Hindley

Coal tit, Amberswood 

I've not been sleeping well lately but last night took it to extremes, the last time I remember checking the clock it was twenty past five. Consequently, when I woke up at five to nine I felt like human wreckage and knocked today's plans on the head. After a late breakfast and a re-filling of the bird feeders I went over to the Trafford Centre and played bus station bingo. Luckily for me the 132 to Wigan was first out so I had an easy afternoon walk round Amberswood and Low Hall.

I'd barely stepped through the entrance from Manchester Road when I bumped into the first mixed tit flock in the hedgerow. A dozen long-tailed tits skittered about in the hawthorns on one side of the path and a few blue tits bounced about in the trees on the other. Robins sang, goldfinches twittered and blackbirds flitted about in the undergrowth.

Walking in from Manchester Road 

I bumped into a small flock of redwings plucking berries from hawthorns. I was today years old when I first learned that redwings don't give a monkey's about old men bawling: "Hello! Are you still there?" down a 'phone twenty feet away. Having, eventually, established that the person who had rung me up had not died nor had urgent need of an ambulance but had merely put their 'phone down and wandered off for God knows what reason I composed myself and ignored the naked scorn of jays and magpies. I quickly bumped into another mixed tit flock, this one with its complement of great tits, and yet more blackbirds and redwings feeding on berries with a small flock of woodpigeons.

Amberswood 

As I approached the lake a photographer tipped me off that somebody had just filled the bird feeders. As it turned out I would have needed no tipping off, the trees and bushes in that corner were fizzing with coal tits. The great tits, chaffinches and blue tits were a bit more cautious of passersby and a calling nuthatch stayed in the trees. I almost missed the willow tits slipping in past the coal tits to snatch sunflower seeds.

Amberswood Lake

Invisible water rails squealed at each other in the reeds as I walked by the lake. The reed buntings I'd expected but hadn't yet seen or heard suddenly started alarm calling as a buzzard floated low overhead with a hostile escort of carrion crows. I was hearing coots and black-headed gulls before I was seeing them. As the view opened out I could see a pair of mute swans and a bunch of mallards over by the far bank. Looking round I could see no sign of the usual great crested grebes or tufted ducks.

Amberswood Lake

Low Hall 

I wandered over the road to Low Hall where blackbirds, robins and wrens fossicked about in the undergrowth and coal tits and woodpigeons fussed about in the trees. There were a couple of teal with the mallards on the pond, while I was checking them out a blackbird and a song thrush came over to pillage the hawthorn bush next to me.

The pair of mute swans were on the little dragonfly pool, they'd shifted over to the pond when I walked back. A rather disorganised mixed tit flock bounced through the trees, the long-tailed tits heading one way and the great tits and blue tits heading the other.

Low Hall 

The sun was setting slowly in the West so I moseyed back and walked into Hindley for the 132 back to the Trafford Centre. The long journey feels twice as long in the dark.

I'm on the train

Treecreeper, York

The yellow alerts for Storm Bram had retreated more than somewhat overnight but it was still looking like not being a nice day. It was dry and remarkably warm when I ran the morning's errands but the knees felt like they'd been set in concrete so I wasn't up for any fell-running. I'd already planned on using one of my Delay Repay compo tickets for a day out to York (there are three more in the post) so I headed into Manchester and got the Leeds train at Victoria Station.

I hadn't realised just how much I've been actively avoiding Manchester City Centre lately. It looks like the pigeons are doing so, too, as Piccadilly Gardens was bereft of them (there's usually a crowd of them hanging round from dawn to midnight).

The sky was black and the rain teeming down as we crossed the Pennines. The River Calder was in angry spate. Along the way woodpigeons, jackdaws and even carrion crows huddled in trackside trees and mallards dabbled in fields. The weather calmed down on the approach to Bradford and became settled grey and windy.

On a whim I got the train that goes the long way round to York. I recently realised that "the train to Poppleton" is the stopping train to York via Harrogate and Knaresborough and "the train to Burleigh Park" is the train back from York. I have friends in the area so I thought I'd do a reconnaissance to see how easy it would be to let on to them (the answer is it would be a doddle).

