Third time lucky

Blackbird, Stretford

The day started with another influx of blackbirds in the back garden. The spadgers descended on the feeders mob-handed and blue tits, great tits and long-tailed tits bounced about in the trees.

It was pouring down and cold with it so rather than letting the weather spoil a nice walk I thought I'd have another crack at finding the firecrest at Dukinfield Park, driven by the flurry of reports of it over the weekend. I got a bowl of porridge down me and headed off yet again for Hyde North. At Humphrey Park I decided the first singing blackcap of the year was a portent of good luck. It got wetter en route so I got the 330 into Dukinfield from the station rather than walk the mile in the rain. I was in luck, the rain eased as I got off the bus and crossed the road and into the park.

Dukinfield Park 

The now-familiar collection of pigeons, woodpigeons, carrion crows and squirrels foraged about the park. Greenfinches, chaffinches and goldfinches bounced around the treetops and blackbirds and robins rummaged about the flower beds. I got to the bowling green and found plenty of great tits, blue tits and long-tailed tits in the trees by the path. A couple of goldcrests in a cypress got my blood racing. I bumped into a fellow birdwatcher and asked if he'd had any luck. He'd been looking for a couple of hours and kept finding lots of very confiding goldcrests. I warned him to keep away from me as I'd had two goes with no joy, we argued as to which of us was the bigger jinx but nonetheless each promised to let on to the other if we found it.

I had a wander down the path, constantly distracted and frustrated by titmice and goldcrests. A couple of coal tits added a bit of variety. We'd both of us drifted to the back of the bowling green and were looking at the same group of trees when I spotted something. Before I had the chance of say: "Goldcrest" to myself I noticed the golden green shoulders and armpits. Firecrest! It hovered under some larch cones, giving me a brief good view, including the silver white face with black eye stripe. I gesticulated wildly, scaring many small dogs in the process, and caught the other chap's eye. He was on the other side of the trees so while he managed to see the firecrest before it flew off he mostly saw it in silhouette against a white sky. It landed in the holly trees behind us where it spent a few minutes giving tantalising fleeting glimpses as it bounced about the foliage and hovering about the ends of twigs. It then flew off into the trees on the other side of the bowling green where we lost sight of it. Eventually I gave it up, wishing the chap good luck on getting a better view (he tells me he did later on when the firecrest returned to the hollies).

I've never in my life found a firecrest that I've gone looking for, I've only ever tripped over them by accident (and the last of those thirty-four years ago I find when I check my records). 

I got back to Hyde North where I had the choice of waiting five minutes for the train to Rose Hill Marple or half an hour for the train back to Manchester. I decided to head off to Marple, if the weather behaved I could have a look at mandarin ducks in Etherow Country Park, if not I could have a quick nosy at Brabyns Park then go home. It was pouring down so Brabyns Park it was. I got the 375 to Mellor, getting off at Marple Bridge and walking down. A possible contender for the last mixed tit flock of the Winter bounced around the trees by the pond: half a dozen blue tits, a pair of great tits and a coal tit. A couple of moorhens and three blackbirds fed in the grass by the pool and a song thrush sang in the car park. Having satisfied my deep-seated need to get cold and wet I headed for Marple Station for the train back to Manchester and thence home. There are worse ways of spending a day of dismal weather.