Martin Mere

Mediterranean gulls, Martin Mere

It was one of those mornings where the sensible person would be finding themselves a nice cosy corner with a pot of tea and a pile of Harold Hare comics. So it was I got the Southport train at Victoria and headed off for New Lane. The train into Manchester no longer stopping at Deansgate is a pain (it's part of the effort to ease congestion at Castlefield Junction now there's no hope of diverting traffic via Mayfield Station or HS2) but I managed to trot over to St Peter's Square in good time for a tram to Victoria and the train behaved impeccably.

Along the way there was the expected woodpigeons and corvids and nearly every station had its blackbird. I arrived at New Lane and despite the drizzly weather decided to go the long way to Martin Mere via the reedbed walk to see what was about on the sewage works, tempted by the black-headed gulls wheeling round the station. It had become one of those heavy, muggy days that seem to sap the energy. Once every so often a welcome breeze would blow a restorative but they were just brief promises.

I'd only got as far as the telegraph pole at the corner of the first field when a hare toddled through the woodpigeons feeding in the stubble.

Brown hare, Martin Mere

The sewage works were busy with black-headed gulls and oystercatchers and very thin on pied wagtails. All the meadow pipits were out on the fields with more gulls, woodpigeons and a flock of thirty-odd stock doves. Chiffchaffs sang in the hawthorns along the line, it can't be long now before they're joined by whitethroats.

The field across the railway line was gratifyingly full of skylarks and their song against a background of honking geese on the mere. A cacophony of caws and shrieks heralded the arrival of a marsh harrier over one of the pools and the objection to it by gulls, crows and jackdaws. A stonechat was holding territory on the corner of the path where the old shed has fallen down. 

Martin Mere 

I joined the path along the perimeter of the reedbeds. It was noisy with distant geese and fairly quiet with hedgerow birds: a few robins, dunnocks and wrens sang and here and there a chiffchaff would sing in the trees. I took a diversion to see what might be feeding on the fence by the sewage works. The clouds of midges were largely unmolested, a couple of wrens were more intent on foraging in the elder bushes and a couple of reed buntings were busy singing. There's a tiny patch of reeds and brambles in a corner by the path that's about as big as a table cloth but still hosted a singing Cetti's warbler.

As I walked around the open reedbed there were a couple more Cetti's and the geese — Canada and greylag — made themselves known. Any hopes of adding any warblers to the year list were in vain.

Martin Mere, joining the path to Fish Lane

For some reason there were fifty or more shelducks on the field by the path to Fish Lane, together with a dozen or so each of Canada geese, greylags and mallards. The path was atrocious so I had to apologise for walking to close to the wildfowl when I had to give in and walk the field margin. A pair of courting buzzards were escorted away from Martin Mere by a crowd of angry crows and black-headed gulls.

Black-headed gulls, Martin Mere

Martin Mere was heaving with black-headed gulls. Most were just starting to negotiate nesting places though on at least one island they were already settled down at two stretched neck intervals just out of reach of neighbours' pecks. 

It was hard work finding much that wasn't a black-headed gull or a mallard. A few cormorants loafed on the corner of one of the rafts and a handful of shelducks drifted about. All the waders were in the distance on the far side of the mere: a couple of dozen black-tailed godwits, mostly in their Summer gingers, a handful of avocets and rather a lot of oystercatchers. There were also a few wigeon and teal over there together with a couple of whooper swans and a handful of pink-footed geese. I scanned round the gulls to make sure they really were all black-headed and found a pair of Mediterranean gulls.

Mediterranean gulls and black-headed gulls, Martin Mere

There were reed buntings on the feeders by the Raine's Observatory but though I could hear tree sparrows I was blowed if I could see them. I might have been hearing them from their nest boxes, there's a couple of dozen of them in the trees round here.

