Mosses

Yellowhammer, Chat Moss

It's a sunny Saturday so a walk across the mosses was the order of the day. I set off mid-afternoon to miss the midday quiet period. It was still very warm but a very welcome cooling breeze came across the fields as I walked down Astley Road.

A feature of the whole afternoon was the movement of squadrons of woodpigeons overhead, mostly towards ripening fields of barley. The Irlam end of Astley Road was pretty quiet: a few goldfinches and a couple of whitethroats sang, a few blackbirds and dunnocks rummaged in the roadside vegetation, but even the great tits went about their business in silence.

Astley Road 

The usual kestrels weren't around by the Jack Russell's gate (the Jack Russell was asleep in the yard). I caught up with one of the youngsters sitting on the wires by Prospect Grange. As, indeed, did a crow which took advantage of its being on its own and gave it a hard chase across the field. Probably the same two birds involved in the drama last time I walked down here.

It was a little busier the other side of the motorway though still considerably quieter than usual. Across the whole acreage of turf fields there were two woodpigeons, a pied wagtail and half a dozen low-flying swallows. Things picked up a lot around the stables and horse paddocks with goldfinches and house sparrows twittering in the hedgerows with a few greenfinches and yellowhammers.

Skylark, Chat Moss

There were a lot of butterflies about, mostly large whites and small tortoiseshells with a few red admirals. I turned the corner at Four Lanes End. There were five painted lady territories along this stretch of path and when they weren't busy chasing each other out of their territories they were chasing off any other winged creatures. They're even more aggressive than the small tortoiseshells, which is saying some.

I had to stop for a couple of minutes to let a skylark finish gathering up a beakful of beetles. Very unusually I didn't hear a single one of them today.

Cinnabar moth caterpillar on ragwort, Little Woolden Moss 

The trees at the entrance to Little Woolden Moss were busy with willow warblers and wrens collecting food for hungry mouths. Small family parties of goldfinches fed in the treetops while linnets fed on the open ground and in the heather.

Yellow wagtail, Little Woolden Moss

A couple of dozen lapwings loafed on the pools while linnets, meadow pipits and pied wagtails fed round the edges. A yellow wagtail flew in, I thought at first it was the Channel wagtail that's been about but it was just the harsh light bouncing off a perfectly normal female yellow wagtail's head. The light was so harsh that from some angles even the backs of the male pied wagtails took on a silvery sheen. A lot of the youngsters are still very pale and a couple of times I looked twice in the hopes of a white wagtail (it still rankles that I missed their Spring passage).

There were still a few dragonflies about: a couple each of common blue damselflies and migrant hawkers and my first common darter of the year.

I didn't even bother checking the bus times in Glazebury and headed back to walk down Twelve Yards Road, passing a resting brown hare along the way.

Hare, Little Woolden Moss

The fields and hedges along Twelve Yards Road were busy with birds being mostly very quiet. A blackcap and a chiffchaff sang from the trees by the stables, a whitethroat sang from the willowherbs in a drain (there were more whitethroats going about their business in dead silence the length of the road). A few black-headed gulls flew over to the poos to the North. More woodpigeons flew to and fro between fields.

Juvenile kestrels, Chat Moss

Over by one of the farmyards I noticed that the kestrel nest box is still occupied, the youngsters sitting at the entrance waiting for the parents to deliver meals. The male ranged across the moss to do his hunting while the female kept to the fields immediately by the farmyard.

The yellow bird singing on the wires near Cutnook Lane this week was a yellowhammer. And very nice, too.

By Twelve Yards Road 

I had a quick five minutes up the path towards the pools North of Twelve Yards Road, adding coots and song thrushes to the day's tally. I didn't linger, I wanted to make sure not to miss the bus home this time.

I'd been conscious that I hadn't seen a buzzard all day so it came as a bit of a relief when one drifted over Cutnook Lane. Blackcaps, chiffchaffs and song thrushes sang me down the lane and a couple of chattering mistle thrushes escorted me onto the bridge over the motorway.

And this time I had two minutes' grace before the 100 bus arrived to take me back to the Trafford Centre.