Pennington Flash

Black tern and herring gull

After a good night's sleep I should have been ready for a full day's birdwatching but spent the morning dithering about and achieving not very much. So it was lunchtime before I set out for Pennington Flash. And mid-afternoon by the time I finally arrived after the 126 was diverted from the motorway and had to go through Barton and the length of Worsley Road then hit roadworks in Boothstown.

A particularly fidgety coal tit

Walking in from St Helens Road the hedgerows were busy with birds. Robins, blackbirds and wrens sang, woodpigeons cooed and magpies chattered and shrieked. A coal tit was too busy collecting food to be bothered with people and I spent a minute getting lots of photos of where it was a moment ago and struggling with a very close focus on the big lens. A family of great tits were impossible to photograph as much because they made sure they kept a leaf between themselves and the lens as their manic bouncing around in the hawthorns.

Elder blossom

There wasn't a single bird on the brook. It was running at half speed and didn't have any of the usual shoals of minnows either.

Mistle thrush

A mistle thrush fed on the lawn before the car park. It wasn't bothered by passersby until it noticed I'd stopped to watch it as it pounced on beetles and spiders and was trying to get a photo. Instead of the usual rattling flight it crouched into the grass until I put the camera down. It carried on as before and I left it to it.

Mute swan

The car park was busy with people and Canada geese. A few mallards and a couple of mute swans joined them in begging for bread. A few more mallards and a Muscovy duck dozed on the bank of the flash. There weren't many gulls about though the black-headed gulls tried to make up by noise what they lacked in numbers. A dozen or so each of herring gulls and lesser black-backs loafed on the water over by the sailing club, reluctantly moving out of the way whenever a yacht sailed by.

Black tern

There didn't look to be any swifts or hirundines hawking over the water, probably disturbed by the boats. Three distant dark shapes caught my eye as they swooped around taking not a bit of notice of them. Too big to be swifts, they soon came close enough in mid-water for me to be sure they were black terns. They didn't get any closer and I struggled to get any record shots. This must have been the start of a passage, I reported these at half three, there was a report of six three hours later and eleven were reported at dusk. The accident of being in the right place at the right time is a feature of birdwatching that still delights and frustrates.

I didn't get any better a view of the terns from the Horrocks Hide though I did spot a few swifts and sand martins feeding very high above the flash. Mallards, lapwings and coots loafed and fidgeted on the spit, black-headed gulls squabbled on the rafts in the bight and a few great crested grebes cruised about. A couple of gadwall were starting their post-breeding moult and will probably be disappearing soon to join the annual flock of hundreds on Woolston Eyes.

The path from the Horrocks Hide 

A couple of blackcaps and chiffchaffs sang in the trees on the way to the Tom Edmondson Hide. A Cetti's warbler sang by the reedy pool next to the Horrocks Hide while the usual individual sang from the pool opposite Tom Edmondson's with a reed warbler and a reed bunting.

From the Tom Edmondson Hide 

The couple of herons on the pool at Tom Edmondson's were hidden by the reeds when they weren't squabbling with each other. Pairs of gadwall and mallard drifted about while coot chicks kept their parents busy. I kept hoping for a kingfisher to turn up but it didn't happen. "I've not seen a jay on this pool for a while," I thought to myself and lo, one flew in and rummaged in the trees by the side. I concentrated very hard on a mental picture of a blue-cheeked bee-eater but I'd had my wish for the day.

Lapwing chick

The pool at Ramsdales was very quiet save the distant calls of black-headed gulls and a couple of common terns that flew onto the flash. A couple of pairs of lapwings fed as they kept an eye on their tiny youngsters running about on the mud.

Lapwing parent

I could — and should — have carried on having a wander but my eyes were feeling the strain of all that glare and I keep having to remind myself this is a pastime not a job. I dawdled back to the bus stop, had fifty-five minutes to wait for a 126 so waited for the 34 and got back to the Trafford Centre via a change of bus in Eccles. Actually seeing rather than only hearing so many of the small birds in the hedgerows had surprised me as much as the arrival of the black terns.

Bradshaw Leach Meadow 

Sandbach

Trent and Mersey Canal 

Today's planned outing was an ambitious one so to be on the safe side I set my alarm, something I do about three times a year. Unfortunately my body clock is as impatient as the rest of me and I was awake before the alarm, a good four hours before the alarm in fact. I scotched the plan and managed to steal another half hour's sleep later in the morning so I didn't feel as entirely wrecked as I had at half seven. So I had a very early lunch and a think about what to do with another sunny May day. 

