Friday wander

Garden warbler, Birchwood

The weather forecast promised more of yesterday's nonsense with a chance of sunshine late on. The cat promised more of yesterday's nonsense starting at 5:20 (yes, I bear a grudge) after the first time I've managed to sleep through the dawn chorus all week. So I left home.

Moorhen, Buxton

I was weary through lack of sleep and had the attention span of a mayfly on acid so I got myself an old man's explorer ticket, bobbed over to Piccadilly and played departure board bingo, which is how I arrived at Buxton in a dry but cloudy interval. I wandered over to the Pavilion Gardens which were looking lush but some of the lawns still haven't recovered from Winter. Chaffinches and robins sang in the trees, mallards and tufted ducks dozed on the banks of the ponds, moorhens and coots fussed about. The youngest in a party of visitors rustled a paper bag whereupon seventy-odd Canada geese charged over from the other side of the gardens looking like a dangerously bad-tempered Sunday park run.

Canada geese, Buxton

Barnacle goose, Buxton
This chap toddled along behind the Canada geese. It won't be going on my year list though I'd have been tempted if it was January.

Mandarin duck, Buxton

It started pouring down. A drake mandarin duck, halfway moulted into eclipse plumage, ran under a tree and fossicked around in the daisies on the lawn. I left the park and walked up the hill to the bus stop and got the bus to Macclesfield. 

This bus route winds its way along the tops of picturesque Pennine valleys past the Cat and Fiddle before descending into Macclesfield. I've long since given up on trying to get photos of the scenery and just sit back and enjoy it, especially on days like today when the ride coincides with a sunny break in the weather. There's not usually much visible birdlife about, today was a lot busier than usual with a few pairs of carrion crows rummaging about in fields, and a mixed flock of jackdaws and rooks off Old Buxton Road. As we'd just negotiated a tight bend just before the Cat and Fiddle a red kite floated past. At first I assumed it was a hen harrier, I've seen a couple on this stretch over the years, but as it got closer and we passed it I could see the different structure and paler head, the light not picking up any fox red tones.

I got off the bus at Macclesfield Station in the rain and got the train to Stoke because it was there. The weather cleared up en route so I walked down to Manorfields Pools which, now I know the way, is five minutes' walk from the station. A flock of large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs, wheeled high over in the direction of Hanley Park. I should have a nosy over there some time. 

The goldfinches and blackbirds of the university campus gave way to blackcaps and chiffchaffs and it had become warm enough for a handful of common blue damselflies to be flitting about the rank vegetation by the river.

Manorfields Pool

I followed the path round and noticed a gate leading to an overgrown path through the trees to the large pool. It turned out to be a very overgrown path and I suddenly didn't feel so bad about my back garden. Robins, wrens and song thrushes sounded like they were singing within arm's length as I barged my way through dog roses, brambles and nettles. I got to the pool where a pair of mute swans drifted about, a family of coots fussed about and moorhens and mallards kept a low profile. The drake mallards had almost completed their moult into eclipse plumage. I carried on down the path where it was becoming apparent I was the first visitor all year. In the end I gave up, I would have been drier standing in the pouring rain and the vegetation was getting so thick I couldn't disentangle the branches. I retreated, found a set of steps up to the path by the meadows and had a more sensible walk.

Baby coots, Stoke

Magpies and mistle thrushes bounced about the meadows and swifts flew low overhead. Robins and dunnocks hopped about on the path ahead of me, there were more of them in the bushes by the path with more blackcaps and chiffchaffs and a family party of blue tits. What I assumed to be more blue tits in the high branches of a tree turned out to be a pair of goldcrests with a couple of youngsters. A few of the damselflies flitting about by the river turned out to be azure damselflies, they stayed still long enough for me to identify them.

Azure dragonfly, Stoke

I clocked the time and made my way back to the station to catch the train back to Manchester (my ticket was only valid for the hourly Northern stopping train). The train hadn't yet set off when it started pouring down. An hour later we approached Manchester in bright sunshine on a warm Friday afternoon.

I was very tired but I didn't want to waste the weather. I bobbed over to Oxford Road and caught the Warrington train, getting off at Birchwood with a view to having a quick look at Risley Moss before getting the direct train back home just after six. 

Birchwood Forest Wood 

I didn't get there, contenting myself with three quarter of an hour's wander round Birchwood Forest Wood, which has one of my favourite names of multiple redundancy. It's a nice little ribbon of woodland between the railway and the housing estate. Blackbirds, blackcaps, chaffinches and chiffchaffs sang in the undergrowth, song thrushes and woodpigeons sang in the trees. Robins, wrens and dunnocks fussed about the path margins and a great spotted woodpecker's alarm calls made it clear I wasn't a welcome passerby. A juvenile willow warbler was a nice surprise, as was a garden warbler. I'm seeing more garden warblers than I'm hearing just lately which is very much against the usual rub of the game.

I dawdled my way back to the station, had twenty minutes to wait for the train, got home, fed the cat, had a cup of tea and had a few hours' sleep. Somehow or other I'd managed to see forty-six species of birds in the day.