Dreich

The Met Office had promised biblical rain and lo! it was produced overnight. Things quietened down during the day, the rain having settled into that heavy drizzle that's like walking through a continuous sequence of saturated eiderdowns. It was so wet a juvenile grey wagtail spent quarter of an hour rummaging about on the washhouse roof.

I had had thoughts of letting the train take the strain but an extremely bad night's sleep put paid to ambition. Eyes like peepholes in the snow are not the best tools for keen observation. 

There were errands to be run in Manchester that I'd been putting off, today seemed a good day to get them out of the way. Looking out of the rain-streaked window into the daunting murk it occurred to me it had been no bad idea to postpone any train-based birdwatching.

Lincoln Square 

The pigeons were bustling about as I walked through St Peters Square but the usual flock of goldfinches weren't about any. The usual blue tits were in the trees in Lincoln Square, though. I kept an eye out on the rooftops for any signs of black redstarts (the consequent tilt of the head being good for keeping eyes out of the way of umbrella spokes). As expected I had no joy. You have to either have a job working in a top floor office or be phenomenally lucky to see one of the city centre black redstarts. These days I'm walking through the city centre so infrequently that I'm phenomenally lucky perhaps once every couple of years.