The plan for getting over the usual June and July slump when all the small birds go undercover for the post-breeding moult is to catch up with places I've not visited for a while, plus a few new places I've got in mind. So I brought one of them forward and headed out for an afternoon's wander round the Sandbach Flashes.

I got the train to Sandbach and headed South, walking down Moston Road, bobbing under the railway bridge and over the canal then down Hall Road, turning down Clay Lane for the flashes. (I could have waited for the 317 bus which passed me just before the bus stop on Hall Road but to be honest it's not worth the bother given it only gets you halfway along the journey.) Hall Road was a lot busier than I remember it being; luckily there's a wide grass verge by the golf driving range so there's only a couple of stretches, each about a hundred yards, that are a bit scary.

Most of the singing in the hedgerows was done by chaffinches with backing vocals by chiffchaffs and blackbirds. A couple of blackcaps sang in the trees and families of blue tits and great tits churred in the undergrowth.

Mute swans, herring gulls and lesser black-backs
Elton Hall Flash 

Reaching Elton Hall Flash I was struck by the hundred or so large gulls, about equal numbers of herring gulls and lesser black-backs, loafing on the gravel banks. A herd of swans cruised about, mallards dabbled and a dozen lapwings mooched about. A couple of mallards had ducklings with them, as did a couple of pairs of shelducks.

Elton Hall Flash 

On the way down to Sandbach I noticed a report of a night heron roosting in the trees by the Pumphouse Flash, that's the flash furthest down the lane, so I headed for that. There's a footpath into the field by the flash and there was a small group of people standing a way down by some trees so I headed their way.  Along the way I had to dance around some young bullocks that wanted to get a drink from the pool at the side but didn't want me walking between them and the grazing on the field which was very much like having to tiptoe round the cat when I'm trying to put her bowl done but about two tons heavier. Luckily it turned out that they were an amiable bunch and I got past them without any hassle.

Pumphouse Flash 

As I got to the group one of them was explaining to a couple of the others where to find the night heron. It turned out to be easier than I'd expected, it was showing quite well though it was too distant for any of my photos to be any good even as record shots. There were a lot of trees and shrubs in full leaf but it had decided to lurk by some dead branches. It's been a remarkable Spring for them.

I was puzzled for a long while by a white blob deep under some bushes about halfway between the night heron and the road. In the end I cheated and took some photos and zoomed into them on the screen on the back of my camera. It was a drake shoveler almost dug into the bank for a sleep. I'd noticed a duck shoveler nearby and wondered where the drake was but it hadn't occurred to me to join the dots. I'll blame lack of sleep for that bit of poor fieldcraft.

Joining the path off the road

Elton Hall Flash 

I wandered back, taking the little path between Elton Hall Flash and the road to see what else was about. The Canada geese seemed to be unpaired and there were no goslings about. A Cetti's warbler sang briefly from the reeds by the Pumphouse Flash while a sedge warbler sang from the rough across the road. I looked in vain for any waders that weren't lapwings.

Trent and Mersey Canal 

I made my way back but instead of going back up Moston Road I walked up the canal to Platt Lane then down Moss Lane back to the station. There weren't many birds on the canal, just a family of mallards, but plenty in the hedgerows and the fields over by Watchlane Flash. Goldfinches, house sparrows and greenfinches twitted about while there was a steady traffic of crows, jackdaws and woodpigeons overhead. The young blackcaps churring at me from an elder bush were so young their caps were still dusty brownish grey and hadn't yet taken on the rich caramel brown hues of juvenile plumage. 

Looking towards Red Lane

A buzzard flying round the trees by Red Lane was harassed by jackdaws until it moved on to Platt Lane where it was harassed by carrion crows. Having moved the buzzard along the crows returned to the trees by the canal where a lot of noisy cawing from their youngsters sounded unnervingly like a victory celebration.

I only had ten minutes to wait for the train back. I seriously considered stopping off at Chelford to have a look at the common scoter that's been at Mere Farm Quarry the past few days. I've got this site on my list of places I need to explore. Realistically, I was tired and I'd just done five miles' road walking so I decided not to push my luck. It had been a good afternoon's wander in very pleasant weather, it would have been a shame to spoil it.

Salford

Goosanders

I noticed that I haven't seen any goosanders this month. That's easily rectified so I had a Bank Holiday Monday wander along the Irwell from the city centre to Salford Crescent.

Goosanders

Sure enough, goosanders there were. My first thought was that there were fewer than usual, my second thought was that it's nearly Summer and all the pairs are dispersed along the river and the reason they looked thin on the ground on the gravel banks was that all the youngsters are still only half-sized.