Martin Mere, the path to the Kingfisher and Ron Barker hides

I wandered down to the Kingfisher Hide where the feeders were busy with greenfinches and reed buntings and the bushes busy with blue tits, great tits and chaffinches. A blackcap sang from the undergrowth and a cock linnet sang from the top of one of the hawthorns.

Oxlips, Martin Mere

There was plenty on at the Rob Barker Hide, all of it distant. Three cattle egrets hobnobbed with the longhorn cattle a couple of fields away. Avocets, teal and shovelers loafed on the islands or fed in the distant shallows of the pools. A handful of wigeon grazed with the Canada geese on the banks and a heron patrolled the reed margins. A female marsh harrier made a cameo appearance and was roundly ignored by everything bar a couple of reed buntings.

As I strolled back the weather started to clear and I began to feel distinctly overdressed.

Common gull, Martin Mere

Shelduck, Martin Mere

I had a look at the mere from the screens where the Swan Link Hide used to be and found a common gull amongst the black-headed gulls.

The feeders on the Janet Keer Hide were dominated by greenfinches and goldfinches though a couple of tree sparrows managed to slip a few times. Down on the ground a couple of rats were constantly bullied off the fallen seed by mallards and moorhens.

The Harrier Hide 

Harrier Hide interior

The final stage was a visit to the Harrier Hide. It looks great but I think it's pretty lousy as a hide — there's a lot of unusable space and it's very uncomfortable. On the plus side it overlooks a big pool on the reedbeds that attracts a different crowd to the mere, particularly diving birds such as pochards, tufted ducks and grebes. No sign of any grebes today but the pochards and tufties were there.

Tarlscough Lane 

As I left Martin Mere the flock of pink-feet feeding on the field across the road rose and fell in the distance. The change of angle as I walked down the road let me see them over the rise in the field and as far as I could tell they were all pink-feet. I walked down into Burscough Bridge hoping to see partridges or corn buntings along the way but having no luck at all. The corn bunting population round here definitely seems to have fallen, it wasn't so long ago I could guarantee three or four singing birds between Curlew Lane and Burscough.

On Red Cat Lane 

For all that I hadn't walked all that far, perhaps six miles, I felt tired by the time I just missed the train at Burscough Bridge and was glad of the opportunity to sit down and watch the goings-on in the rookery for twenty minutes. A grey partridge I spotted in a field near Hoscar kept the year list ticking over.

Davyhulme

Goldcrest

I spent most of the morning catching up with the sleep I've not been getting this week. I evidently didn't miss much given the state of the rooftops and it carried on pouring down through lunchtime. The afternoon grew progressively clearer until it got to the point at teatime where I was asking myself if I planned on wasting such a nice afternoon. (The correct answer is: "Yes, if I want to," I have to make a conscious effort not to turn this pastime into a job.)

I've not taken a turn around Davyhulme Millennium Nature Reserve yet this year so I got the 15 to the stop before Woodsend Circle and wandered down Eddisbury Avenue to the reserve. There was a lot of twittering of sparrows and goldfinches in the hedgerows by the car park, explained when I spooked a male sparrowhawk that had been rummaging around in there. He flew off over the Ship Canal and the small birds hooted derision at both of us.

Davyhulme Millennium Nature Reserve

I can't seem to fall in love with this place. Perhaps it's too manicured and too obviously a corporate nature reserve (we can walk it by permission of United Utilities). Perhaps it's because it's fiddly to get to and doesn't lead on to anywhere so it's not a useful add-on to another walk. More likely it's because it's one of those walks that's just long enough to make you feel tired but not long enough to get your second wind and get into a walking rhythm. Which is a shame because for its size it's a very productive birdwatching walk.

Sparrowhawk

I spent a while christening a new camera card with a few "A goldcrest was here a moment ago" pictures. They are least were a bit more obliging than the great tits and blue tits that were bouncing round the same stand of trees under the cover of breaking buds. Robins, chiffchaffs and blackbirds kept up a steady background of song while woodpigeons and magpies bashed about in the treetops (yes, that is a euphemism).

