Starmount Lodges

Canada goose and dark-bellied brent goose

The morning calmed down after a ferociously wet night and became that mixture of sun, cloudy and showers that is the most uncomfortable option available to English weather. I was all for lolling about drinking tea and reading the personal columns of Ally Sloper's Half Holiday but I kept noticing the reports of a brent goose near Bradley Fold, just down the road from where I was yesterday. A brent goose in this region in June is unlikely. A brent goose in Greater Manchester any time of the year is unlikely. Together they proved irresistible. 

Hundreds of thousands of wild geese spend the Winter in the UK and there's always a few that miss the bus when they all leave. Usually it's due to an injury, when they recover there's no incentive for them to migrate so they mooch around waiting for the gang to come back next Autumn. Which is why it's not unusual to find an occasional pink-footed goose or whooper swan hanging out with the wildfowl over the Summer in Northwest England. I didn't have brent goose on my bingo card.

I got the train to Bolton and into the bus interchange. I'd just missed the 471 but the 511 was due in ten minutes and that suited me better, it goes round the houses a bit on its way to Bury and along the way it stops close to Starmount Lodges where the Brent Goose was hanging out with some Canada geese. It also meant I wasn't trying to cross Bury New Road on a Saturday afternoon.

I got off the bus at Bideford Drive. Across the road a gap between the houses was the footpath that would lead me to my quarry. It passed into some light woodland beside Blackshaw Brook and onto Banks Lane. Blackbirds and blackcaps and chiffchaffs sang in the trees and further down the brook a song thrush was drowning out all rivals. A family of long-tailed tits bounced about in the trees by the bridge over the brook. Dunnocks, wrens and chaffinches joined the songscape on Banks Lane where the robins silently rummaged about the verges. I caught a glimpse of one of the lodges through the trees, a pair of mute swans had cygnets still on the nest though looking ready for their first swim round.

The bridge over Blackshaw Brook 

Starmount Lodges 

I tiptoed past the house sparrows on Browns Road and entered the lodges. Moorhens, a couple of black-headed gulls and a mallard were keeping the anglers company on the nearest lodge but there was no sign of any geese. I followed the path and up onto the bund that contains the little reservoir there. There were a couple of dozen Canada geese, some with goslings, and there was the brent goose tagging along with a couple of Canada geese cruising round the pool. I've never seen the two species side by side before, I know brent geese are small geese but this really brought it home.

Canada goose and dark-bellied brent goose 

Dark-bellied brent goose 

Canada geese and dark-bellied brent goose 

I watched the performance for a few minutes then had a look down into the pool with the cygnets. The parents were obviously trying to coax them into the water and the cygnets were just as obviously reluctant. A family of coots fussed about in one corner, a pair of mallards with one young duckling in another. Just to demonstrate the bad temper of your average coot, one of the parents left the family gathering to go and bash a moorhen that had had the colossal nerve to walk down from the far bank of the pool for a swim.

Mute swan and cygnets 

Juvenile moorhen

Black-headed gull 

I walked back to Browns Road. A few black-headed gulls floated low over the lodges, a blackbird sang and spadgers fossicked about the hedge bottoms. Ordinarily I'd have taken this as an opportunity to walk over to Elton Reservoir for a nosy round but the weather was heavy and sweaty and the journey home would have gotten me embroiled in the crowds going to Parklife at Heaton Park. It made more sense to walk up to Bury New Road and get the 471 back to Bolton and thence home.

The weather cleared along the way. My train home wasn't affected by the tree that fell on the line, a coal tit was singing at the station. I spent half an hour looking for the cat only to find she'd been where she always is in the front garden but covered by grass and hardy geranium stems like Babes In The Wood. I had wondered why the young jackdaws and magpies were barracking on next door's fence. A cock sparrow brought the latest batch of spadgelings to the feeders in the back garden, the dunnock joined the wren, robin and blackbird in the songscape, a red admiral tried to chase a goldfinch off the seed feeders before going into battle with a rival over the blackcurrant bushes, it wasn't a bad end to the day.

