Lazy Sunday afternoon

I refilled all the feeders yesterday, including fat balls and suet blocks as well as the usual sunflower seeds. The spadgers had been dropping hints, the cocks tapping on the windows yesterday to alert me to hungry youngsters staring wistfully into the empty feeders. So I went out for supplies and refilled all the feeders.

Spadgers 

Today they've spent the day sitting in the rambling roses taking a prolonged bath in the rain. They've hardly touched the feeders, they'll get round to it when the fancy comes to them, there's plenty of seeds and berries and insect life to be getting on with. I think it's the principle of the thing with them. I'd have missed the coal tits had I not happened to glance out of the window as they disappeared into the foliage of the rowan tree. The cock emerged briefly, a handsome bird in fresh Autumn plumage with a very rich peachy brown belly the colour of cherry leaves falling in Autumn.

Magpie in the rain

The exciting phase of the Autumn migration is kicking in and while I'm making my plans for next week it's tempting to get over excited. Do I want to boost the year list or do I want to go to All The Places or do I just want to potter about and see what I will see. Or all of the above. And then the unplanned and unexpected will happen so it's anyone's guess. And it's not like I stick to plans anyway.

The wave of waders being reported on the wires include curlew sandpipers all over the shop, a little stint in the usual place at Hoylake and an American golden plover that's skipping to and fro across the Ribble at Freckleton. A flock of glossy ibises passed through Northwest England over the weekend… a flock of glossy ibises passing through Northwest England… and a couple of individuals have lingered around Conder Green and the area round Martin Mere. And there's scaups at Moore and ruddy shelducks at the mouth of the Mersey, a thin passage of black terns and little gulls, and I haven't yet seen any ring ousels, redstarts, spotted flycatchers or crossbills this year. Or tawny owls. Or… 

I'll see what I see.

A Stretford sunset 

A dramatic sunset at the dry end of a very wet day saw the arrival of eighty-odd black-headed gulls on the school playing field. They didn't all settle, when I walked back from the station after not finding any bats there were just four dozen of them with the dozen lesser black-backs.

I'd been back from the station five minutes when the soprano pipistrelles appeared and spent the twilight whizzing round the back garden. Which was nice of them.

Mersey Valley

Blackbird, Sale Water Park 

The spadgers were taking full advantage of the bird baths filled by the overnight rain. What to do with a nice sunny day, I asked myself. I've hurled myself around the Northwest this week so I settled on a gentle potter, walking down to Sale Water Park via Stretford Meadows.

A big flock of pigeons — a coalescence of the expanding flock that suns itself on a roof a few doors down from the station and the dwindling flock from Barton Road — fed on the school playing field with a bunch of jackdaws, magpies and the usual couple of rooks. For once there were no woodpigeons about. A couple more magpies fussed about the station and a robin sang from one of the Pyracantha bushes. They're busy setting up their Winter territories this week.

I walked past the garden centre and joined the path onto Stretford Meadows. The robins singing in the trees by the car park were joined by a chiffchaff. I've seen discussions about why chiffchaffs sing in Autumn but nobody seems to come to a definite conclusion. Perhaps they're getting some practice in and as it's such a simple song they just do the whole thing. I heard a sedge warbler doing a few scratchy notes in the reeds at Leighton Moss yesterday but it was only a couple of seconds each time (I forgot when I was doing last night's writing-up) and I frequently hear Cetti's warblers doing robin-like phrases before eventually bursting into the familiar explosion of song, perhaps warblers — particularly the young birds? — need to practice. Robins certainly do and I'm often confused by willow warbler-like trills that turn out to be robins.

I could hear great tits and blue tits in the trees but couldn't see if they were operating as a flock.

Stretford Meadows 

Out in the open the most conspicuous birdlife was the squadrons of woodpigeons, jackdaws and carrion crows flying to and fro overhead. Parakeets called in the trees over by the cricket ground and magpies fossicked about in the scrub. It's not often I see one stock dove on its own but there one was pecking about in a patch of vetches and short grasses halfway up the rise. 

Stretford Meadows
It's a bit mind-boggling to think of the amount of rubbish there must be under a municipal tip of this height and extent.

Speckled woods and commas fluttered about the blackberries, it was only later I realised there were no large whites about. A few house martins flew by, a couple of starlings flew into town, dunnocks and goldfinches pottered about in hawthorn bushes. I was receiving my fourth 'phone call and getting tetchy about it when a small bird with an alarm call I know but can't recall shot out of the bush I was standing next to and disappeared into the distance.

