Black-tailed godwits, Leighton Moss

Public transport routes and services change and are sometimes axed completely. I'll try to update any changes as soon as I find out about them. Where bus services have been cancelled or renamed I'll strike through the obsolete bus number to mark this change.

Wednesday 8 May 2024

Mersey Valley

Goosander, Banky Meadow

It was another nice day and after cat-napping most of the night I was in a better frame of mind for having a lunchtime walk. I decided to head over to Irlam for a walk across the mosses, skipping Little Woolden Moss this time and having a nosy round Croxden's and Barton mosses. So of course the train was cancelled at the last minute. I could faff around with the bus connections, which would have been better half an hour earlier or I could do something else. So I headed for Cob Kiln Wood. Walking away from the station a pair of swifts streaked over the chimney tops. I took that as a good omen.

Over Ousel Brook into Cob Kiln Wood 

The robins, wrens, blackbirds and song thrushes were singing lustily at the entrance to Cob Kiln Wood. As I crossed the bridge over Ousel Brook blue tits and great tits bounced about in the hedgerows and goldfinches flitted about the treetops. For all the rich soundscape there wasn't a warbler to be heard, very unlike yesterday on Stretford Meadows. I'd almost reached the electricity pylon clearing when I heard the first chiffchaff.

Cob Kiln Wood 

Approaching the electricity pylon clearing 

A buzzard lumbered off and flew over the trees as I entered the clearing. A blackcap sang in the trees and a whitethroat sang from deep in the dogwood patch. A few more blue tits and goldfinches bounced about, a pair of long-tailed tits were carrying huge beakfuls of insects and woodpigeons lumbered about in the treetops. It was nice to be able to walk along the paths and not play hopscotch across the clumps of comfrey. The weather brought out the butterflies: holly blues and speckled woods flitting about in the trees, large whites, orange tips and brimstones in the clearing.

The electricity pylon clearing 

Comfrey patches coming into flower 

I dropped down onto Cob Kiln Lane and walked down towards the river. There was a terrific commotion up in the trees as a pair of mistle thrushes made their objections to magpies conspicuously clear.

Cob Kiln Lane 

I decided to cross the river and have a wander round Banky Meadow. A few pigeons flitted about the Carrington Spur Road bridge and a drake mallard drifted by the bank. I was just thinking to myself that it was a shame that the river's got into a tatty state again when I spotted something down river. Something long and dark was fishing underwater a couple of hundred yards down. I waited for the cormorant to bob back up again. It didn't. It wasn't a cormorant. A brown back broke the water and submerged again. An otter. An otter? No, probably a mink. Then a head broke water to take a breath. A dog face, not a ferret face. An otter. Gosh. I got a couple of photos of splashes in the water as the tip of the tail flipped underwater. Which is about par for the course whenever I try to photograph otters.

Banky Lane 

Banky Lane was noisy with robins, wrens and blackbirds. I didn't hear any warblers until I got to the fork in the lane and bumped into the first singing chiffchaff. Thereafter things changed plenty with blackcaps, chiffchaffs and a garden warbler singing in the damp woodland and whitethroats singing in the open glades.

The path down to the river

I took the detour to the river to see if anything was about (and in the hope that the otter might have drifted down and fancied a bit of sunbathing on the beach). A few mallards drifted about and a pair of goosanders sat on the shingles.

River Mersey

Cutting through back onto Banky Lane the only ring-necked parakeets of the day rattled in the treetops by the car park. I walked round onto Carrington Road and got the 18 back into Urmston and thence home. It had been a pretty good afternoon.

Banky Meadow 

Tuesday 7 May 2024

Stretford

Goldfinch, Stretford Meadows

I overslept and heavily so I missed the trains for any of today's planned jaunts and a banging headache didn't put me in the mood for going far. It looked like a nice day so I decided to take my headache for a walk anyway.

It was a warm but heavy sort of a day with a lot of cloud cover. I walked over to Stretford Meadows. Blackbirds and robins sang in gardens, starlings and spadgers had noisy young to feed and woodpigeons canoodled on television aerials.

Too easy

I had no need to hop across the palettes into the meadows, the mud was baked hard. The trees were lively with house sparrows and greenfinches and the songs of blackbirds, wrens, blackcaps and robins. There were chiffchaffs about but only a couple singing.

Looking towards Newcroft Road 

Out on the open meadow amongst the orange tips and small tortoiseshells every bramble patch with an hawthorn and an oak sapling had its singing whitethroat. Goldfinches bounced about the young trees, the linnets and reed buntings were trickier to spot and every hundred yards a pair of magpies would be rummaging in the long grass. 

