Woolston

Robin, Grey Mist

The teeming rain had pretty much exhausted itself by ten o'clock so, rather against my better judgement, I decided I'd join the twitch for the penduline tit at Woolston Eyes. For one thing, it would be a lifer if I managed to see it. For another, it's rare for non-permit holders to be allowed in so it was a chance for a wander round a site I last explored the best part of forty years ago. (I'd get a permit but the last time I looked you had to download and print the application form.)

The options were: go down to Altrincham and get one or other of the slow buses to Grappenhall and walk up from there or get the train to Padgate and walk down Woolston Brook and the New Cut Trail, cross the Mersey at Woolston Weir and follow the path round Woolston Eyes to Number 4 Bed where the bird has been seen. The journeys take as long as each other so I got the train, the idea being that if I didn't get to see the penduline tit (which was very likely) then at least I'd have had a decent walk.

Woolston Brook 

I walked down Woolston Brook into Paddington, the trees and hedgerows being busy with robins and blackbirds. It had become a very nice, bright morning though there were some dodgy looking clouds on the Western horizon. 

Along the New Cut Trail looking towards Grey Mist

I joined the New Cut Trail at the corner of Paddington Meadows and walked eastwards to the weir. The drowned alders and willows were busy with mixed tit flocks, all of them predominantly long-tailed tits with blue tits, great tits and goldcrests. There seemed to be a lot of goldcrests about and I checked each one just in case they might be something more exotic. It is a rule with goldcrests that if they come to have a look at you to see what you're about (which is nearly always) they'll make sure you can't take any photos because they'll either be silhouettes in flaring sunlight or lurking in a dark patch in a conifer. The only exotic warblers were a couple of Cetti's warblers singing in the cut by Grey Mist. These days most places in Northwest England that have a combination of drowned trees, reeds and brambles have a Cetti's warbler holding a territory. Looking through the trees I could see a dozen black-headed gulls with the coots and mute swans on Grey Mist.

Long-tailed tit, Grey Mist

Looking upstream from Woolston Weir there was just the one mute swan. In contrast, the river between the walkway and the weir was a crowd scene with a dozen tufted ducks, half a dozen Canada geese, a shelduck, a great crested grebe and a dozen mallards, most of which were catching up with their sleep.

River Mersey, Woolston Eyes 

I crossed over and joined the path along the river around Woolston Eyes. For the most part it was fairly quiet, a couple of mixed tit flocks, a chiffchaff and a trio of woodpigeons, until I got to the Ship Canal where the trees were busy with goldfinches and blackbirds. I noticed a pair of gadwall sleeping on the far bank of the canal.

The instructions on entry was to use the gate at the end of Thelwall Lane. It turned out that what this really meant was: "Climb over the muddy mound at the side of the big locked gate. Actually, the gate was a godsend for providing support where footholds were dodgy. The advice was also to wear wellies because the path to Number 4 Lagoon is dodgy. I don't have wellies, as I explained to the mud-spattered birdwatchers returning to their cars. The path really is rough, some of the water in the ruts and potholes is deep. The worst being the first one you meet round the corner from the gate where it's possible to wade shin deep so long as you can find the ridge of broken concrete in the middle. After that it was relatively plain sailing and not often getting to the top of my boots. Every so often I'd bump into a birdwatcher who'd tell me they hadn't seen the bird or that it was very distant and that they'd been up to their armpits in mud.

There were more mixed tit flocks in the bushes and small parties of finches — goldfinches and chaffinches — in the taller trees with a great spotted woodpecker.

Watching the watchers on Number 4 Lagoon
I'm still not convinced of the safety or wisdom of this. 

I eventually reached the lagoon. There was a bunch of people picking their way to and from a point a few hundred yards away on the mounds of recently dredged mud. I assayed a few steps onto it and wasn't enthused. There's a trick it took me a long time to learn but it's very useful: if there's a crowd of people looking for a bird have a good look at what they're doing because that'll tell you how much luck they're having. In this case they were standing round looking at each other and comparing mud stains. It struck me that if they were standing there and the bird, if it was seen at all, was in distant reeds then it made more sense to stick to the path and look over the reeds from there. So I found a point where I could see most of the reedbeds (they're quite young so they're patchy rather than one continuous bed) and started scanning round. Some of the people on the mud reached a similar conclusion and migrated over this way from the mud bank.

Number 4 Lagoon 

About twenty minutes passed before something flew up from the reeds a couple of hundred yards away, over the top and down into the depths of another patch of reeds just in front. At first I thought it was a stonechat but as it got above the reeds I realised it looked like a half-sized reed bunting. And that was it, perhaps five seconds' worth and if I hadn't been primed beforehand to think of a penduline tit I would probably have been left scratching my head till I got home and hit the reference books. I gave it another hour before giving up on a second look. All the while there were calls of dunnocks, robins and wrens in the scrub by the path and a Cetti's warbler sang from nearby reeds.

Woolston Eyes 

I bumped into a mixed flock of finches on the way back, mostly goldfinches with some siskins and redpolls in tow.

It started raining as I gave my shins another wash, climbed past the gate and walked down to Grappenhall for the bus. I'd added a lifer to the year list though it had been a thoroughly unsatisfactory sighting. On the other hand I'd had a good walk and seen plenty about and didn't have anything to grumble about.