It turned out to be a very good whim indeed. I've never seen so many red kites on one journey. The idea of having red kites as garden ticks, as they evidently do in Weeton, makes my brain itch. Every so often the train would disturb one from a trackside tree and it would float off, its tail twitching in the wind. More often there'd be a slim form hanging on long wings high above rolling fields.

A day's worth of red kites

Arriving at York I had a short wander round. I've always dashed straight into the city centre so today I decided to approach it leisurely by way of the Memorial Park and the river. The singing robins and the mixed tit flock I bumped into in the park was a nice change of pace. 

Ouse Bridge, York

I've seen the river higher than it was today but it was quite high enough for me to worry about riverside occupants. When rivers are this high and fast the waterfowl move on to calmer waters and so it was today. I had a nice surprise as I was taking scenic photos when a treecreeper jumped onto the tree I was standing by. Getting such a fidgety bird into focus so close to hand defeated my photographic skills but it was good to see it. Treecreepers are one of those I know they're definitely around but I ain't seeing them birds, it's always a treat when they jump out and say hello.

I took the direct route back to Leeds. It doesn't take a lot to flood the fields around Ulleskelf so it didn't shock me to see a big flock of Canada geese sharing a pop-up lake with mute swans and mallards. I was surprised to see red kites skirting Leeds City Centre, mind. And a Mediterranean gull loafing on its own on a wet football pitch was a shock.

I picked out the woodpigeons, jackdaws and carrion crows best could in the failing light on the train back to Manchester where my train home was cancelled. It's a rare thing for me to use a Delay Repay compo ticket without ending up submitting Delay Repay claims for late and cancelled trains.

Clifton Country Park

Cormorant

It was the calm before the storm. I asked myself if I fancied starting the week by gambling that trains might run to schedule. I put the two new Delay Repay compensatory tickets into my wallet and decided not.

I went over to the Trafford Centre and played bus station bingo, which led to me getting off the 22 at Clifton Cricket Club and walking down into the country park. I was rather hoping the exercise would take the stiffness out of my knees but if anything the slope down to the railway underpass and the mild, damp air just emphasised it.

A mixed tit flock bounced through the trees by the underpass, a goldcrest passing me by at arm's reach. Woodpigeons and magpies clattered about in the trees and black-headed gulls passed overhead.

There were more magpies, woodpigeons and black-headed gulls by the visitor centre. A small flock of redwings, just half a dozen of them, flew into the treetops.

Mute swan

The lake was awash with waterfowl. Mute swans cruised about, the adults very definitely hinting to the cygnets that it's time to move on. Gadwalls outnumbered the mallards and tufted ducks two to one and there were nearly as many coots. There were surprisingly few Canada geese, I hope they've not all been hit by avian flu. The most numerous, and noisiest by far, birds were the black-headed gulls. Hidden amongst them was a rather small-headed subadult herring gull which I spent a few minutes trying and failing to turn into a Caspian gull. I think it was just a particularly round-headed young female herring gull.

Mute cygnet

Tufted ducks

Clifton Country Park 

I was alerted to the mixed tit flock amongst the squirrels when a goldcrest flew into a hawthorn bush just in front of my face. The great tits and blue tits made themselves obvious, the long-tailed tits took a bit of finding. Blackbirds and song thrushes fed on berries and one of the song thrushes broke into song. They've been very thin on the ground this half of the year.

River Irwell 

I decided the knees weren't up for the walk through the woods into Radcliffe. To be honest, they weren't up for the walk back up to the bus stop in Clifton. A glance over my shoulder suggested a reason: the weather blowing in from the South was filthy.

Goosanders

Mallards dozed on the sandbanks on the bends of the Irwell and a couple of redhead goosanders drifted lazily upstream. A cormorant held its wings out to dry and settled down for a comprehensive preen.