Coots

A better June for butterflies

I'd been thinking that it had been a much better year for butterflies than last year, all that fine Spring weather must have had some effect. So I had a look at my records. And it has been.

(The numbers are for number of sightings, not number of butterflies, I've only had a quick dip in the stats.)

Number of butterfly sightings recorded

Number of species seen

Year-on-year figures are looking similarly more positive.

Number of sightings recorded 

Number of species seen

I'm only a casual observer so this isn't a definitive sample but it looks encouraging.

Seven Acres Country Park

Jay, Duncan Wood

Yesterday's very high pollen count and high humidity had cut my strings but I thought I needed to make an effort today. I headed into Bolton with the idea that I'd take a walk through Leverhulme Park and Moses Gate Country Park and try and make sure I did as much as possible of that in the shade. 

As I got off the bus at Stephen Street, next to the Lancashire Wildlife Trust resource centre and the entrance to Seven Acres Country Park it occurred to me that although I've gone past here scores of times I've never had a look at it. It seemed as good a time as any to rectify that.

Rosario's Pond 

I followed the path by Rosario's Pond next to the resource centre which was lively with midges and whirligig beetles but not damselflies or dragonflies. I was a bit underwhelmed by the woodland walk at first, a song thrush and a blackbird sang over the traffic noise but I wasn't seeing or hearing any small birds. I passed a heavily vegetated little pond where a common blue damselfly zipped around and an unidentifiable dragonfly with a shot of blue about it patrolled the undergrowth. Then the path dropped down to Bradshaw Brook and the fun began.

Coal tit

It was fairly young woodland with a dense understory. Wrens, robins, blackbirds and blackcaps sang in the trees. I hadn't gone far when I bumped into my first mixed tit flock of Autumn: families of blue tits, great tits, long-tailed tits and coal tits bouncing round the trees in the company of nuthatches, chiffchaffs and blackcaps. I stood and watched them for ten minutes, they paid no heed to me save to flit out of shot whenever the camera got them in focus. They were ruthless and restless hunters, rummaging about on mossy tree trunks, gleaning from leaves and darting out to catch insects on the wing.

Juvenile blue tit

The path followed the twists and turns of the brook as it headed upstream. The brook was running fast and shallow, burbling over shoals and pebbles. I chided myself for wishful thinking about grey wagtails then turned a corner to find one having a bath.

Grey wagtail

The path carried on. Sometimes the brook dropped out of sight behind the undergrowth, there was a stretch where the far side was constrained by the retaining wall of a factory then brook and path both lurched to the east into the woodland. 

Bradshaw Brook 

Brambles

Here and there the trees thinned out a little and the path was lined with densely flowering brambles, nearly all big and white-flowered, a few smaller, pink-flowered types sheltering under oak trees, and bumblebees and hoverflies buzzing about. In the light shade it was all ferns and hogweeds and Himalayan balsam with occasional stands of sweet cicely along the brook side. Speckled woods and large whites fluttered about by the shady lengths of path, red admirals and small tortoiseshells about the brambles. Along the way I bumped into a couple of smaller mixed tit flocks that tended to keep to the oak canopy.

Small tortoiseshell 

A juvenile chiffchaff that tagged along with a family of long-tailed tits by the pathside didn't notice me coming along and when it did finally notice it didn't much care. It's not often you get any wild bird too close for the camera to focus on easily as it fidgets about, let alone a warbler. I eventually had it nicely framed in a profile shot with the yellow gape at the base of its bill showing well when it noticed a passing fly…

Juvenile chiffchaff

It's an odd thing: Bradshaw Brook gets bigger as you go upstream here. I carried on and crossed the bridge over the brook when I got to it. The hayfever had been behaving itself so I didn't walk through the meadows to the car park, I carried on walking by the brook. A pair of blackcaps looked and sounded as if they had mouths to feed. Another long-tailed tit family passed by, then a mixed flock of blue tits and great tits. Young wrens retreated into the brambles when told to by a scolding parent.

