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.