Cormorant

Cormorant

Cormorant

Red Rock Lane

I walked past Bolton Water Treatment Works into Ringley. A grey wagtail fussed about the sluice from the filtration beds which were very busy with black-headed gulls. The weather caught up with me at Ringley Bridge, I caught the 512 to Bury and got the tram back to Stretford, the rain streaming down the windows along the way.

Home thoughts

Spadgers making a start on the suet blocks

Sundays are traditionally dismal so I didn't mind that so much but the torrential rain was a mither. After venturing out on an errand I didn't much feel like walking abroad.

I'm going to have to get more supplies in for the birds after the sparrows demolished the suet blocks over a couple of days. They had help from the titmice and a goldcrest, and at least one passing starling. A pillar of suet and mealworms was quickly devoured by magpies and squirrels. 

There is a mixed tit flock that visits my garden but I don't often get to see them all at the same time. There are days, like today, when the blue tits drop anchor and don't stray far from the feeders for very long. The blue tit that had attached itself to the flock of spadgers over Autumn has peeled off and joined the tit flock. The great tits come in as a pair, it's not often both the coal tits are in at the same time and the long-tailed tits usually scamper out of the sycamores in ones or twos. Today's the first time I could count eight of them bustling their way through the spadgers to get the last of the suet. I think there's just the one goldcrest but they're such fidgets I may be missing more. And don't think I don't do long, hard looks for signs of one being a firecrest. 

• Black-headed gull 1
• Blackbird 1
• Blue tit 3
• Carrion crow 1
• Coal tit 2
• Collared dove 1
• Dunnock 2
• Goldcrest 1
• Great tit 2
• Herring gull 1
• House sparrow 19
• Long-tailed tit 8
• Magpie 2
• Robin 1
• Rook 2
• Starling 1

Late on, a dozen black-headed gulls flew over, heading for the Salford Quays roost while a handful of herring gulls headed, probably, for Woolston Eyes. More surprisingly, two dozen lapwings flew East (whence to where?) overhead at sunset, a new garden tick.

There are lots of surprises along the way in this birdwatching lark. One I absolutely hadn't expected was to find myself wishing I had a mangle. I have a couple of heavy, fleece-lined shirts that are great on cold, windy days. The only drawback to them is that they're drip-dry. It takes the best part of a week, even when I hang them on a radiator. Of course, if Santa did bring me a mangle I don't have the first idea where to put it, there's no room in the bathroom or kitchen for one. I'd have to build an extension to the washhouse. They don't warn you about stuff like this in the bird books.

Southport

Smew

I'd spent part of last night applying copious amounts of fabric freshener to the cap to try and knock back the strong smell of damp sheep. And then this morning I headed off in the teeming rain for a day at the seaside. This type of muck is balmy weather to smews. A redhead drake has been on Southport Marine Lake for a day or two so I thought I'd try to add that to the year list. I was also tempted by a possible "grey-bellied" brent goose¹ on Banks Marsh but I'd want the weather to buck its ideas up a lot before heading out that way later on.

The weather had brightened up as we approached Liverpool. The general rule of thumb, which followed through the whole day, was that the brighter the sunshine the heavier the rain.

On the train up to Southport I've become used to expecting a crowd of gulls on what I think is a recycling depot between Sandhills and Bank Hall. And so there was today. But there was something else, too. Had the train been travelling at speed I'd have dismissed it as a woodpigeon made to look very much bigger by a tree branch or some such. Luckily for me, the train can't get up much of a head of steam in the short distance between these stations. The bird really was very much bigger than a woodpigeon. It was a red kite. I think it must have been a young bird, it was reddish brown rather than foxy ginger and its head was only slightly lighter than its body. It was the deeply forked tail that clinched it.

Southport Marine Lake

The sun was shining brightly and my raincoat was earning its keep as I walked from Southport Station to the Marine Lake. Herring gulls and black-headed gulls wheeled about in the wind, which had a definite edge to it. There were more gulls on the lake, as well as a herd of mute swans and about three dozen dabchicks, which were very distracting as I scanned around for the smew.