Speckled wood ready for take off

Buzzard

I'd been hearing a buzzard for ages and finally picked it up soaring very high over the meadows. About a quarter of an hour later it obligingly dropped down and circled over the motorway for a couple of minutes.

The Transpennine Route 

I dropped down onto the Transpennine Route where the cyclists were refreshingly polite and considerate to pedestrians. A song thrush scuttled out of the wayside as I passed by and ran into a bramble patch. A mixed tit flock, mostly long-tailed tits with a few blue tits and I think the pair of great tits were part of the flock, bounced through the willows by the motorway. A nuthatch was calling in the trees by the Chester Road underpass but I couldn't see it. I had no better luck with the one calling in the big willows a hundred yards further down the path. The mixed tit flock here included chiffchaffs and a chaffinch.

Stretford Ees

The path by the tramlines on Stretford Ees was unusually quiet, a chiffchaff at either end and a family of long-tailed tits in the middle. Even the usual parakeets weren't about.

Cormorants, Canada geese, mallards, gadwalls, mute swans and black-headed gulls 

There'd been some water sports activity at Sale Water Park and all the birds were distributed round the edges. Mallards lurked at the reed margins, the drakes nearly entirely out of their eclipse plumage. One of the great crested grebes was asleep just off shore. Over by the slipway the raft was crammed with cormorants, Canada geese and mute swans. Very oddly I couldn't see or hear any coots about.

Mallard

The vegetation at Broad Ees Dole has suddenly shot up and from the hide I could only just see the herons and moorhens on the island and a couple of gadwalls and a teal dabbling in the pool 

Acorns

Chiffchaff 

I walked beside the lake then up Cow Lane to the café. Wrens and chiffchaffs in the hedgerows marked my passing, goldfinches twittered in the hawthorns. A robin having a bath in a puddle was evicted by a blackbird and I waited for them to settle the quarrel and finish bathing before passing them by. The puddle was plenty big enough for both of them.

Blackbird and robin

It was past closing time at the café so I sat on the bench overlooking the feeders watching the crowd of blue tits and great tits tucking in. Robins and dunnocks fossicked about on the ground underneath, one of the robins occasionally flying up to have a go at the fat balls. Every so often a magpie would come in, decide it was too much trouble and flounce off, giving the coal tits the chance of an unchallenged go at the fat balls. A nuthatch came in a few times but the willow tits I was hoping for didn't make an appearance.

Coal tit

I walked down past the motorway to Wythenshawe Road and got the 248 which goes the long way round to the Trafford Centre, giving me the chance to add the swallows hawking round the stables at Carrington to the day's tally. If I'd got the previous bus an hour earlier I'd have made the connection with the train home from Flixton, as it was it made an excellent connection with the 25 at the Trafford Centre. It was sunset as I got home so I pottered over to the station to see if the bats were about and had no luck this time.

Flixton Road 

A day out

Cormorants, tufted ducks, gadwalls, mute swans and a great black-back, Leighton Moss 

The older I get the less I'm inclined to go out cavorting in the rain looking for birds that have the sense to stay indoors and play with jigsaws. Thus it was that when I saw the thunderstorm warnings on the weather forecast I decided I'd try and avoid the rain.

According to the Met Office radar maps Cumbria and North Lancashire were going to miss out on all the fun soI used up one of my cache of complimentary return tickets on a trip out there. I'd aimed at going up to Millom but there's still engineering work on that route and the connections at Barrow don't work at the moment. I worked through the options and decided to take the train to Ulverston, have a potter about for a bit, get the bus to Grange-over-sands, get the train from there and if the weather wasn't too dismal stop off for a quick nosy at Leighton Moss. 

It was a bit dismal when the train left Manchester. There'd been some problem at the airport so the train was setting off from Oxford Road so a normally jam-packed service was like the ghost train. The skies got gloomier and darker as we moved North. It was biblical rain in Lancaster. Then suddenly, as we passed over the Kent Estuary at Arnside, the sun came out. Cumbria had a sunny day. I noticed the first of the wigeons were back on the Eric Morecambe pools.

The salt marsh by the Kent Estuary 

The train slowed to a crawl, almost down to walking speed, on the approach to Grange-over-sands. New land drains were being dug into the salt marsh to try and avoid a repetition of the last few Winter floods. There were plenty of carrion crows and rooks about and two big flocks of Canada geese and greylags. In contrast the crossing over the Leven was much quieter with a small flock of black-headed gulls, a redshank and a mute swan.

