Flixton

Banded demoiselle, Dutton's Pond

It was one of those days that would be heavy and sweaty were it not for a cold wind blowing in from who knows where. I decided on an afternoon's wander round Wellacre Country Park to ease myself into the month.

Wellacre Wood 

Wellacre Wood was noisy with song thrushes, blackbirds, robins and wrens. A couple of chiffchaffs and a blackcap joined in every so often. Unlike yesterday it was a devil to actually see any of the small birds, even the long-tailed tits were just movements in hawthorn bushes. A family of carrion crows were just starting to leave their nest and were making a shocking racket about it.

Wellacre Country Park 

Fifty-odd swifts wheeled around the water treatment works with handfuls of sand martins and swallows and a few dozen starlings. I didn't see any hirundines away from the plant this afternoon.

The usual couple of dozen house sparrows were dustbathing on Jack Lane and more were twittering in the hedgerow. A couple of wrens sang at each other in the hedges by the nature reserve.

Jack Lane Local Nature Reserve 

I was dismayed to see that Jack Lane Nature Reserve hadn't been included in No Mow May. Where there had been swathes of bluebells, hogweed, cow parsley and buttercups in the meadow grasses either side of the path there was now a pair of grass verges cut right down to the soil. I expect the people who did this will be spending the Summer asking why there aren't as many butterflies and bees about as in the old days. It's probably a coincidence that the nature reserve was the only part of Wellacre Country Park I didn't see any butterflies in today. [I've edited out a long rant about the use of strimmers in nature reserves during the breeding season.]

Two reed warblers sang from deep within the reedbeds while a pair of Cetti's warblers kept busy to-ing and fro-ing between reedbeds, the male stopping every so often to sing. 

Mallards, Dutton's Pond

A couple of mallards loafed on Dutton's Pond while a moorhen stole anglers' ground bait and took it back to its chicks nestling in the reeds. A very smart damselfly caught my eye as it patrolled the young oak trees at the side. The dark metallic blue body and inky blue-black wings immediately brought beautiful demoiselle to mind but the habitat was entirely wrong for one of those. It took a few minutes to pin it down for a proper look at it. It turned out to be a particularly dark banded demoiselle, which made more sense.

White campion, Green Hill

I'll have to start calling Fly Ash Hill by its new official name, Green Hill. It was quiet by either name, a couple of whitethroats calling from the grass in the open and a chiffchaff and a blackcap singing in the trees by the houses.

Green Hill 

I walked into Flixton, checking the river at Flixton Bridge and only finding a great tit in the willows on the far bank.

It was a very downbeat sort of an afternoon's amble, for once I felt more depressed at the end than when I started.