Dabchicks

Over on the island the bank was lined with greylags, Canada geese, mallards and coots. Then I struck lucky: there was a smaller, paler object just off the bank with some mallards and tufted ducks. The mallards set off on a cruise by the lake, leaving behind a redhead smew. It quickly dived and I lost it, quickly convincing myself I'd been stringing myself along. Especially when I noticed a juvenile great crested grebe lurking in the vicinity.

Smew

Smew

I walked along the lakeside, scanning the lake all the time. The mallards passed by. And so did a smaller, pale grey object. For the next five minutes the smew gave me cracking views from not very far away, slowly drifting my way. It was about ten yards away when it bobbed back up to the surface and realised I was there. It looked round to see where the mallards had got to and flew over to join them. It was still showing very well near the island when I walked away.

Gadwall

I followed the mallards' example and did a circuit of the lake. A bit further along I noticed a redhead goosander dozing on this end of the island. I was feeling greedy so I started looking for red-breasted mergansers, a couple of them having been reported here yesterday. I wasn't having any luck until I realised that the weird grey shape stretched across a rock was two mergansers sleeping head-to-head. I might have assumed they were young goosanders rather than young mergansers if there hadn't been a goosander dozing a few yards away from them. While I was doing the compare and contrast the mergansers woke up and had a stretch, showing off their distinctly scruffier crests.

Goosander (left) and red-breasted mergansers, bonus dabchick in the bottom right-hand corner

Herring gulls, mute swan and coot

Further along a pair of gadwalls bobbed on the water near the promenade and half a dozen goldeneyes dipped and dived out in midwater. I tiptoed past the crowd of mute swans and greylags at the corner of the lake and carried on round the path. I was on a roll so I checked each and every gull to make sure there weren't any Mediterranean gulls or ring-billed gulls hiding in plain sight (there weren't). Greenfinches, robins and blackbirds rummaged about in the sea buckthorn scrub, carrion crows and magpies seemed not to be bothered that the berries had been frosted and were tucking in with gusto. A couple of handfuls of pink-footed geese flew inland from the salt marsh and headed for the mosses outside town.

Southport Marine Lake 

I'd rather hoped that any twites that were around might have been spending the high tide in the sailing club car park and had stuck around a while for a bath and brush-up. No luck today, I was going to have to search the salt marshes which is a significantly harder job as they can disappear into even tiny clumps of grass.

The salt marsh by Southport Pier

I crossed Marine Drive and had a look over the salt marsh North of the pier as the ebb tide beat a very fast retreat. Starlings and pigeons rummaged about on the near edge of the marsh, scores of shelducks in the grass on the far edge. It was notable that the shelducks were staying in the shelter of the grass out of the wind. A couple of flocks of wigeon wheeled around before heading North towards Marshside while cormorants and herring gulls flew South. A dark line halfway to the distant tideline was a group of cormorants and oystercatchers that had settled to loaf on the tideline five minutes earlier.

I was seeing no twites. Small birds would rise and fall from the marsh, getting my hopes up, but they turned out to be linnets or skylarks. I gave up and started looking for waders. Redshanks could be heard but rarely seen, they were over the far end with the shelducks. I wondered where the curlews were and finally found one stalking the edge of the grass. And was rewarded by four twites flying across my field of view. Not the eighteen near to the road reported earlier in the day but they'll do me.

Southport Pier

The knees, which had been very painful indeed as I walked round the lake, started to move freely. I was taking no bets as to whether that was down to the painkillers I'd taken, the exercise or that I'd lost all feeling below the waist. A walk along the beach as far as the Lifeboat station didn't find very much. I was hoping there were some dunlins and ringed plovers about but the only waders were a dozen oystercatchers huddled in the marsh. There weren't even many gulls, just a handful of black-headed gulls and a few passing getting gulls. A couple of pied wagtails fussed about and kept catching my eye as I looked round. I wondered if it was dreich enough for snow buntings to be around but if there were I didn't see any.