Stretford Meadows 

Stretford Meadows 

A bramble patch and friends

I know we're supposed to be sniffy about scrub but I'm all in favour of it, partly because it's an excellent habitat in itself but also because it rewilds the spirit, reconnecting it with the natural timescales of environmental change. Left to its own devices this area will become woodland during the course of a human lifetime which to my mind is a satisfying symmetry. And along the way it'll host a wide range of flora and fauna. The brambles aren't in flower yet but judging by the foliage and habit I could recognise there were twenty or thirty different types on the meadows — thank God I'm not a botanist so I wasn't tempted to try and identify them, gulls are bad enough! It seems perverse to grub up a random assortment of brambles to plant cloned whips in the name of biodiversity.

Jackdaw, Stretford Meadows 

A possible lesser whitethroat singing in a distant bramble patch wasn't a good enough identification for a year tick. None of the more accessible patches I visited had one singing though there were plenty more whitethroats with the wrens and robins. Pairs of woodpigeons and pigeons and single stock doves flew overhead, a reversal of the usual trend. A flock of jackdaws rummaged about in the open grass taking food back to hungry mouths in the trees and chimney tops of Urmston Lane.

Walking down the mound

The M60 is very close nearby

Walking beside Kickety Brook 

Dropping down the hill I walked along Kickety Brook to Stretford Ees. Blackbirds, robins, chiffchaffs and great tits sang in the hedgerows. A pair of great tits hunted spiders on the ceiling of the underpass beneath Chester Road, making an already eerie walk-through sound positively creepy.

Bridgewater Canal Aquaduct 

Grey squirrel, Stretford Ees

I bumped into the first ring-necked parakeets as I reached Hawthorn Road and turned onto the footpath beneath the pigeons' nests under the aquaduct.

Stretford Ees

A flock of half a dozen parakeets wheeled around Stretford Ees, not sure whether to sit in the trees by the cemetery or the trees by the tram line. Blackcaps and chiffchaffs in the trees competed for sound with the whitethroats on the ees. Reed buntings and goldfinches bounced about the willows by the pond, a moorhen and its chick relaxed for a while in the sunshine.

Moorhen, Stretford Ees

Moorhen chick, Stretford Ees

The headache hadn't got much better but I'd got some exercise and there was plenty about. I didn't much fancy meeting the after-school rush in Chorlton Ees and looking at the clouds I was reminded that the thunderstorm we'd been forecast yesterday evening hadn't happened so I walked over the football pitches of Turn Moss and waited for the bus home.

Water horsetail, Stretford Ees

Little Woolden Moss

Hobby

Much to my surprise it was a fine bank holiday Monday. I thought I'd best head somewhere fairly quiet so I got the train to Glazebrook and walked up to Little Woolden Moss.

Glazebrook Lane was filled with birdsong: robins, wrens, blackbirds and chaffinches, whitethroats, greenfinches and goldfinches. I'd kept hearing chiffchaffs calling but the first singing bird was in a tree by the junction with Woolden Road. Pairs of stock doves flew by, three mallards flew around a field of sheep and a cormorant flew overhead heading South.

Canada geese, Little Woolden Hall

I walked down Holcroft Lane over the motorway and joined the lane heading down to Little Woolden Hall. Canada geese grazed with the horses, there was but the one pied wagtail flitting about and I worried about the lack of swallows over the fields by the river and sand martins over the river. A tufted duck drifted downstream in the company of mallards and a pair of gadwalls dozed on the bank.

Little Woolden Moss, walking from the hall

I was cheered up a bit to find half a dozen swallows flying over the rapeseed field by the stables, a couple of them flitting in to inspect the old nests. Blackbirds and meadow pipits fussed about in the fields and I thought I heard a yellow wagtail but had no luck finding one. Which is not really a surprise in fields full of knee-high acid yellow rape. Yellow wagtails hug the ground a lot, it's generally only when they take flight you get to spot them and they're quick to disappear. In many ways they're more like pipits than wagtails.

I let on to a couple of passing birders and compared notes with another (hi Steve!). He'd seen a wheatear and a yellow wagtail and had good views of a hobby. I had a bit of a moan about not seeing a single raptor all the way from Glazebrook, which is very unusual. That would change.

Large red damselfly 

A bright, sunny lunchtime had brought out the butterflies, a few large whites joining the orange tips and peacocks. Walking down the path along the Western margin of the reserve large red damselflies kept zipping through the undergrowth. Large red damselflies are tiny and thin, about half the size of a common blue damselfly, at first when I was just seeing movements in the distance I wasn't sure if they were damselflies at all.

Along the Western margin of the reserve

Little Woolden Moss was in one of its generous moods. As I turned the corner a buzzard floated over the trees and drifted off over the fields. There was an abundance of singing willow warblers. A few whitethroats, robins, chiffchaffs and reed buntings provided backing vocals but were heavily outnumbered.