A pair of kestrels rose in a synchronised display flight and slowly drifted over the canal. I thought they were back a few minutes later but it was a male sparrowhawk, probably the one I spooked earlier, and he slowly circled overhead before drifting back down to treetop height and heading off for the back gardens by the car park.

I carried on down the path with greenfinches, wrens and a coal tit joining in the songscape. As I passed a dense stand of dogwood a willow tit churred at me then went about it's business. I had a look at the canal through a gap in the trees, there was only the one mute swan on the water today.

Heron

I took the long loop down to the end of the reserve at Barton Locks. There's a little dock on this side of the canal just here and it's impossible to get an unimpeded view of it. Which is frustrating as I could see a pair of mallards, a cormorant and a black-headed gull sitting by one of the disused winches and it sounded like there was more to be seen behind the trees and concrete. A few herring gulls and lesser black-backs flew low over the locks, as did a pair of great black-backs which made a beeline for the little dock. A heron lurked on the sluice gates looking out for anything that had the misfortune to be caught in the overflow and cast into the shallow water at the base of the gates. I couldn't see what it was catching but it had two successful tries while I was watching it.

Blackthorn

I checked the ponds for frogspawn and found none, I've had no luck yet this year. I thought I'd found my first butterfly of the year but it turned out to be a day-flying moth of some kind. Try as I may most of my moth identification consists of my eliminating the ones I know it can't be, leaving me with a few score possibilities to choose from. This time last year I'd seen six species of butterflies, this year none. The strange stop-start warm and cold spells this month after a very warm February probably has a lot to do with it and the heavy rains won't have helped. It'll be a relief to finally see any.

Something else that was conspicuously missing were moorhens. It turned out they were playing peep-oh on the big pond near the entrance. The only long-tailed tits of the visit were in the shrubs by the pond and a reed bunting sang appropriately from the reeds. As I headed for the car park and the bus home a blackcap started singing from the scrub by an electricity pylon, which was a nice way to end the trip.

Davyhulme Millennium Nature Reserve

I'm going to have to put more of an effort into this site, I'm sure it'll be worth it on the end.

Redcar

Herring gulls, a great black-back, turnstones and a drake common eider

I thought I'd get the Transpennine Express to Redcar to do a bit of seawatching and use up the travel vouchers they gave me when they cancelled the trains on the last two attempts. You'll never guess what…

Luckily I was very early for the cancelled train so I could get the Newcastle train and change at Darlington for the local stopping train to Redcar. There's rail works at Stalybridge so the train was diverted via Sowerby Bridge, giving me a chance to put the nature reserve at Cromwell Bottom on my radar. I keep seeing reports from there, now I know where it is. The on-train birdwatching was consistent, mostly woodpigeons and corvids with plenty of gulls — black-headed near the tops and lesser black-backs over the lowlands — and nearly every mile of canal had its pair of Canada geese. There was a decent smattering of buzzards and kestrels and a red kite just outside Mirfield, these days it's not often I pass through this stretch of Yorkshire without seeing one.

Herring gulls

Sanderlings and herring gulls

It was high tide at Redcar beach and the weather was gloomy and windy but dry and surprisingly mild. A few dozen herring gulls loafed on the rocks by the lifeboat station with a great black-back and a couple of common eiders. Turnstones skittered all over the rocks and the steps at the base of the sea wall while sanderlings ran around the remaining sand like clockwork mice and a few redshanks foraged in the rock pools. An oystercatcher flew in to join the loafing crowd while a couple of others flew by. 

The sea was choppy and the tide was on the turn and I struggled to see anything sitting on the sea so I walked down the beach avoiding the roosting birds but constantly tripping over turnstones. Some cormorants flew by a few hundred yards out to sea and further out I could see herring gulls fishing with their hover and lunge actions, one of them flew in carrying a dab and made sure to land well away from hungry mouths to eat its prize.