Approaching Thicketford Road 

The landscape opened out on the approach to the bridge carrying Thicketford Road. A couple of mallards dabbled amongst the water crowfoot as I passed.

I had about twenty minutes to wait for either the 561 or 562 bus back to Bolton. I wondered if the path continued along the brook. There was a cut in the wall with steps leading up to the housing estate, I had a nosy and yes, there was a path down. It didn't take me directly to the brook, instead it passed through a meadow dotted with oak trees. Blackbirds and wrens sang and bullfinches wheezed in the trees.

By Bradshaw Brook

In my experience it's unusual for a jay to fly over to have a look at you.

It soon became apparent how the oak trees got planted. A jay bounced through the trees as wrens and robins scolded their displeasure. I wasn't sure if it was the same jay I was seeing a little further along. It spotted me and instead of doing the usual jay thing of either melting into the background or flying off in a huff it flew over to have a better look at me.

Jay

It turned out I wasn't anything special so it went back to fossicking about in the tree roots.

Jay

The path entered Duncan Wood and the woodland became denser as it neared the brook. My first sight of the brook coincided with a dumpy bird shape that could have been a kingfisher or a dipper but was convincingly neither shooting downstream. Dunnocks, nuthatches and a song thrush sang in the trees, blue tits and great tits bounced by, I got scolded by a treecreeper as I passed too close to something I didn't see.

Duncan Wood 

The path split. I followed it along the brook until it petered out at the end of a wall. I retraced my steps and followed the path up a steep climb through the trees. I'd promised myself no climbing this week. The ground leveled out and I checked the maps. It looked like I should be able to join the path from Bottom o'th'Moor along the brook to Longsight Park and thence the bus back to Bolton. The first path I followed round led to a precipitous descent down to the brook that wasn't inviting to an old man with dodgy knees. 

No.

The alternative was closed due to a landslide. 

Also no.

I took the hint and walked down Bottom o'th'Moor and got the 507 back to Bolton.

Reservoir Wednesday

Juvenile pied wagtail, Hollingworth Lake
It's not often you get close enough and they sit still enough to be able to see the yellow gape at the side of the beak.

It was a warm, sunny morning so I thought I'd go for a gentle stroll. A long-tailed duck had been recorded at Hollingworth Lake but had disappeared overnight. No matter, the report reminded me I've not been there in ages and it's a nice, gentle stroll. And if the pollen count's going be high a Pennine reservoir is a fair way of hiding from the worst of it.

I got the train to Smithybridge and walked up to the lake, the slope irritating the knee more than the ankle but the exercise was getting the movement back into the joints. Along the way there was the bonus of a handful of Southern marsh orchids in the grass verge, which was nice to see. Blackbirds, spadgers, starlings and dunnocks rummaged around in front gardens, jackdaws and woodpigeons clattered about the rooftops and swifts screamed about the chimney tops. There were dozens of swifts, showing the advantage of having a huge body of midgey water up the road.

Hollingworth Lake

The lake was, understandably, very busy. Which didn't bother the house sparrows flitting about between the gardens and the bankside. Nor the young pied wagtails overly much though the adults were a lot more skittish. A huge raft of Canada geese cruised the lake in between boatloads of kids learning how to row like Vikings. Most of the gulls on the water were lesser black-backs, there were handfuls of herring gulls and black-headed gulls. The hedgerow songscape was mostly blackbirds with a few blackcaps and chiffchaffs near the houses and gardens, robins and great tits out by the fields. Out in the fields to the South reed buntings, greenfinches and chaffinches sang in the hawthorn bushes.

Looking South from the lake

The path to Shaw Moss, with jackdaw

The crowds were feeling a bit oppressive so I took a time out by taking a walk part of the way along the path to Shaw Moss. It was very quiet of people but noisy with singing woodpigeons and wrens. Magpies and blackbirds rummaged about in the fields and a lot of greenfinches flitted about in the hawthorn bushes. It feels good to be able to write: "A lot of greenfinches." Oddly there weren't any hirundines about, I was expecting to see some swallows at least around the cattle sheds. The non-appearance of swallows where I'm expecting them is getting to be a point of concern.

