Stretford Meadows

Robin
I was standing still by the cricket pitch waiting for the end of the over when this robin flew onto the branch by my shoulder and sang at me to let me know I was on its patch. At the end of the over it escorted me on my way.

It was a cooler, cloudier day and the wind had an edge to it, pleasant walking weather. I decided I'd spend some time on Stretford Meadows looking for warblers. To be honest, I didn't think they'd need much looking for but I wanted to see what was about, with any luck the lesser whitethroats might have arrived.

Walking by the garden centre the hedges were bustling with spadgers. Blackcaps, chiffchaffs and blackbirds sang in the trees by the Transpennine Route path.

Stretford Meadows
The West end.

I walked into the meadows and lingered by the birch scrub at the entrance for a couple of minutes hoping to hear a willow warbler. It's years since I last heard one here and I didn't hear one today. I hear them in less promising locations elsewhere, perhaps an undergrowth dominated by great willowherbs doesn't meet their needs.

Stretford Meadows 
The line of trees follows the brook.

For a change, and because I wanted to give the meadows a thorough going-over today I decided not to climb the rise. Instead I followed the meandering paths through the scrub and woodland around the margins. Sometimes, like by the cricket pitch, the paths are close to the edge of the meadows, other times they twist round and climb nearly onto the rise before dropping back down again to the edges. This provides a variety of habitats from the thin birch and alder scrub at the West end with the thick patch of fenced-off woodland by the little brook, through open country dominated by willowherbs and brambles, thin patches of mature trees with little understory and the open country at the East end dominated by hawthorns. 

Alder beetles
If you ever wonder why alder leaves look like they've been peppered with buckshot, these are the culprits.

Wrens and robins sang in the woodland by the brook and a pair of ring-necked parakeets made a racket. Titmice went about their business silently, the long-tailed tits being actively furtive, only breaking cover to move between bushes. Speckled woods and large whites skittered about the edges by the path.

Crossing the open country between the brook and the cricket pitch on paths that usually go squelch I looked out for any signs of orchids. It's a few weeks early for flowers but everything seems ahead of itself so it was worth a look. It also gave me the opportunity to try and find out where the pheasants were calling from though I had no luck seeing them. Goldfinches twittered about and magpies rummaged in the grass. I got a bit confused by the small whites feeding on the cuckoo flowers which are the caterpillar food plant of the orange tips which were chasing each other round stands of great willowherb. A couple of whitethroats sang, favouring the bramble patches incorporating good-sized hawthorn bushes.

Bramble
I know I bang on about the biodiversity of brambles but here's a case in point. There was a patch of these little brambles. At first I thought the flowers had gone over but looking more closely I found buds just breaking that didn't have any petals either.

Stretford Meadows
By the cricket pitch.

Blackbirds, blackcaps, chiffchaffs and robins sang in the trees by the cricket pitch. The blue tits and great tits foraging in the young oaks at the edge of the scrub were almost invisible despite the leaves having barely broken open. There was less cover for them in the mature trees on the boundary by the houses. 

Cut-leaved cranesbill
Dramatic leaves, tiny pink flowers.

I lost count of the number of chiffchaffs, blackcaps and whitethroats, well more than a dozen, probably more than twenty of each. They were tricky to see, unlike the blackbirds and wrens which flitted about the undergrowth by the paths. As I walked through the hawthorn scrub at the East end the songs of the warblers were punctuated by the calls of jackdaws overhead and sometimes drowned out by the song thrushes singing from oak saplings.

Stretford Meadows 
The East end.

Three song thrushes were having a singing duel at the Southeast corner, one in a sapling amongst the hawthorn scrub, one in a stand of trees by the motorway and one in the hedgerows by the Transpennine path. I could barely hear the whitethroats and chiffchaffs competing with them and there was something else struggling to be heard. I got lucky, the lesser whitethroat was singing in the brambles by the Transpennine path. I stood still, watching the ends of bramble stems twitch as the bird bounced about under cover and picking out its rushed, scratchy song out of the background blare of the thrushes.

There were a few of these hawthorns on the meadows. At first I thought they opened pink and faded to white or vice versa but the buds can be pink or white, even in the same cluster.

Stretford Meadows 

Further along there were more whitethroats, blackcaps and chiffchaffs in the bushes. A pair of bullfinches skulked in the hedgerow. Every so often a reed bunting sang from a hawthorn or a birch sapling. I watched a raven soaring high on the thermals above the motorway, which is how I noticed there was a thin southbound passage of swallows. It was approaching teatime and the woodpigeons started to head for the trees. I was surprised I'd been wandering round a couple of hours.

By the stables
The guinea fowl weren't for having their photos taken.

For a change I took the side path between the stables and the motorway that leads to Loretto Road. This time of year it gets a bit damp but there was no danger of that today. I was rewarded with more blackcaps, chiffchaffs, whitethroats, blackbirds and robins. The swallows passing overhead flew lower and twittered as they went by. Another pair of bullfinches rummaged about in the brambles by the path with a couple of dunnocks. A bird hovering over the motorway interchange turned out to be a buzzard, I hadn't seen any sign of the usual kestrels today.

The path emerged onto Loretto Road and I reminded myself I had to turn left into the dead end for the quick way out to Stretford Road. It had been a good walk and the absence of willow warblers and garden warblers was made up for by an abundance of chiffchaffs, blackcaps and whitethroats.