Goosanders

Canada goose, mallard and goosanders

Goosanders

Pairs of mallards cruised the river though I only saw one family of ducklings, a dozen tiddlers on the curve at Salford Crescent. Small numbers of Canada geese loafed in the shallows with a couple of herons and a pair of mute swans stopped strangers and asked for food at Peel Park. 

Heron

Lesser black-backs are the default gull in the city centre in Summer and there were plenty of them loafing and preening in the shoals on the river. A few black-headed gulls flew about, too, all adults returning from disappointing love lives.

Heron

A wander round The Meadows found a few robins and blue tits rummaging round in the undergrowth and a singing blackcap in one of the maple trees. Half a dozen sand martins flew downstream, following the twists and turns of the river as they zigzagged from side to side low over the banks. I kept hearing grey wagtails but couldn't see them, the pied wagtails I heard made themselves nicely conspicuous just to keep my morale up.

River Irwell, Salford 

Leighton Moss

Mute cygnets

Today was another sunny Summer day so I got myself an old man's explorer ticket and headed out to Leighton Moss for a few hours' wander. I thought I'd best get this month's visit in before the bank holiday weekend. I had thought of going yesterday but news broke late on Wednesday night that a squacco heron had been seen there and I really didn't want to get involved in yesterday's twitch. A good decision on two fronts: the heron had moved on almost as soon as it was identified and the hides were uncomfortably warm and busy today so they must have been hell yesterday.

Objectively the reserve wasn't especially busy today but it felt uncomfortably busy with human noise, possibly because bar the occasional reed warbler or sedge warbler madly reeling in the reeds or the slightly more frequent explosion of a Cetti's warbler in the undergrowth by the paths the bird life was pretty quiet. A chiffchaff called a few times in the trees by the visitor centre, a couple of willow warblers trilled in those on the reedbed margins and a song thrush sang from some distant trees on the railway line. Even the noise of the nesting black-headed gulls was muted and a bit dozy.

From Lilian's Hide 

The gulls on Lilian's pool were either nest-sitting or muttering in their sleep, and sometimes both. A small flock of greylags flew in and cruised the far end. A pair of mute swans did a tour of the pool with their cygnets. Four-spotted and broad-bodied chasers hawked low over the reeds in front of the hide.

Drowned willows
I promise you there's a pool of water under all that willow cotton

Walking down into the reedbed everything was covered in a thick patina of willow cotton, looking like nothing so much as a school production of a haunted house mystery where the kids had a fight over who was in charge of the talcum powder. It was quite eerie, especially in the bright sunlight and with no sounds save the hubhubs in the hides. Blue tits, robins and wrens quietly fossicked about in the bushes. It wasn't until I got home I realised I'd not seen a great tit on this visit, a definite first after thirty-odd years.

The sky above the reedbeds was blue and birdless, not even a passing swift or hirundine. The path was awash with common blue damselflies, basking in the sunlight and darting off just at the last moment as I tried to avoid stepping on any of them.

Oystercatchers

There were a couple of dozen gadwall loafing on the pool by the Tim Jackson Hide. A couple of pairs of coots had tiny squeaking chicks begging for tidbits. A pair of oystercatchers were nesting on one corner of the roof of the sand martin box (which the sand martins still haven't discovered). A black-headed gull sitting on its nest on the opposite corner wasn't impressed and any time one of them crossed the halfway mark on the roof it yelled until they went back to their side.

Great black-backs

As I approached the Griesdale Hide a lady told me I'd just missed a fly-by bittern, which seems to be the pattern for me this year. The great black-backs are back on the osprey platform, the male on guard duty as the female sits. A heron flew in and started to feed on the pool by the side of the hide and a couple of little egrets flew by. A marsh harrier soared high over the reedbeds, drifting away from us all the while.

Blue-tailed damselfly

The reedbeds felt a little busier on my way back. A reed bunting sang from one of the willows and wrens sang in the reeds with the warblers. Another little egret flew overhead, as did a handful of black-headed gulls and a couple of woodpigeons. There were blue-tailed damselflies by Griesdale Hide and broad-bodied chasers patrolled the willow margins. I kept hoping to bump into a marsh tit somewhere along the way but it wasn't to be today.

Broad-bodied chaser

Walking back through the reedbeds

I didn't feel like walking round to the causeway or hiking over to the coastal hides. I'm going to have to go to the coastal hides first on my next visit here, I get too grumpy to want to bother when I leave them to last.