Redcar Mudstones 

Gryphaea fossils

The rocks here are of special scientific interest, the Redcar Mudstones, an odd sort of shale which weathers to look like somebody's laid tarmac over the top (perhaps I'm just too used to much older shales which have had time to become brittle, these are Liassic rocks from the bottom of the Jurassic period and most of my geology was with Palaeozoic rocks). Every so often I'd trip over a layer of ancient oyster beds full of Gryphaea, "the Devil's toenails."

Herring gulls, eiders and common scoters, honestly

Partway down the beach I picked out a raft of common scoters and at least one velvet scoter which obligingly stretched its wings so I could see a flash of white. Then I noticed that not all of the white flecks on top of the sea were foam and spray, there was a raft of eiders out in the distance. I wandered down the beach, what I was gaining by getting closer I was losing by elevation — I was getting fairly good, albeit still distant, views of the birds when they crested the waves but most of the time they were out of sight. The drake eiders were easy enough to pick out, the ducks were dark blobs and every so often I'd mistake a raft of scoters for duck eiders and vice versa. What looked like a duck velvet scoter was with the eiders and that complicated things a bit. The tide started to ebb, letting the ducks linger slightly longer on the crests and giving me more of a chance of seeing what I was looking at.

I'd just come to the conclusion I wasn't going to see the king eider despite its having been reported here an hour previously when I spotted a something. There were a few not-quite-white-not-quite-dark birds in the raft, first-Winter drakes in monochrome patchwork starting to get their adult colours. One of them wasn't quite right, having an all-dark body and a pale but not white head. From this distance it looked grey, which isn't a colour common eiders go in for in any plumage. Then I lost it again in the waves. I found it again ten minutes later and wasn't much the wiser until I caught a touch of a brownish red tint from the front of its head and it was gone again. If I hadn't had king eider on my radar this would have been a what on earth was that bird, definitely something I hadn't seen before but a puzzle. 

I convinced myself I was just stringing myself along with a bit of wishful thinking and spent five minutes looking at turnstones and sanderlings to reset mind and brain before going back to the eiders. The tide had taken them and the scoters further out but I could still pick them out when they bobbed up in the waves. Drake eiders? check… duck eiders? check… black-and-white young drake eiders? check… big dark dreadnought of a duck that's probably a velvet scoter? check… and one duck that was black at the back and pale at the front. I gave it an hour but that was my best sighting of my first king eider, definitely a job for a telescope, the bins just couldn't do it.

A bit of a disappointing encounter with my first lifer of the year but they all count. It brings my British list up to 296 and the year list up to 141, comfortably on target for 200 at the end of the year.

I put a spurt on and managed to catch the train back to Manchester, which was actually running and got us back there, albeit half an hour late. Along the way the intermittent patches of late Spring sunshine brought out rabbits and roe deers in the fields. It was nice to get the bogeyman off my back, to be honest I was getting more of a thing about not arriving in Redcar than I was about seeing the bird. It was good to get both.

Redcar beach 

Orrell

Greenslate Water Meadows 

It wasn't a fit morning for going any further than the kitchen. The rain eased a little by lunchtime so I decided to go out for a walk round Orrell Water Park and Greenslate Water Meadows seeing as they're literally two minutes from the station and there's plenty of cover.

The rain eased off completely once I arrived in Orrell though it was a dark and gloomy afternoon. Robins, great tits and dunnocks sang at the station and I hadn't walked far before I'd added blackbirds, chiffchaffs and a song thrush to the soundscape. The park was very quiet of people and dogs today, which is probably just lucky timing on my part.

Orrell Water Park 

The lake was fairly quiet, pairs of mallard, mute swan, coot and moorhen lurked around the edges while a pair of great crested grebes performed synchronised swimming displays out in the middle. A few black-headed gulls flew in, squabbled and flew out and there was a steady passage of them overhead together with a few lesser black-backs, all heading towards the Wigan flashes.