I got off at Ulverston and had a potter about, including a visit to the Laurel and Hardy Museum, then got the bus back to Grange. This goes inland over the Leven at Greenodd then following the river to Newby Bridge near Lake Windermere. It's country I don't know so I wanted to check it out. Seeing a goosander sailing down some rapids near Backbarrow was a bonus and a hint that I should add this stretch to my ever-expanding list of All The Places I should have a wander round.

Grange-over-sands, looking over to Silverdale

I had the best part of an hour to wait for the train at Grange-over-sands. I decided to dawdle along the coastal walk and see what was out on Morecambe Bay. Everything was a lot distant, the tide was out and you could see why people are tempted to walk across the bay. Of course, if a tide goes out that far it's a sure bet it comes racing back in later.

Shelducks, Morecambe in the distance 

There were a lot of birds out there, at least half of them black-headed gulls. House martins twittered round the station chimney pots and swallows swooped low over the marsh. A small crowd of lesser black-backs bathed in a pool. Shelducks, mallards and a handful of wigeons dabbled in the mud with curlews, redshanks and crows. Little egrets scuttled about creeks and gullies. Large whites fluttered about, bees and hoverflies buzzed about the sea asters and Southern hawkers hunted midges in mid-air. It was all very agreeable.

Small tortoiseshell

I walked back to the station where the garden was awash with butterflies.

Painted lady 

The next train was the last one straight through to Manchester for a couple of hours. I decided I'd get off at Silverdale and spend that couple of hours having a look round. If the weather was still iffy I could stay in the hides. As it was the weather had perked up considerably.

We crawled past the engineering works again. Inland there were flocks of woodpigeons, jackdaws and Canada geese. I got another nice bonus, this time a kingfisher zipping up the straight cut of the River Winter. There were more Canada geese and greylags on the Kent Estuary together with more than a hundred redshanks.

Chaffinch

The season's change was apparent at Leighton Moss. The feeders were busy with a crowd of titmice and chaffinches, the argy-bargy providing plenty of spillage for the mallards and pheasants hanging about underneath. Nearly all the titmice were in fresh Autumn duds though a few late starters still had a lot of head feathers not quite unsheathed.

Blue tit, not quite finished the post-breeding moult

Coots and gadwalls

The pool at Lilian's Hide was still low but there was enough water for a crowd of gadwalls and coots to fuss about on. The drake gadwalls, all out of eclipse now, were practising their most seductive quacks and whistles to an apathetic audience. A panicky flight of black-headed gulls and mallards way over the reeds heralded the arrival of a marsh harrier which floated over the reedbeds and drifted off back to the causeway. Back on the pool, a great white egret stalked one corner while another loafed by the reeds in the middle of the pool in the company of a heron. In my experience this is quite unusual, herons seem to have no problem with little egrets but get very stroppy with great whites. Anyway, this time there wasn't a problem.

Great white egret 

I was watching a male marsh harrier flying over the distant reeds when the bare tree over by the great black-backs' osprey nesting platform caught my eye. There was a heron sitting on one of the lower branches, which isn't unusual, but the upper branches were festooned with carrion crows and jackdaws. I couldn't work it out until a chap on the other side of the hide said: "Osprey!" I could see there was something where he was indicating but a thick tree trunk was stopping me seeing what it was. I eventually got to confirm for myself it was an osprey when it got fed up of being tormented by corvids and flew off.

Heron, jackdaws and carrion crows
The osprey the crows were tormenting is mostly hidden by the thickest of the tree trunks.

Guelder rose 

I wandered over to the causeway. Mixed tit flocks bounced their way through the trees by the boardwalk, a family of long-tailed tits fussed about in the willows by the causeway.

Causeway pool 

There were crowds of coots and gadwalls on the causeway pool, too. Here they were joined by mallards, tufted ducks and shovelers. There were a couple of teal about in odd corners but the garganey looked to have moved on. For once the great black-back wasn't the big presence on the island as it was dwarfed by a bunch of mute swans.

Cormorants, tufted ducks, mute swans and great black-back

Black-headed gull

Cormorants and gadwalls 

Great black-back, mute swans, cormorants and gadwalls 

Shovelers

There was a panic in the reeds over by the Lower Hide and another marsh harrier flew over the pool and headed out for the reeds beds by the coastal pools. I lingered a while, watching the ducks and gulls and finding a dabchick in the middle of a crowd of coots.