The next trains in either direction were cancelled, and the next after that were running late due to having unscheduled stops at intermediate stations to pick up the stranded, so rather than wallowing in my grumpiness for another hour and a half I got the bus to Carnforth then the bus into Lancaster and the train home except it was cancelled on arrival at Preston and I had to switch to the train jam full of people going home after a day out at Blackpool. I weighed up the pros and cons of various ways of milking a bit of extra value out of the old man's explorer ticket and decided to just go with the flow so I found a corner to sit in and headed home.

One of my grumpier days, I'm afraid, and the birdwatching was disappointing.

Southport

Avocets and Canada goslings, Marshside

I suppose the day started at quarter to one when I had to break up a fight between the cat I live with and the one from down the road over a bowl of cat food one of the hedgehogs was tucking into while the cats were otherwise engaged. It had to be uphill from there.

I travelled out to Southport, the trains behaving themselves, and didn't have long to wait for the 44 to Marshside. It was going to be a bright, dry day and I was due a wander round Marshside and Crossens Marsh. It stayed a bright, if occasionally cloudy, day but the strong breeze blowing in from the sea made it a cool one.

Little egret, Marshside

The scores of starlings shadowed by hungry youngsters were a conspicuous and vocal feature of the walk down Marshside Road and the hundreds more of them on the marsh a feature of the day. Dotted about on the marsh were families of Canada geese and greylags, pairs of redshanks and lapwings with invisible youngsters somewhere in the grass and loafing mallards and shelducks. A few little egrets fossicked in the drains, much to the annoyance of the moorhens and coots, and squadrons of swifts and handfuls of house martins hawked overhead. It's good to see good-sized flocks of swifts again even if I am starting to worry about the hirundines.

The bulk of the noise was provided by black-headed gulls. The colony's smaller than it was when I first started visiting here but it is still very vocal. For all the noise they were making I didn't see a great many youngsters and they all quite young. Which might be why they were making a noise.

I had a quick look at the Junction Pool to see if the pair of black swans were about. I'm told they have five cygnets. I couldn't see them today, I think they must have gone over to the Hesketh Road side of the marsh.

Common blue, Marshside

The fierce wind was keeping the butterflies under cover. A handful of common blues doggedly held onto whatever anchorages they could find as they tried to feed on the lee of the low roadside bank. I couldn't see any signs of the bee orchids that were here last year, I hope they've not been tidied away.

The pools by Sandgrounders were busy even without the heaving numbers of wigeon and geese of Winter. A few pairs of wigeon lingered, as did a dozen black-tailed godwits most of which were in their Summer gingers. 

Avocets, Marshside

The adult avocets made themselves very conspicuous as their chicks fed by themselves a little way away. There were dozens of both which is very gratifying. The adults are phenomenally aggressive against anything which might possibly be a threat or against any bird that happened to look their way. Anything larger than a sparrow could be a target; house martins, redshanks and shelducks getting a lot of aggro. The starlings were let off Scott free, probably because their sheer weight of numbers would exhaust even an avocet's energies. This aggression came in useful a few times, I'd be wondering what a distant silhouetted wader would be, it doggedly facing the wrong way to get a good idea of the size and shape of body or bill, then pow! along would come an avocet and it would be a redshank.

Avocets, Marshside

Both curlew sandpipers and little stints had been reported from Sandgrounders this week but I had no luck. They could have been there and I just didn't see them, I was surprised a couple of time by little ringed plovers walking across what I was sure was deserted mud.

Coot and young, Marshside

I walked down to Crossens beside the Marine Drive. The pools on the outer marsh were already dry with just a few patches of mud for redshanks to fossick about. The pools on the inner marsh still had plenty of water in them, enough for tufted ducks to be able to keep out of the way of avocets on the drain margins. 

Something brought up the waders on Polly's Pool. I couldn't see the culprit but I noticed amongst the redshanks, lapwings and godwits there were a couple of smaller waders. They settled on a small lump of mud by a bank but were too distant to identify and I guessed they were probably dunlins but couldn't be sure. A little further along the curve in the path changed the perspective and I could get a very slightly better view of one of them. My suspicion that it might be a little stint was confirmed when a passing avocet chick provided a useful scale. I very rarely see little stints on Spring passage, I usually only see adults in their rather muted Winter plumage or first-Winter birds with conspicuous braces, without the avocet's confirming the tiny size of the stint I really would have struggled. At that distance I couldn't convincingly judge the bill length.

Marshside Inner Marsh 

Crossens Outer Marsh was dry, a haunt of woodpigeons and starlings. The unexpected terrace of buildings on the horizon turned out to be a herd of cattle distorted by the heat haze. A kestrel hovered far out on the salt marsh and a distant marsh harrier was harassed by black-headed gulls.