Greenslate Water Meadows 

Greenslate Water Meadows was very busy with birds. Robins, chiffchaffs and nuthatches sang in the hedgerows with the occasional explosive burst from a wren or two. Blackbirds, song thrushes and chaffinches sang in the treetops when they weren't littering the paths and woodpigeons clattered about everywhere. The feeding station was well-attended by chaffinches, dunnocks and moorhens and a few great tits and greenfinches. The blue tits and coal tits were more shy and I could hear a willow tit escorting me away from the area but I was blowed if I could see it. Walking round there were long-tailed tits, goldcrests and goldfinches bouncing round the taller treetops with blue tits and woodpigeons and a couple of carrion crows sang a love duet.

I completed a long circuit of the water park and headed back to the station. I'd been lucky with the weather and there had been plenty enough birdlife to see and hear. As I waited for the train great tits, chiffchaffs and woodpigeons joined the station chorus and a couple of wrens had a singing match under the road bridge. Not bad for a miserable sort of day.

Sefton

Pink-footed geese, Crossens Marsh

It was set out to be a bright, if cool, sunny day so I headed out to Southport for a wander round Marshside and Crossens Marsh to see what was about. The day had started with a male blackcap slipping into the crowd of spadgers on the fat feeder in the back garden so I took this as a good omen.

I dawdled on my preparation and nearly missed the train into Manchester then forgot that these days the Southport train goes from platform 5, not 2, and nearly missed that and I wondered what else I'd be missing during the day. Despite these mishaps it was a straightforward journey and I found myself walking down Marshside Road to a soundscape of blackbirds, robins, herring gulls and great tits. The clouds had rolled in as the train made its way across Lancashire and there was a cold edge to the wind which made me glad I'd put my raincoat on.

Shelduck, Marshside

Marshside from Marshside Road 

Flocks of starlings billowed across the marsh which was covered with birds. Large family groups of pink-footed geese grazed; teal, mallards, wigeons and gadwalls dabbled in the extensive puddles; lapwings, oystercatchers, redshanks and black-tailed godwits fed on the grass and the mud while little egrets, a heron and a pair of tufted ducks joined the mute swans, coots and moorhens in the drains. Further out there were pairs of shelducks and Canada geese. All the while I was walking down the road more geese, godwits and ducks passed to and fro overhead together with noisy parties of black-headed gulls and herring gulls.

Pintails, Marshside

The water was high on Junction pool, which suited the mallards, teal and pintails on it very well as they dabbled in the flooded grassy margins.

There was a lot of birdsong coming from the trees in the sandplant, a robin and a chiffchaff managing to make themselves heard over a song thrush and a couple of wrens with a dunnock joining in the quiet bits. There were more wrens in what remains of the cover by the path towards Sandgrounders.

Black-tailed godwit and ruffs, Marshside

There wasn't a lot on the pool by the side of Sandgrounders, just a lot of Canada geese and a pair of great black-backs. The pools at Sandgrounders were considerably busier with pintails, teal and mallards. A handful of ruffs mixed in with the waders and wigeon on the wet grass. Pairs of Canada geese bickered and a group of tufted ducks that had been minding their own business found themselves caught in the middle as two geese barged through in a flurry of wings, honks and hisses.

Shelduck and avocets, Marshside

Walking down towards Crossens Marsh as the clouds rolled by and the sun started to make its mark there was more of the same. I spotted a small group of avocets in one of the pools and a couple more flew in with some godwits. There were a couple of pairs in the pools in the outer marsh. Judging by the number of heads on sentry go there were a couple of hundred pink-feet in the long grass out there. A working party looked to have been busy with chainsaws and strimmers. I still haven't worked out what was achieved by all the hacking about on Marshside Road bar the loss of a couple of whitethroat territories, still less on this stretch. There was still enough bushes about for a couple of pairs of greenfinches and goldfinches but not a lot of cover for birdwatchers looking over the marsh. On the plus side, the stand of Japanese knotweed has finally been levelled, they must have got bored with hawthorns.

