Pennington Flash

Great crested grebes collecting nest material

I was all set for another indolent day at home so I dragged myself out for a late afternoon walk round Pennington Flash in the rain.

I've never known the place so quiet: just me, a man with a sad-looking dog and a bloke pushing a three year old on a swing. Even the ice cream vans weren't there. Luckily, possibly consequently, plenty of birds were about. It was one of those afternoons where you wish the pandemic was over so the hides could be opened.

Walking towards Pennington Brook

Walking in from St Helens Road the rain dampened the spirits of most of the birds in the trees. A couple of song thrushes and a blackcap sang, the rest quietly got on with their business. There was neither sight nor sound of the jays this time. Great tits, blue tits, wrens and robins were around but very hard to get to see.

There wasn't a single bird on Pennington Brook, which is very unusual.

Black-headed gull

The usual suspects were on the car park, doing strangely natural things in the absence of people armed with duck food. A herd of thirty-odd Canada geese grazed on the grass between the trees, the goslings being in that peculiar stage where they look like three-quarter sized versions of the adults. The mallards loafed and dabbled by the banks of the flash while the herd of mute swans grazed further out in the water. 

A hundred and something coots were scattered in rafts across the open water accompanied by a handful of tufted ducks. A few black-headed gulls were about, most seemed to be on the other side of the flash by the sailing club. There were also the first big rafts of large gulls, perhaps fifty-odd blesser black-backs in total. There were dozens of swifts hawking low both over the water and the car park but, strangely, no hirundines. 

An Egyptian goose came to see what I was, didn't much like the look of me and strolled quickly away. I couldn't see if the other two that are usually with it were about.

Juvenile mistle thrush

There were a dozen mistle thrushes on the golf course by the car park, nearly all juveniles in their mildew-and-rust plumage. A few more chased each other round the kiddies' playground. While I was watching a couple skittering round in a willow tree I noticed a couple of tree creepers quietly working their way up the branches.

The vegetation made it almost impossible to see anything on the spit in front of the Horrocks Hide save a few mallards and black-headed gulls. Looking out over the flash I was trying to work out what a dark shape was on the water when I noticed a dark tern on one of the buoys. It turned out to be a common tern, the dark being down to a combination of murky light and the bird sitting low against the buoy. Coming back to the dark shape it eventually drifted in a bit closer and gave side-on views enough for me to identify it as a common scoter. It definitely wasn't an adult male but I couldn't see it well enough to be sure if it was a female or a young male (if pressed I'd be inclined to the latter). There seems to be another passage of scoters on the go, every other reservoir seems to have reported some today.

The pool in front of the Tom Edmondson Hide was full of loafing mallards. Across the path a pair of coots were feeding their second brood and a pair of great crested grebes were collecting nest materials. A sedge warbler and a reed warbler sang briefly and the usual Cetti's warbler gave a burst of song from its bramble patch.

There were forty-odd lapwings at Ramsdales in the company of a dozen or so mallards. A single drake teal in its spotted dick eclipse plumage was barged by a caravanserai of noisy mallard ducklings while it tried to doze on the bank nearest the hide.

Pennington Brook

I made my way back to St Helens Road. Plenty of more of the same along the way. I felt better for the walk even with damp feet where the stitching to my boots had finally given up the game.