It occurred to me to check the time and it was as well that I did. I had just enough time to get the next Manchester train without having to cut it too fine. On the way back I found a marsh tit with that family of long-tailed tits in the willows, or rather it found me, sneezed in disgust and I saw its rear end disappearing into the leaves. A Cetti's warbler gave a quick explosion of song, the only one I heard all day.

The sun was setting as I got home. I had a scan round to see if the bats were flying around Humphrey Park but there was nothing doing tonight. I mustn't get too greedy.

Gorton Reservoirs

Great crested grebes

It had been an exceedingly wet morning and I spent most of it saying: "The garden's needed it." I needed some exercise so mid-afternoon I got the train into town and then the Sheffield train from Piccadilly with the intention of getting off at Bradbury, Romiley or Marple for to go and take photos of mandarin ducks in the rain at Etherow Country Park. It was while I was deciding which of the three stops made the best bus connection I got off at Reddish North and walked up Gorton Road to Debdale Park. Like you do.

It had become a sunny afternoon when I stepped off the train. I wondered how long it would last. I did well, it didn't start raining again until I was wandering round Debdale Park. It became one of those unhealthy feeling walks where you're either hot and sweaty or cool and clammy depending on the disposition of the clouds and the wind at any given moment.

Debdale Park 

Magpies and woodpigeons ferreted about on the grass, mixed tit flocks bustled through the treetops and grey squirrels dashed across paths.

As the path skirted Lower Gorton Reservoir I could hear the mutterings of coots behind the trees. As the path veered off into the parkland I noticed a rough path cutting through the wayside brambles so I took it to see where it went.

Lower Gorton Reservoir 

It took me directly to the end of Lower Gorton Reservoir on the grass below the dam between the two reservoirs. There wasn't a lot of bird life this end of the reservoir: a few coots, a tufted duck and a dabchick were out on the water and a few mallards lurked by the banks under the trees. I could hear great crested grebes, eventually a pair with a couple of noisy humbugs floated into view. While I was looking for them I noticed that a couple of ducks under a willow just beyond them were teal, not mallards.

All the action was down the other end of the reservoir where Canada geese, black-headed gulls and mute swans were mugging for after-school scraps.

Upper Gorton Reservoir 

I scrambled up to the dam and looked over Upper Gorton Reservoir. A pair of mute swans drifted about the near corner, a couple of great crested grebes could be seen in the distance and a peppering of coots got more intense at the far end.

I hadn't taken the path that runs beside the upper reservoir before so I did today. Chiffchaffs and great tits squeaked in the trees and robins struck poses on fenceposts. Out on the water I was finding a few tufted ducks amongst the coots and the Grebes had humbugs in tow. It struck me yet again how difficult it is to take photos of young great crested grebes without their stripey face patterns bleaching out, in the end I was bracketing the exposure on the camera and hoping for the least worst.

Great crested grebes 

Jays screeched in the trees as they squabbled with a magpie over hawthorn berries. I could hear parakeets over by the Fairfield Loop path but couldn't see them.

I took the path that heads straight to Fairfield Station, sort of regretted it because it's a dead straight walk between high wooden fences and then was glad that I did because the train back to Manchester was due in three minutes. 

The Fylde

Little egret, River Wyre

It looked like being the week's token fine day so I got me an old man's explorer ticket and went for a wander. I've neglected the Fylde this year, I had planned a visit to Skippool Creek but that got iced in favour of hospital visiting, so I thought I'd have a nosy round there, then get a bus somewhere and get back home somehow.

I got off the train at Poulton-le-Fylde and walked up the road to Skippool. I'd just crossed the new dual carriageway when, on a whim, I thought I'd look over the fence to see if there were any wagtails on the creek here. There were no wagtails, just a kingfisher sitting pretty as you please on a branch over the mud. The kingfisher's reactions were quicker than mine and it shot off down the creek like an electric blue bullet.

Wyre Road 

I walked down Wyre Road, the verges busy with large whites and red admirals and the trees busy with great tits and robins. Mallards dabbled and dozed in the creek and a little egret picked its way below the moored boats.