Skylarks, Crossens Marsh

Pink-footed geese, Crossens Marsh

There were yet more pink-feet on Crossens Outer Marsh as I crossed the road, so close that it was difficult not to disturb them as I walked by. I spent a while scanning the crowds — there was about a hundred geese scattered about in family groups near the road and thousands more further out. I tried as best I could with the distant birds but all that weren't pink-feet were Canada geese. Skylarks foraged in the grass in small groups, occasionally set upon by a singing male when they got too far into his patch. There were a lot of meadow pipits, too, but linnets were thin on the ground. A male stonechat took to a treetop to give me the eyeball before flying down into a hawthorn bush to give a reed bunting a hard time. The bunting retreated into deep cover, probably wondering what has hit it and why.

Stonechat, Crossens Marsh

Pink-footed geese, part of the distant crowd, Crossens Marsh

Redshank, Crossens Marsh

I spent a while stopping and scanning through the flocks of geese, very conscious that the year list's shy of barnacle geese and the Todd's Canada goose that's on its umpteenth return visit to the marsh has eluded me this Winter. No luck, but worth a go and hundreds of pink-footed geese are always a joy to the spirits. It's always difficult to identify waders when they're flying at you head on, unless they're very big or very small it's difficult to gauge the size and you don't have useful clues like the length of the bill or legs. This is my excuse for not being able to identify a golden plover until it rose just about my head and flew over the road into Crossens Inner Marsh to join the only other golden plover of the day. The very muddy patch of grass just beyond the wildfowlers' pull-in was heaving with meadow pipits and pied wagtails. And a water pipit coming into its breeding plumage with grey on its head and pink on its breast. It was very mobile and all my attempts at record shots were shockingly bad. The meadow pipits varied a lot, ranging from bright golden birds to cool grey and white, neither extreme looking like the pictures you usually see in the guide books.

Water pipit, bottom right, Crossens Marsh
Despite the bad photography you can get some idea of the grey head and pinkish breast.

Crossens Outer Marsh 

I walked into Crossens and seeing as there was hours of daylight yet to come I caught the 49 into Ainsdale and had a walk round Ainsdale Dunes in the sunshine. Robins, chiffchaffs and dunnocks sang in the bushes and trees out in the open while great tits, blue tits and blackbirds quietly foraged in the undergrowth. 

Ainsdale Dunes 

Ainsdale Dunes 

I decided to take the path into the woods and have a nosy about. There were yet more robins, dunnocks and chiffchaffs joined by singing chaffinches, coal tits and great tits. Goldcrests and long-tailed tits bounced about in the trees and a great spotted woodpecker tapped at a rotten trunk on a willow. I sat by the pool for ten minutes and watched the mallards, coots and moorhens patrolling the banks while a cormorant cruised midwater.

Ainsdale Dunes 

I wended my weary way over to Ainsdale Station in time to just miss the train to Southport. I got into Southport with plenty of time for the train home. It had been a long and productive day's birdwatching. One of the advantages of British Summer Time is the space to have a breather and then move on to another patch and still finish in daylight.

Stonechat, Crossens Marsh

Blackleach Country Park

Canada goose flying over for a fight, Blackleach Country Park 

Now that I've removed half the rambling rose from the back garden I've got a better idea of why the fat balls are disappearing at a tidy rate. I've been assuming that the spadgers have been coming in a dozen at a time, they've actually been coming in two dozen at a time. The great tits and long-tailed tits are coming in one at a time which suggests they're on a nesting rota, unlike the blue tits which are travelling in threes at the moment. The singing male chaffinch has been joined at the feeders by a female, which bodes well. A chiffchaff has visited a few times but is probably just passing through. The blackcap that had been singing at the railway station seems to have moved on.

