Mersey Valley

Grey wagtail, Ashton on Mersey

I'd had a lazy morning's reading and didn't feel like doing much and ended up having one of those potters about that turn into a four mile walk. I didn't know where I was going when I set off, I could have been getting the 25 to the Trafford Centre and thence to Pennington Flash or the 256 and having a wander round Wellacre Country Park. When I turned for the station I wondered if I was getting the train and going somewhere but I carried on walking and it turned out I was going to Cob Kiln Wood.

Meadow brown, Cob Kiln Wood

Song thrushes and blackbirds sang in the wood and woodpigeons flew overhead but all the other birds were being very self-effacing. To the point where the most easily spotted bird was the jay rummaging about in the deep cover of an oak tree. Eventually a blackcap and a chiffchaff took pity on me and sang though I couldn't see either of them. The electricity pylon clearing was awash with butterflies. Speckled woods and commas chased each other around the woodland margins; small tortoiseshells and red admirals sunned themselves on the path or lurked within the nettle patches; and large whites, meadow browns and gatekeepers gorged themselves on the flowers of thistles and brambles.

Cob Kiln Wood

Cob Kiln Wood 

Something caught my eye as I crossed the river. A male grey wagtail was flycatching, flying out and hovering over the river as it caught gnats and midges before settling back at the side of the river with a beakful of insects. Its calls were being answered from somewhere but it was careful not to let nosy passersby see where its youngsters were.

Red admiral, Banky Meadow

I noticed that the gate to the path alongside the river to Banky Meadow had been removed. I took this as an invitation to follow (anywhere else in Greater Manchester I wouldn't think twice, of course it's a footpath; Trafford has been a bit different over the years). There were yet more butterflies, chiffchaffs and blackcaps sang in the trees and whitethroats in the hawthorn scrub. A family of great tits bounced around a small stretch of hedgerow.

Banky Meadow 

I was doing fine until I got to an unexpected drop with uncertain footholds. It was only about seven feet and had there been a tree there or had I a stick it would have been easily navigable. As it was, I found myself relying too much on the strength of a couple of stems of rosebay and, given that I didn't have the first idea what lay beyond, discretion overcame what little valour my old joints allow and I retreated. A whitethroat catcalled and who could blame it? In my younger days I would have just jumped down, which might be why I have a dodgy knee these days.

Banky Lane 

Anyways up, I retraced my steps and walked down Banky Lane. The highlight of the walk being a mixed tit flock which, as well as including a family of at least a dozen long-tailed tits with the blue, great and coal tits, included a willow tit and a couple of goldcrests.

I got into Ashton on Mersey just as the 280 to Altrincham pulled up and it would have been rude not to get on and go the long way home.