Skippool Creek 

It was low tide and when I looked between the banks of the creek where it ran into the river I could see hundreds of gulls and waders loafing on the mud. A crowd of herring gulls with a few lesser black-backs littered a high bank on the far side of the river, a couple of common gulls hiding in plain sight and a great black-back standing to one side. Black-headed gulls fussed about. Sleeping lapwings were distant dumpy silhouettes, the golden plovers amongst them catching the light as I changed position. A couple of curlews waded through the rills and puddles though it was a whimbrel I spotted first. The only green sandpiper of the day flew across the mouth of the creek and disappeared under a bank.

Curlew

By Wyre Road 

I walked along the road, keeping an eye on the river as I went. This involved a lot of peeping across the marsh between boats and jetties at distant objects. Crowds of redshanks fussed and fed by mud banks, a bar-tailed godwit strode across the mud, a distant line of brown lumps became sleeping curlews. The house sparrows, great tits and robins in the hedgerow by the road were vocal and noisy and kept well under cover. Southern hawkers patrolled the marsh. Occasionally a gigantic dragonfly would fly by and turn out to be two mating hawkers flying and hunting as they copulated.

Redshanks

River Wyre

River Wyre

At the sailing club I got a clearer view of the river, though most of the birds were still distant. There were hundreds of redshanks and dozens of curlews. Every bend in the mud banks had a little egret or two, a crowd of redshanks and a few oystercatchers, every rise on the other side of the river its loafing gulls and cormorants. Rooks and carrion crows fossicked about, a shelduck dabbled in a pool.

Spot the wren

I joined the Stanah Tramper Trail and followed the river downstream. The sea asters were looking blousy and the thistle exhausted but the bees and butterflies were finding enough to get by with. Charms of goldfinches twittered in the hedgerows and swallows twittered in the rigging of the boats moored on the marsh.

Swallows

Sea lavender 

Ordinarily, when I get to the fork in the trail I carry on down into Stanah and get a bus from there. Today, on a whim, I took the path to the right and walked round into the Wyre Estuary Country Park.

River Wyre

Stanah Tramper Trail 

The marshy gap between the path and the river got wider and soon it was out of view. Rooks and jackdaws clamoured in the fields between the path and Stanah. Goldfinches, linnets and swallows twittered over the marsh, chiffchaffs and dunnocks squeaked in the hedgerow and robins sang from small pathside trees. Speckled woods and red admirals fluttered about the hedgerow, a painted lady joined the large whites on the sea asters. More Southern hawkers patrolled the marsh, daring me to try and get their photos. A raven called from the heights of an electricity pylon and was answered across the river.

Painted lady 

Damsons

I followed the path through a glade of damson trees and got to the car park. A voice in the back of my head said I could carry on along the riverside path to Fleetwood. My knees suggested the voice in the back of my head has a screw loose. I decided to head into Stanah for the bus. The 24 to Blackpool was scheduled to arrive ten minutes before the 24 to Fleetwood so I waited for that and they arrived together, both running late. I headed to Blackpool for a bit of seawatching by the North Pier.

Herring gull 

It had clouded over by the time we arrived in Blackpool and it was feeling decidedly cooler. I got me a seat on the steps by the North Shore and started looking round. The tide was coming in and the pigeons and herring gulls were tidying the beach of picnic detritus while they could. A pied wagtail flitted about the promenade. 

Lake District from Blackpool North Shore

Most of the gulls close to shore were herring gulls. Nearly all the lesser black-backs were juveniles and there were a lot more of them out to sea and all looking very dark against the water. Every so often, way out, a dark object would turn out to be a passing cormorant. I'd concluded that all the dark gull-shaped objects flying by in the distance were juvenile lesser black-backs when one about half a mile out caught my eye because it was a lot barrel-chested and the wings weren't quite right. I'd concluded that it was just another lesser black-back the victim of wishful thinking when the bird crossed a sheen of sunlight which caught pale patches on the bases of the flight feathers of an otherwise all-dark bird. A skua, barrel-chested and short-tailed, a great skua. "Bonxie!" I said to myself. 

Herring gulls and lesser black-back 

I looked in vain for shearwaters, though I suspect they were out there to be found by telescope. A couple of possible Arctic skuas would probably have been gulls through a telescope I told myself. Juvenile Sandwich terns chased after their parents. There was a crossing of ducks as three distant eiders flew left and an equally distant common scoter flew right.

Blackpool North Pier

I gave it an hour and decided to call it a day. I walked round to Blackpool North and got the next train home. I hadn't milked the full value out of the old man's explorer ticket but I'd had a full day's birdwatching and it had been very productive and I was ready for my tea.