Oystercatchers

As I walked into Southport town centre it became apparent I hadn't lost all feeling below the waist and I rather regretted it. I decided to quit while I was a lot more ahead than I'd expected to be and got the trains home.

---

¹ "Grey-bellied" brent geese breed in high Arctic Canada and may or may not be a subspecies in their own right. They certainly look different to the others, the differences are subtle and not always easy to define, which makes submitting a report on one a challenge, but they look "not quite right."

Mosses

Carrion crows

Yesterday had been a long and busy day, a consolation being that it poured down so I wasn't day-dreaming about the walk(s) what I could have done. (The other consolation being that the agèd relative's eye operation went well.) Today the sun spent the morning playing peek-a-boo before descending into a day of perpetual twilight. I toyed with the idea of trying to do the visit to Leighton Moss that failed the other day but I was just too tired after yesterday and the temptation to sit in the warm listening to the cricket was too strong.

Stumps drawn I dragged myself over to Irlam to get some exercise. I wasn't convinced the weather was going to behave itself so I thought I'd just have a walk on Irlam Moss — up Astley Road and down Roscoe Road — unless the weather perked up a bit. Looking at the clouds the strong, cold wind was scudding over I didn't see much hope of that.

There were no spadgers on Astley Road. I've been told there was some unpleasantness about a lady's garden bird feeders which sounds to have been both unnecessary and inexcusable. 

Astley Road 

All told there wasn't much about until I got to the fields where a few woodpigeons and blackbirds were still finding hawthorn berries in the hedgerow. A small flock of half a dozen chaffinches twittered across the treetops. Carrion crows and black-headed gulls fed on the turf fields and a cock pheasant ran across the grass between hedgerows. A kestrel was sitting on the usual length of telegraph lines, in the murk I wasn't sure if it was a female or an immature bird. 

A mixed tit flock and two blackbirds 

I bumped into a mixed tit flock at the Jack Russell's gate, long-tailed tits and blue tits bouncing through the trees and great tits skulking in the undergrowth, which isn't the usual dynamic. Oddly, I didn't see or hear a single robin. I thought I was meeting another tit flock at the junction with Roscoe Road then I realised the flock I'd seen was doing a circuit: up one side of the road and back down on the other. A single redwing accompanied the blackbirds along this stretch. Couples of goldfinches and greenfinches passed overhead but didn't stop.

Roscoe Road 

The walk down Roscoe Road was very much quieter. A couple of carrion crows rummaged about in the fields by the road. Looking further out there were black-headed gulls and a common gull over by Springfield Lane and the police helicopter spooked a flock of gulls way over on Chat Moss.

On the hour, on the dot, it started pouring down. I headed back to Irlam Station, there'd be plenty of time for a cup of tea there while I waited for the train back. I got the buses home.

Trains stop play

By Burneside Station

It was another bright, sunny morning after a very wet night. It hadn't been on the day's game plan to spend over half an hour stuck at a signal in Trafford Park on my way into Manchester. Which rather scotched the day's plans for a trip out to Leighton Moss, the connections being as they are I'd get an hour in before sunset.

I caught the late-running Blackpool train to try and retrieve something from the day, the Barrow train sits at Preston for quarter of an hour and there was an outside chance we could catch it up (if you look at the timetables there's no chance but I've ridden the rails long enough to know how driver switchover works when there are delays on the network). We just missed it so I kicked my heels waiting for the Windermere train and weighed up the pros and cons of changing at Lancaster and having that hour at Leighton Moss.

The weather turned cooler and greyer as we travelled North and I was dead browned off. I decided to give up and go home via Windermere, my thinking being that an hour or two travelling through a landscape of sheep grazing islands in flooded fields with a backdrop of glowering grey hills merging with glowering grey skies might cheer me up. And so it did.

Merseyside bumper bundle

Preening redshanks, New Brighton

It was a bright, sunny day after a very wet night so I headed for the seaside. The problem with December is that you've no sooner arrived somewhere than the light begins to fade so I'm going to try and "front-load" this month's birdwatching before the short days cramp my style.

