Pennington Flash

Mute swans, Canada geese and a lesser black-back by the car park

I had an unexpectedly free day (cancelled lunch date, it's not the weather for anyone to be pushing themselves if they're not feeling 100%) and wondered what to do with it. I considered having another try at getting out to Kendal but after yesterday's performance I wasn't keen on the idea of being at the mercy of trains today. The train companies seem to be intent on stopping my chasing lifers. They may be right but I'd rather the choice was mine, not theirs.

I'd spent the wee small hours logging the runners and riders in the dawn chorus (the robin was late today and there was a passage of lesser black-backs) then spent the morning looking at the jobs needing doing round the house and not doing them. I really should have got up at four and gone for a walk. I decided on a late afternoon stroll round Pennington Flash, avoiding the midday heat and lull in birding activity.

I was unlucky with connections both on the way out and back home again, even with a bit of creative journey planning I spent as much time waiting for buses as riding on them. One of them days. There was some consolation to be had watching a raven and its two tatty and boisterous offspring over the Sale Lane bus stop as I waited for the V1 to Leigh.

Bradshaw Leach Meadow 

It was ten to five when I arrived at Pennington Flash. Blackcaps, blackbirds, robins and wrens sang in the trees as I walked in from St Helens Road. Great tits, blue tits and dunnocks fidgeted through the hedgerows. I noticed a small clump of common spotted orchids among the flag irises in what is usually a damp patch.

Black-headed gull

Third calendar year lesser black back

The flash was relatively quiet of people, the late afternoon rush was going home for tea. The car park was fairly quiet of birds, just a handful of mallards with a dozen Canada geese a couple of mute swans and the currently-resident Muscovy duck. I checked to see if the Egyptian geese had made an early appearance but had no luck. The major feature out on the water was a raft of fifty-odd Canada geese with a similar number of coots. In contrast there was just the one herring gull and a handful of lesser black-backs and the couple of swifts hawking high overhead were a stark contrast to May. A swarm of common blue damselflies zipping round low over the flash at the car park end was a nice seasonal touch.

Canada geese and coots

Muscovy duck

From the Horrocks Hide 

It was fairly quiet on the Horrocks spit, too. All the action was beyond the spit on the night where some of the nestling black-headed gulls were almost full-sized and coots and great crested grebes sat on nests close to the raft to take advantage of the gulls' watchdog activities.

Pennington Flash 

Blackcaps sang in the trees along the path and reed warblers and reed buntings sang in the reeds. Wrens, robins and blackbirds fossicked about the path margins.

Dabchick

The pool at the Tom Edmondson Hide looked quiet. Half a dozen herons hid in the trees in a shady corner. Families of half-grown coots drifted in and out of the reeds and a male dabchick ferried minnows back to its nest.

Dabchick
It's not just mandarin ducks that are masters of the abstract arts/

Herons feeling the heat

There was a crowd scene at Ramsdales, about thirty geese loafing by the islands. A couple of families of mallards fussed about, one family being very young. A couple of lapwings seemed to have a nest on the go. The only other wader seemed to be a redshank preening on the far island then I noticed a common sandpiper pottering about amongst the geese. 

Canada geese and common sandpiper

Canada geese and common sandpiper

Something startled a black-headed gull and suddenly all the Canada geese and mallards charged off into the bight. The waders flew up, the lapwings and common sandpiper settling back quickly. The mallards drifted back but the geese stayed out on the water. A reed warbler sang from the reeds by the side and I actually saw the usual Cetti's warbler instead of only hearing him, first time in over a year. 

Lapwings

Just as I was packing up to move on four little ringed plovers flew up from the other side of the tall island (it might be fifteen inches high), wheeled about the pool and disappeared back even quicker than they appeared. Just to remind me how much the element of chance plays in the game of birdwatching.

Pengy's Hide 

Pengy's pool 

Pengy's pool was picturesquely quiet, the banded demoiselles and broad-bodied chasers outnumbering the coots and mallards at least ten to one. Gadwalls were notable absentees: they're all in the moulting flock at Woolston Eyes by now.

Bunting Hide

The Bunting Hide was even quieter, or as quiet as three young magpies can ever be. A couple of stock doves flew in, decided nothing doing and departed almost without touching the floor.

I followed the brook across the golf course and past Leigh Sports Village for the bus back into Leigh and a connection back home. Wrens and robins sang in the trees and a family of coal tits bounced around in a willow. A goldcrest was singing particularly loudly and I spent a while trying to find it. All I could see in the tree were long-tailed tits, long-tailed tits and more long-tailed tits, have I been misidentifying the song all these years. The goldcrest relented and showed himself, giving a couple of loud blasts amongst the leaves. I could see why he was being shy, he was well into his moult and his head was almost bald save for white feather stubble and down feathers, he looked like something exotic from an African bird book. He sang well, though.

I got the 34 from Leigh into Monton and picked up the 21 to the Trafford Centre and thence home after a couple of hours' decent birdwatching.