Crossens Inner Marsh 

Crossens Inner Marsh was busy with families of avocets, lapwings, shelducks and geese. A herd of mute swans cruised about and black-headed gulls bathed in the pool by the water treatment works.

Garganey, Crossens Inner Marsh

I turned onto the bund and walked down the back of the Inner Marsh, both the sun and the wind fiercely in my face. A mixed flock of swifts and house martins hawked low over the water works and the marsh, joined after a while by a handful of swallows. A drake garganey was fast asleep on the pool close to the bund. It did well to find a spot far enough away from the avocets not to be bothered by them. A few lesser black-backs drifted in and given reason to quickly drift out again. A kestrel flew in and beat a retreat pursued by a dozen avocets and a couple of lapwings.

Avocet chick, Crossens Inner Marsh

Avocet and chick, Crossens Inner Marsh

When I reached the cut by the primary school I dropped down from the bund and got the bus back into Southport with ten minutes to spare for the train home. Summer at Marshside and Crossens Marsh isn't as spectacular as Winter but so long as the marshes don't dry out completely there's plenty about to see.

Marshside 

Mersey Valley

Great crested grebes, Chorlton Water Park

It had been a rough old night's sleep and I wasn't feeling up to the early start required for today's planned jaunt so I ended up having an early lunch then another pot of tea, then another, then I decided I shouldn't waste another decent day's weather, which then occasioned the usual dithering about as to where to go. 

In the end, by accident more than foresight, I got the 101 from town and got off on Princess Parkway just before Merseybank Fields. I walked down to the river and walked along the Lancashire bank into Chorlton with a diversionary wander round Chorlton Water Park and Barlow Tip along the way.

River Mersey going under Princess Parkway 

The walk down to the river was busy with blackbirds, wrens and chiffchaffs despite the heavy traffic alongside. Four drake mallards dozed on the river and blackbirds and robins sang from the trees on the Cheshire bank.

Heron, River Mersey, Chorlton

Passing under Princess Parkway there were more mallards on the river and a heron fishing on the rapids. Woodpigeons and parakeets flew in and out of Kenworthy Woods and a pair of carrion crows bounced about the far bank. Chiffchaffs, robins and blackcaps sang from both sides of the river. Brimstones and banded demoiselles fluttered about on the bank by the path.

Great crested grebe, Chorlton Water Park

For all that it was a warm, sunny afternoon Chorlton Water Park wasn't silly busy. The waterfowl were thin on the water, the last of the wintering birds having moved on and most of the mallards having business elsewhere. A few Canada geese called from the islands, a few more cruised the open water. Pairs of great crested grebes didn't seem to have any youngsters with them, the mute swans had half a dozen chunky cygnets in tow.

Mallard, Chorlton Water Park

I paused before walking on to Barlow Tip to watch a bloke make a complete Horlicks of getting an e-bike through the pedestrian kissing gate to the river. I didn't know it at the time but it was a sign of things to come.

Male common blue damselfly, Barlow Tip

Barlow Tip was awash with damselflies, mostly common blue damsels with a few blue-tailed to keep me on my toes. I still get confused by the females of both and have to keep checking references to know what I'm looking at. Brimstones patrolled the brambles patches and orange tips the rides. 

Female common blue damselfly, Barlow Tip

The birds were plentiful but mostly hidden in the leaf cover. Chiffchaffs and song thrushes sang from the trees and whitethroats from the ground cover under hawthorn bushes. Waves of small flocks of swifts and hirundines — a handful of swallows and perhaps a couple of dozen house martins in three flocks — wheeled overhead and drifted downriver.

The walk down to Jackson's Boat was punctuated by loutish behaviour by passing e-cyclists, the worst of Chorlton's cycling fraternity seems to have decided it's not worth working up a sweat just to cut up pedestrians on footpaths. Mallards and Canada geese loafed on the river banks, swallows hawked low over, sometimes dipping their beaks for a drink. Chiffchaffs, robins and wrens sang in the hedgerow and woodpigeons clattered about in the trees.

At Jackson's Boat a song thrush and a chiffchaff chased a jay out of one of the hawthorn trees. The chiffchaff left the chase once the jay was out of the tree but the thrush pursued it out of sight.

Hardy Farm 

I walked through Hardy Farm into Chorlton for my bus. Chiffchaffs sang in the trees by Chorlton Ees and whitethroats in the bushes between the path and the tram lines where a pheasant called from somewhere in the rough.

River Mersey, Chorlton