Chorlton

Heron, Chorlton

Noises in the rambling rose suggest the first lot of baby spadgers have arrived though I couldn't see any of them. The feeders under the rowan tree are largely hidden by new growth on the rose and the nearby dogwood, both of which are due for a severe chopping back after they've flowered. The feeders by the washhouse are being visited but I've only been seeing the adult males here so far.

It was another glorious day so I thought I'd have a walk along the Mersey. I got the bus to the stop on the Chorlton Boundary and wandered onto Turn Moss and thence onto Hawthorn Lane where the song thrush competed with the robins, blackbirds, blackcaps and chiffchaffs in the trees.

Hawthorn Lane 

Whitethroats and carrion crows added to the songscape as I crossed Ivy Green, though they kept well under cover. I'm always suspicious when I can hear crows but not see them, like when you're at a family get-together and all the small kids disappear but can be heard giggling. I've no idea what they were up to. 

Ivy Green 

I had hoped a walk across the meadow would find me a few butterflies. My butterfly sightings are well up on last year, which was a disastrous Summer for them across the country, but they're still not in the numbers I would have hoped for this time of year. It might take a couple of decent Summers for them to recover. An absence of meadow browns is beginning to make itself conspicuous. An absence of any butterflies at all on the meadow was worrying, it came as a relief to bump into some large whites and a small white at the woodland margin at the other end.

Hay meadow, Chorlton Ees

There were a few more large whites and some speckled woods in the woodland by Chorlton Brook and on Chorlton Ees. And plenty more blackbirds, blackcaps, chiffchaffs, robins and whitethroats though it was the devil's own job seeing any of them and the only small bird I saw well was a garden warbler in a hawthorn bush. I had as much trouble looking over the hay meadow, two pheasants were having a punch-up in the middle of the meadow and the grass was too high for me to see them. It's going to be hard work when everything goes quiet for the post-breeding moult. I shall, of course, blame my lack of success on the hayfever rather than poor fieldcraft.

Another day, another buzzard being chased by a carrion crow 

The robins and blackcaps either side of the river at Jackson's Boat vied loudly with each other and almost drowned out the chiffchaffs and greenfinches. It was today I finally realised that the reason why I haven't seen parakeets nesting in the old telegraph pole by the bridge is that they took the pole down last year. I had a baffling five minutes watching five tiny ducklings by the Cheshire bank of the river and wondering how they came to be alone. Their mother was out of view under the Lancashire bank but swam out to join the brood when some carrion crows started getting noisy. I wasn't surprised to find them harrying a buzzard. A drake mallard was pottering about by the pub.

Mallard, Jackson's Boat 

River Mersey 

It was a quiet walk down the river. There was one of the grey wagtails by Jackson's Boat, the wagtail at their usual favoured spot was a female pied wagtail. A few chiffchaffs and blackcaps and sang in the hedgerows, whitethroats sang on the golf courses, a couple of drake mallards dabbled on the river. A heron lurked on the bank amidst backlit grasses. Some orange tips and brimstones provided a bit of variety to the large whites fluttering along the verges.

Barlow Tip 

I lurched into the path that joins Barlow Tip by the golf course and followed a path I nearly always avoid. In Winter and Spring it's usually impassible because of shin-deep mud, in Summer and Autumn because of brambles and Himalayan balsam. It made a nice change to walk it. The warblers were camera-shy but at least I managed to spot a few of them: another garden warbler, a couple of chiffchaffs and a blackcap with a green caterpillar that would choke a hippopotamus. I had good cause to be disappointed in my inability to get to grips with hoverflies and solitary bees: they were legion, the hawthorn blossoms, cow parsleys and dogwoods were buzzing with them. I'm trying to bring to mind what the scent of dogwood flowers reminds me of, it's something to do with my time working in a museum and it isn't floor polish or chloroform.

Barlow Tip 

I joined the service path then climbed over the rise and down to Chorlton Water Park. Common blue damselflies danced around my ankles as I brushed past the sedges and long grass. All the butterflies were large whites. Most of the singing was done by a blackcap and a chiffchaff with backing vocals from a dunnock and a whitethroat.

Chorlton Water Park 
The white in the trees isn't blossom, it's willow seeds

I dropped down into Chorlton Water Park. A few Canada geese, mallards and a couple of mute swans mooched about this end of the lake with a handful of coots. Walking round there were more Canada geese, more coots, more swans. It wasn't until I was on my way home I realised there were no tufted ducks. Over by the far bank a pair of mute swans had a couple of cygnets. A couple of reed warblers sang in the depths of almost non-existent reedbeds, each perhaps a square foot of reeds mixed into patches of great willowherb and purple loosestrife. 

Ring-necked parakeets

A comma was a nice break from the monotony of pierid butterflies. It put a lot of energy into chasing brimstones off its territory. I'd been hearing parakeets all afternoon, the only ones showing themselves were the ones on the car park feeders.

Comma

It had been another of those slow-noisy sort of walks where I had been doing most of my birdwatching by ear. Which is perfectly okay, by the way. I got myself an ice cream and walked up the road for the bus home.

Chorlton Water Park