins, along the cut verges of the farm paths they were meticulously spaced out every three yards.

Greenfinches, Irlam Moss

The local swallows were busy hawking low over the turf fields. It's odd how they can find plenty to eat low over these fields but nothing seems to find anything on them, they're bereft of birds save the occasional carrion crow rummaging round the margins. The pied wagtails either hung around the horses in the paddocks or lurked around the farmyards picking up scraps from the bases of the freshly-rolled turf.

There'd been the usual whitethroats in hawthorn bushes and the occasional blackcap in the roadside trees but it wasn't until I was nearly at Four Lanes End before I heard the first chiffchaff.

Avocets and black-headed gulls, Little Woolden Moss

The trees by the entrance to Little Woolden Moss were busy with goldfinches and willow warblers. Walking through into the open moss I disturbed the first of many small family parties of linnets. Meadow pipits did their parachute song, launching themselves from the tops of stunted birches and landing deep in the cotton grass.

Large skipper, Little Woolden Moss

Latticed heath, Little Woolden Moss

There were surprisingly few dragonflies about, all four spotted chasers as far as I could tell. They were made up for by the large skippers that seemed to have claimed territorial rights of every heather bush. There were a few day-flying moths around, including a couple of very lovely latticed heaths. (I have to admit I had to look them up when I got home, I could pin them down to family but no further in the field.)

A couple of dozen lapwings were feeding and idling round the pools, easily the most I've seen here. A pair of oystercatchers were being very noisy but I didn't see any signs that they were watching over youngsters. The black-headed gulls have managed to raise a few young and these were loafing at the water's edge. To my surprise they were accompanied by a couple of sleeping avocets.

Little Woolden Moss

I walked round, heading for Moss Lane and thence Glazebury. The seedheads of the hare's tail grasses had mostly been blown away, the swathes of white in the landscape now mostly being provided by the cotton grasses.

I was quietly lamenting the lack of dragonflies when a pair of hobbies flew in, made quick inroads on the numbers and went along their way. Their arrival upset the curlews I'd been hearing since my arrival and they flew up, did a circuit of the pools and only settled when the hobbies had moved on. This, in turn, unsettled a couple of yellow wagtails which flew from the pools and settled to feed in the cotton grasses nearer the path.

Mosslands Farm, Little Woolden Moss

A very welcome cooling breeze picked up. It looked like somewhere over Westhoughton someone's garden was getting a shower.

For two years running this time of year I've heard a quail singing from exactly the same place in the barley fields. I'll have to come back soon to see if I can make it three years on the trot.

Channel wagtail, Little Woolden Moss

Much to my surprise the Channel wagtail flew into the same bush by the poly tunnels I saw it in last time. This is obviously its favoured look-out post. Each time I see it I have a crisis of identification, convincing myself the grey head must be a trick of the light. Luckily the bird is very obliging at allowing the collection of photographic evidence. It's a bonny bird, I'm glad it's around.

I finally added tree sparrow to the year list when one flew down to feed in one of the potato fields. I've seen a few round here before but they're vastly outnumbered by the house sparrows that hang around the farmyards. I was worrying that tree sparrow was going to be this year's bogey bird. (That just leaves corn bunting and whooper swan to get ticked off for this year's list to look reasonably normal.)

Glaze Brook was very low, providing plenty of mud for a grey wagtail to investigate.

I'd been doing OK with the hay fever up to then but the effects of walking through the barley fields finally kicked in and my eyes were streaming when I got on the bus to Leigh. The driver must have thought there's been a bereavement. I got the bus back to the Trafford Centre from Leigh.

I dropped in on my local patch on the way home. Good to see (and hear!) so many goldfinches. Also good to see the first (I hope) of the young whitethroats.

• Black-headed Gull 2 overhead
• Blackbird 5
• Blackcap 1
• Carrion Crow 1
• Chiffchaff 1
• Dunnock 2
• Feral Pigeon 10 overhead
• Goldfinch 30
• Greenfinch 4
• House Sparrow 5
• Lesser Black-backed Gull 1 overhead
• Magpie 5
• Song Thrush 1
• Starling 13
• Whitethroat 5
• Woodpigeon 5
• Wren 1

Hogweed, Barton Clough

Leighton Moss

Male marsh harrier

I had a few hours' wander round Leighton Moss while the weather was behaving itself and the pollen count was high at home. (The reeds at Leighton Moss aren't in flower yet.)

As the train pulled into Silverdale I had a quick scan round the coastal pools. There was still a hundred or more black-headed gulls about the Allen Pool. There were a dozen or so avocets on the pools by the Eric Morecambe Hide, together with a few shelduck and a couple of great black-backs. No sign of any egrets at all, nor any spoonbills though they have been reported lately.

Leighton Moss reedbeds

Leighton Moss was busy but not intolerably so once you got out into the reedbeds. Well nigh everything along the paths was covered in a thick dusting of willow seeds. Including, I suspect, some of the visitors.

Most of the small birds were being self-effacing, probably starting the post-breeding moult, but the chiffchaffs, willow warblers and reed warblers were still in full song and there were young robins and blue tits in the willows by the path.

Female marsh harrier being mobbed by black-headed gulls

A male marsh harrier flew over the reeds as I walked over to the Tim Jackson Hide. The pool in front of the hide was fairly quiet — a mute swan, a couple of coots and a handful of gadwall. None of these were remotely perturbed when the marsh harrier made a return call before floating off towards the coastal pools. I'd seen a few common blue damselflies on the path to the hide, there were a few more hawking low over the pools but by far the most numerous Odonata were the broad-bodied chasers that were chasing each other round the margins.

Blue-tailed damselfly

I noticed a couple of blue-tailed damselflies in the reeds on the way to the Griesdale Hide.

From Griesdale Hide

Over at the Griesdale Hide the nesting black-headed gulls and lapwings were much exorcised by a female marsh harrier that made repeated forays over the colony. A family of mute swans emerged from the reeds by the bund. Half a dozen shelducks, a few tufties and a pair of pochard loafed on the bund. A buzzard soared very high above the hillside but only a couple of passing carrion crows took any notice.

Pochard

As I walked back through the reedbeds I kept an eye out overhead on the off-chance an osprey may pass by. The closest I got was a sparrowhawk which was seen on its way by a combination of angry black-headed gulls and a flock of swallows. On the way to Lilian's Hide I bumped into a treecreeper as it silently crept up one of the drowned willows.

Juvenile black-headed gull

There were still a few black-headed gulls looking like they were still sitting on nests by Lilian's Hide. Half a dozen well-grown juveniles suggested they were running late. The black-headed gulls monopolised all the islands and water margins, whenever any of the gadwalls or coots got too close they got a proper scolding. 

I decided to call it quits after three hours' wander and got the train home the long way via Liverpool to maximize the value of my old man's explorer ticket. (I was tempted to stay on the train on to Crewe but I had to stop off at Urmston to do a shop so the cat wouldn't sneer at my having a chippy tea two days running.)