I got the Liverpool train, noting the return of woodpigeons along the way and that they were all feeding or loafing in trees and none on the ground. The wariness of newcomers? I'm becoming persuaded that "our" woodpigeons don't come back for the Winter.

New Brighton sea front, Liverpool Docks in the background

At Liverpool I got myself an all areas Saveaway and went to New Brighton, hoping to get purple sandpiper onto the year list. The tide was on the ebb when I arrived at the sea front and there was already plenty of beach for gulls, waders and dog walkers to use.

Herring gull

Herring gulls and black-headed gulls were much in evidence, common gulls and lesser black-backs needed looking for though there were a few about. I just saw the one great black-back. I browsed through the gulls, just in case. My first Bonaparte's gull, Mediterranean gull and my only Laughing gull were at New Brighton and a lad can dream.

Most of the oystercatchers had moved on. Redshanks bathed and preened in pools before flying out to the retreating tideline.

Redshanks

Herring gulls

Dozens of cormorants and herring gulls loafed on the sea defences by the lighthouse. Starlings bustled about on the tops, turnstones and oystercatchers about the bottom. As the tide ebbed the gulls started to drift away, all the quicker when an elderly couple of dog walkers thought it would be a fine idea to climb over the sea defence until they discovered it wasn't.

Cormorants, herring gulls, oystercatchers and great black-back

New Brighton Lighthouse 

A wander round found more gulls, redshanks, turnstones and starlings and crowds of pigeons on the car park. A dozen black-headed gulls dozed on the pontoons. I was disappointed but not surprised not to find any purple sandpipers, the mild Autumn has postponed a lot of Winter visitors.

Next stop was Lunt Meadows, long due a proper visit by me this year. I had twenty minutes to wait for the 133 at Waterloo so I said a quick hello to Crosby Marine Lake where the herring gulls and coots carpeted the grass by the boating pond. A quick look over the pond found coots, mute swans and tufted ducks but I didn't notice any mallards. An equally quick look over the lake found a dabchick fishing on its own out in midwater.

Roughley's Wood 

I got off the 133 at Lunt and had a brief nosy in Roughley's Wood. At first I didn't think the mixed tit flocks were including long-tailed tits then the flock bouncing across the main path included more than two dozen of them. The blue tits were staying in the treetops with goldfinches and chaffinches, the great tits at the bottom of the canopy and the long-tailed tits tended to move between the lower canopy and the undergrowth, which was busy with robins and wrens.

A kestrel was hovering over near the car park to Lunt Meadows. Greenfinches passed low overhead, higher up there was a steady traffic of black-headed gulls and herring gulls heading for the coast.

Lapwings

Lapwings, teals, wigeons and mallards were settling down on the main pool. Shovelers dabbled midwater and a couple of dozen Canada geese cruised about. Moorhens and pied wagtails fussed about the water margins while the coots squabbled in that half-hearted way I associate with sleepy toddlers in a grump.

Lunt Meadows 

I'd walked round for a look over the pool from the screen on the East side, finding myself a goosander hiding in plain sight on the open water. I stepped away from the screen, turned onto the path and came face to face with a short-eared owl sitting on a fencepost almost within arm's reach. The owl slipped sideways from the fence — I don't know any other bird that can fly sideways effortlessly like a short-eared owl can — then slowly circled round and flew over to the open meadow. By this time I'd retrieved my camera and took what is unequivocally the worst photo I have ever taken of an owl. Which I'll be keeping for the memory.

Lunt Meadows 

I got another, more prolonged though distant, view of the owl on the way back as it drifted over the meadow and round the edge of the wood.

Short-eared owl
Not a great picture but substantially better than my first one today.

The chaffinches were going to bed as I walked past Roughley's Wood and the blackbirds were having one last go at the hawthorn berries. As I waited for the bus back to Waterloo the hedgerow fizzed with house sparrows and the big trees on the corner of the road were becoming black with jackdaws. The journey home was nicely uneventful and I was ready for a pot of tea when I got there.

Roughley's Wood