Cob Kiln Wood

Robin

Another cloudless day and there were errands to run. Being a keen amateur idle beggar, once they were done and dusted I was inclined to spend the rest of the day in a state of prostration but persuaded myself into a teatime stroll round Cob Kiln Wood.

It was still warm and sunny so I was a little concerned that there were so few butterflies about, and all they large whites. I was even more concerned at the state of the little pond by Old Eeas Brook, which itself was running low.

The pond

Cob Kiln Wood 

A couple of robins having a singing match near the brook were having trouble making themselves heard above the song thrushes and blackbirds. There were more of all three singing in the woods together with blackcaps, wrens, chiffchaffs and chaffinches. They were joined by an occasional woodpigeon, the vast majority of the woodpigeons were feeding in the fields. Goldfinches twittered about in the trees, blue tits and great tits flitted about in the shadows. Jackdaws, carrion crows and a pair of parakeets flew overhead.

The electricity pylon clearing 

The hum of bees on the comfrey flowers of the electricity pylon clearing in the bright sunshine made a pleasant change from the more usual hum of the electricity lines on a damp, cloudy day. For all that there were no butterflies. And scarce any birds save a great spotted woodpecker objecting to me from the birch scrub and a couple of lesser black-backs flying overhead.

River Mersey 

I walked down Cob Kiln Lane to the river, the blackcaps, blackbirds and wrens singing me on my way. I wasn't expecting much from the river, it turned out to be busy. Woodpigeons and carrion crows were bathing by the Cheshire bank, mallards dozed beneath the Lancashire bank. Way downstream a dozen half-grown redhead goosanders followed a couple of adults down the bend of the river out of sight and two families of mallards with ducklings swam over the shoals past a couple of Canada geese. One goosander broke off from the crowd and swam upstream.

A lone redhead goosander came steaming upstream…

…Then noticed the weir under the bridge.

It decided it would swim up the salmon ladder…

…and then thought better of it.

Eventually it climbed up the steps of the weir and swam off towards Stretford.

I walked a little way down Banky Lane to see if I could hear any whitethroats in the fields, having not heard any in the bramble scrub where the path to Urmston Cemetery branches off Cob Kiln Lane. I didn't, only hearing the woodpigeons flying about the trees at the edges.

Cob Kiln Lane 

I crossed back over and walked down Cob Kiln Lane into Urmston. The songscape was added to by a singing great tit and the sad wheezing of a bullfinch. I scanned the horse paddocks along the way for any swallowls but was disappointed. A passing house Martin and a buzzard provided a bit of consolation.