The blackbirds start their dawn chorus just after four in the morning, joined an hour later by a carrion crow and a couple of woodpigeons, the robin and collared dove don't kick in until daybreak. In between time flocks of gulls pass overhead each morning. I've no idea how many birds are involved but most mornings I'll hear lesser black-backs calling, less often I'll be able to pick out a herring gull passing by. Yesterday a flock of black-headed gulls flew North and twice this week I've heard a Mediterranean gull. It's frustrating not being able to see them, I don't know if it's ones and twos of birds or whole squadrons. 

I spent the whole morning havering about whether/where to go for a walk on a bright and breezy day. I was set to spend the afternoon doing the same so I dragged myself out by the scruff of the neck and headed for the year's first visit to Blackleach Country Park. It will surprise the reader not one bit to find the clouds rolled over and the bus had hardly got as far as Eccles when it started pouring down. I got the 22 from the Trafford Centre into Kearsley, got off at Melville Road and walked down through the little industrial estate on Lyon Road and over the motorway bridge into the country park. I have to say, intimidating though it looked at first sight it's a much better route than the footpath I've used whenever I've come up this way to catch the 22 after a visit to the park.

Treecreeper, Blackleach Country Park 

The trees by the motorway were buzzing with small birds, mostly blue tits working their way through the insects visiting the willow catkins. Pairs of great tits and dunnocks bounced about the undergrowth, robins and wrens and a chiffchaff sang and blackbirds skittered about the paths. A couple of treecreepers showed well, the coal tits and long-tailed tits needed looking for.

Walking through the woods

Approaching the lake

Walking towards the lake there were clouds of — mercifully! — non-biting midges. When I got to the lake it became apparent there was a mass emergence going on, dozens of black-headed gulls and coots were sitting on the water snapping up midges as they took to the air. As the wind blew the heavy clouds away awhile the sun came out the birds got busier.

Coot, Blackleach Country Park 

Coot, Blackleach Country Park 

A pair of great crested grebes lurked about the reed fringes where a reed bunting was singing lustily. The first ducks I noticed were a pair of gadwall, there were a dozen or so each of mallards and tufted ducks over on the other side. A couple of dozen black-headed gulls clamoured for scraps over by the jetty where a family was feeding a few Canada geese. I noticed that a couple of last year's mute swan cygnets hadn't been chased away by their parents.

Mallard, Blackleach Country Park 

Although there were Canada geese and mallards loafing on some of the rafts nothing yet looked to be nesting. A couple of cormorants, a juvenile and an adult carbo male with fine white quills in his head feathers dozed in the sun. (I could tell it was the nominate carbo subspecies because the yellow throat pouch had a roughly square shape against the white of the throat; it's an acute angle in the continental sinensis subspecies. We get both in this country, sinensis tending to stay inland.)

Scrapping Canada geese, Blackleach Country Park 

A couple of pairs of Canada geese decided to have a fight, one pair flying over special for it. There was a lot of aggressive hissing with their tongues fully extended and a couple indulged in a spot of neck wrestling before they settled down into passively aggressively cruising round each other.

Blackleach Country Park 

I completed the walk round the lake, bumping into the goldfinches, greenfinches and chaffinches in the open parkland that were notably absent in the woods, then got the 37 bus into Manchester and thence home.

Barton Clough 

It had become a sunny teatime so I stopped off for half an hour's wander round my local patch as the birds started to settle down to roost or sing in the bedtime chorus.

• Black-headed Gull 3 overhead 
• Blackbird 8
• Blue Tit 3
• Carrion Crow 3
• Chaffinch 2
• Chiffchaff 1
• Dunnock 2
• Goldcrest 1
• Goldfinch 4
• Great Tit 5
• Greenfinch 8
• House Sparrow 4
• Lesser Black-backed Gull 4 overhead
• Magpie 10
• Mistle Thrush 1
• Robin 4
• Song Thrush 1
• Starling 3
• Woodpigeon 49
• Wren 4

Lostock Park