Little Woolden Moss 

When I got sight of pools they were mostly deserted though a couple had gadwalls or coots mooching about on them. I'd been hearing curlews, it was nice to see them out in the open feeding between distant patches of cotton grass. The lapwings to the North of the reserve were up and down a lot, chasing off carrion crows and the female marsh harrier. They didn't seem unduly fussed by a kestrel.

Hobby

I was settling down to a nice walk with a cooling breeze and the air full of birdsong. I was thinking it would be nice to see a hobby but it's probably been and gone for the day, there weren't enough large red damselflies about for a decent meal, when the hobby streaked over the trees. It circled the open ground a couple of times before flying back over the trees. Over the next quarter of an hour it divided its time between hunting over the fields and over the reserve and I got cracking views as it flew low overhead.

Hobby

Walking along the Southern margin of the reserve 

Approaching the Eastern pools I started to see — and hear — black-headed gulls and Canada geese. A few mallards drifted about, one duck had a tidy batch of young ducklings with her. The male shoveler dozed by a bund and a couple of pairs of gadwalls lurked by the banks.

Mallard and ducklings 

One of the gadwalls gave a sharp quack and the mallard escorted her ducklings into the reeds. The reason became apparent when the marsh harrier drifted low over the pool and did a couple of circles before drifting over the trees and over the fields.

Female marsh harrier 

Little Woolden Moss 

Common terns and black-headed gulls 

A couple of common terns flew in for a wash and brush-up, settling on piers to preen.

The Eastern pool

As I walked along the harrier drifted back, to the indifference of everything except a couple of lapwings, before heading North to the farms beyond. I glanced back at the pool and spotted another tern dancing low over the reeds. It looked quite dark and short-tailed but I couldn't get a good enough look at it before some birch scrub obscured my view. By the time I got to a place where I could see where it had been the tern had gone. I recorded it in my notebook as probably a common tern coloured by backlighting and wishful thinking on my part. It wasn't a waste of time, though, I found my first little ringed plover of the year dozing on one of the bunds by the reeds. I'm not sure this isn't my latest first sighting of this species.

Hare's tail cotton grass gone to seed

Linnets, meadow pipits and reed buntings skittered about in the cotton grass. More willow warblers sang, accompanied by chiffchaffs and robins. It was a very agreeable walk.

Little Woolden Moss from the path on the Northern margin

I drifted Northwards, thinking I'd have a look for lapwing chicks and yellow wagtails in the barley fields before heading back and off to Irlam. Meadow pipits performed their parachute songs before disappearing into the cotton grass. There was an almighty kerfuffle as a dozen lapwings beat up three carrion crows and chased them off the fields but not before one of the crows had snatched a chick.

Lapwing chicks

The barley field was dazzling in the bright light, the combination of rows of vertical short, bright green shoots set against black soil became hard on the eyes — scanning the field with my binoculars was like looking at the interference on an old and failing computer monitor (the fatal hint that your Amstrad word processor was about to die). The lapwings and their chick could be picked out readily enough by their white bellies. The meadow pipits and the half a dozen yellow wagtails in there were harder work.

Lapwings and yellow wagtail in a dazzle camouflage background 

Female yellow wagtail

Meadow pipit

I carried on walking. Evidently I'd decided to walk into Glazebury without telling myself. Skylarks sang above the fields. The next barley field had been sown a couple of weeks earlier and was shin-high, plenty tall enough to hide the wagtails and pipits I could hear in there. A wagtail flew across the path and into this field, the reconnoitring circle it flew before disappearing into the barley being just long enough for me to catch the lavender grey head and white throat and confirm it as the male Channel wagtail that's often seen here. A Channel wagtail is a cross between a blue-headed wagtail (the continental subspecies of yellow wagtail) and "our" yellow wagtail. There's been one here for the past few years though I had no luck last year. I don't know if it's the same bird throughout or one of its progeny carrying on the baton.

A yellowhammer and a whitethroat singing in the same tree was a joy to see and hear.

Grey partridge, Moss Lane

I walked down Moss Lane to a sound track of blackbirds, wrens, robins and chiffchaffs. Blackbirds and house sparrows rummaged in the hedgerows; great tits, blue tits and goldfinches bounced about in the trees. Most of the fields were littered with woodpigeons and stock doves. A few pheasants fossicked about in field margins and a couple of grey partridges lurked by one of the fences.

Some of the fields were still recovering from Winter flooding 

River Glaze, or Glaze Brook, depending on your mood

The trees by the Glaze were noisy with blackcaps, chiffchaffs and great tits. A pair of tufted ducks drifted quietly upriver. I thought I'd best check the buses, a good idea as the last bus of the day heading for Warrington was due in quarter of an hour (I'd just missed the one to Leigh). It's only just over five minutes' walk from the river to the bus stop so I made it in plenty of time, got off at Padgate Station and got the train home after a very full afternoon's birdwatching.