I wandered back to the lake, got myself a lemon sorbet to give myself an ice cream headache and carried on with my circumlocution.

The nature reserve 

The hide in the nature reserve was busy but there were plenty enough gaps in the trees to see what was about. A few mallards and their ducklings dabbled about in the company of some moorhens and magpies. Out on the beach about forty gulls — two lesser black-backs for every herring gull, plus a couple of black-headed gulls — loafed with a handful of very vocal oystercatchers.

The lake by Rakewood Road

I carried on walking up to Rakewood Road and found out where the hirundines were. A commotion over the houses across the field was house martins chasing off a kestrel. As I walked down the road a flock of swallows descended on the beach across the road and hawked low over the water's edge, keeping out of the way of the gulls while they did so. The balance of things was restored. Further reassurance was the meadow brown butterflies fluttering about the fields on my side of the road.

By Rakewood Road 

The 456 bus was due in ten minutes so I waited and got that into Wardle for a walk up to Watergrove Reservoir to see what was about. It turned out that what was about was a film crew and the Eastern end of the reservoir was off-limits. Which was no great hardship, there's good walking away from there.

Watergrove Reservoir 

Lesser black-backs 

The water was low here, too, and a couple of dozen lesser black-backs loafed on the spit that had emerged. A pair of great crested grebes drifted midwater and dozens of Canada geese congregated on the far bank. Willow warblers and blackbirds sang in the trees down below and a buzzard slowly floated overhead and headed for the hills.

Pied wagtail 

A family of pied wagtails skittered about the base of the reservoir wall. I could see a wader further along and assumed it was a redshank. I eventually caught up with it and was surprised to find it was a greenshank. There's been a passage of waders, mostly sanderlings, over the Pennines recently, this bird might be a part of it.

Greenshank 

I had five minutes' sit down on a bench to check my notes and assess the aches and pains and was surprised to find that the notes were copious and the aches and pains minimal. That being the case I decided not to drop back down into Wardle for the bus, instead I'd have a stroll over the hill into Whitworth. It was just the right weather for it and it's a walk that's easy on the knees with soft ground and climbing not compulsory. As I got up from the bench I noticed a grey wagtail feeding a fledgling at the top of the step bridge overflow.

Grey wagtails

Heading for Slack Gate

It was a very pleasant walk, just what I needed. Blackbirds and robins sang from the trees and skylarks and meadow pipits sang from the moorland. Rooks and jackdaws fossicked about around the sheep, carrion crows flew about the slopes, magpies popped up anywhere. 

There'd evidently been a mass emergence of burnet moths, they littered patches of ragged robin and lady's bedstraw, hardly letting the small tortoiseshells and common blues get a look in at the flowers.

Five-spotted burnet moth on ragged robin 

Common blue 

This path becomes Slack Gate

Slack Gate
It gets posher further along.

I walked along Slack Gate to the radiating confusion of paths near the golf club. Usually I walk down Whitworth Rake into Whitworth for the bus into Rochdale. Today I opted for the bridleway to Syke, just out of curiosity.

The bridleway to Syke

The bridleway follows the route of the feeder stream for Brown House Wham Reservoir (people think I make these names up). Blackbirds, chaffinches and skylarks sang and there was at least one Canada goose on the little reservoir by Springside Farm.

Brown House Wham Reservoir 

Willow warblers, meadow pipits and wrens joined the songscape at Brown House Wham Reservoir, a couple of drake mallards pottered about on the water. 

Fanny Brook 

The bridleway became Dirty Leech, became Limers Gate then became Dewhirst Road and I was heading into Syke for the bus into Rochdale. Of course, I'd forgotten how bad the traffic is on Whitworth Road, I spent most of the next hour sitting on that bus as it crawled down the road. And even that couldn't take the gloss off a very good day's walking.