Mersey Valley

Cob Kiln Wood 

It was a mild, bright Boxing Day morning. It seemed a shame to waste it so I had an early lunch and trotted over to Cob Kiln Wood. I hadn't walked far past the station before the clouds rolled in, the sun shining weakly in a cold cerulean blue and acid yellow sky fading to opaque grey as the afternoon progressed. There was a mizzle as I arrived at Cob Kiln Wood but that soon faded and it was a fair weather for a walk though very wet and muddy underfoot.

Just past the bridge over Old Ees Brook a mixed tit flock passed one way as a mixed finch flock went the other. For once the long-tailed tits lagged behind the crowd but not for long, they soon overtook the blue tits and great tits as they moved into the willows beyond. The finches were all chaffinches and goldfinches, the goldfinches feeding on alder cones mostly.

Cob Kiln Wood 

I decided not to walk across the clearing, which looked like a quagmire, and stuck to the peripheral path, which was quite muddy enough thank you. This stretch of woodland was quiet save the chipping of robins as I passed and the screeches of a pair of parakeets.

River Mersey

The river was very high indeed. Any trout or salmon coming upstream wouldn't have needed to use the salmon ladder. Unsurprisingly there were no ducks or wagtails about. I crossed the bridge and walked a little way down Banky Lane, just to let on. The woods before the sewage works were deserted, a family of carrion crows flying in from the fields as I walked back.

There had been so much Yuletide foot traffic that the riverside paths were in a considerably worse state than any of the paths in Cob Kiln Wood. Woodpigeons and carrion crows flew hither and tither and jackdaws noisily drifted over to roost in the trees along Bradley Lane.

Ring-necked parakeet, Kickety Brook local nature reserve

A handful of parakeets were the most conspicuous element in the Kickety Brook Local Nature Reserve, easily out-shouting the dozens of jackdaws going to roost. One pair of parakeets were busy exploring the new tree holes provided by the recent storms. A nuthatch rummaged around in the willows and a song thrush sang from the sallow at the bend of the path.

Stretford Meadows 

As the sun began to set I crossed the motorway and dropped onto Stretford Meadows as another song thrush was singing from the willows by the path. Blackbirds, robins and great tits called from the undergrowth and half a dozen parakeets wheeled and screeched before heading off to roost in the woodland at the Cherry Tree Estate end of the meadows.

It had been uncomfortable walking and not unduly productive birdwatching but I'd got a bit of exercise in before tomorrow's deluge.