Halton

Shelducks, Hale Lighthouse 

I seem to be having a low energy start to June, autumnal weather combining with the pollen count to encourage my lethargy. I was all for going back to bed for a nap but found myself on the lunchtime train to Hough Green, then walking down to Coronation Drive and getting the 82A bus to Hale.

Shelducks and house martins, Hale

I got off at the Wellington and strolled back up Hale Bank Road to look at the marshy fields in the hopes of a stray waders. It was a bright sunny day and I wondered if I'd overdressed for the occasion until I left the shelter of the houses and caught the wind coming in from the estuary. The air was full of swifts and house martins, both flying unusually low due to the wind. It's not often I see house martins fly past at shoulder height.  About forty Canada geese on the marsh on my side of the road craned their necks to see what I was about before deciding I wasn't likely to be able to jump the hedge and run through a hundred yards of reedy bog before they could fly away. Over on the other side of the road shelducks dozed on mudbanks, little egrets and herons stalked the pools and coots and gadwalls made sure to keep their tiny youngsters away from the herons. Linnets, pied wagtails and goldfinches flitted about, noisy squadrons of starlings commuted between the marsh and the gardens in the village, a whitethroat sang in the hedgerow behind me as I looked at the big pool and pairs of cormorants flew to and fro between the river and the trees North of the village.

Poppy, Hale Lighthouse 

I walked back through the village and headed for the lighthouse. The fields along the path were a riot of poppies, ox-eye daisies and corn marigolds. Skylarks, starlings and linnets flitted about in the fields, goldfinches and linnets in the hedgerows along the path. A few skylarks sang, the wind keeping all of them just a few feet above the field. A couple of corn buntings made a cameo appearance on the hedge before disappearing deep into a patch of barley. I watched a robin collecting food at the edge of the path, thinking it must have a nest on the go, when its mate appeared and got fed the meal. A nice bit of pair-bonding.

Hale Lighthouse

Walking from Hale Lighthouse 

Any queries about being overdressed were immediately dispelled as I turned onto the path away from the lighthouse and started walking into a strong, cold wind. Lesser black-backs floated over the river, cormorants and little egrets flew to and fro. The river was high with the tide. A pair of Canada geese loafed on the shore by the lighthouse, a pair of shelducks foraged a little further along and a few crows fossicked about further yet where the brook enters the estuary. I scanned up and down for waders and had no joy until a pair of lapwings flew over the river and disappeared into a field of potatoes by the path. I was looking for them when a grey partridge flew across my line of vision and disappeared into the cornfield.

A few reed buntings had been singing in the cornfield. A couple more were singing in the little patch of reedbeds by the shoreline on the approach to the brook. Appropriately enough, so did a reed warbler. A little further on the reeds got thicker and a sedge warbler took over the singing, just to be awkward.

Heading for Hale Park 

I turned off onto the invisible path that leads to the trees and thence to Hale Park. Chaffinches, blackbirds, robins and song thrushes sang in the trees and more of them joined the woodpigeons, magpies and pied wagtails feeding on the newly mown grass in the park.

Approaching Hale Park

I'd found it hard work walking along the river into the wind, especially following that up by walking through a froth of grass cuttings, and I asked myself if I had the wind to walk down to Pickerings Pasture then across Ditton Marsh to Spike Island as planned. No, of course I didn't. So I got the 82A back and stayed on to Spike Island.

Coot, Spike Island 

There wasn't half as much waterfowl on the canal as usual: a few coots, perhaps a couple of dozen mallards, a couple of pairs of Canada geese and a pair of mute swans asleep on the slipway. 

One of those herring gulls that make you look twice, Spike Island 

The tide was on the ebb and retreating fast. Dozens of black-headed gulls loafed and squabbled on the mudflats by the canal. Shelducks fussed about in the shallows before settling on the mudflats to doze. I looked in vain for any ruddy shelducks, just in case. Dozens of large gulls loafed on the higher banks upstream, mostly lesser black-backs with a few herring gulls including a couple of relatively dark subadult herring gulls I had to look at carefully to make sure I wasn't missing anything.

Shelducks and black-headed gulls, Spike Island

Chiffchaffs, blackcaps and robins sang in the trees on the island. The wind kept the temperature down so there weren't any butterflies or dragonflies about but there were plenty enough smaller insects for the low-flying swallows and house martins hawking over the paths. A family of great tits were being fed in one of the elderflower bushes on the bank.

The Canada geese I hadn't seen on the canal were out on the marsh with a few mallards and an oystercatcher. 

The Mersey Gateway Bridge 

I had one last, lingering look over the river, just in case there might be a ruddy shelduck out there. It's difficult to explain the reserves of wishful thinking involved in scouring a huge expanse of mud for a bird that isn't there but it's surprising how often it works. Not today though, just more gulls, shelducks and a few herons and little egrets.

I didn't have long to wait for the 110 to Warrington and got the train home. I'll get to Pickerings Pasture next time.