Woolston Eyes

Moorhen and chicken, Woolston New Cut 

I thought it might be no bad idea to avoid the bank holiday crowds. A golden oriole has been reported at Woolston Eyes. I had little hope of hearing, let alone seeing, it and it hadn't been reported again after first discovery but it was an excuse for a pleasant walk in agreeable surroundings.

Blackbird, Woolston New Cut

It was a grey and cloudy and decidedly cool day, the wind keeping that cutting edge to it. I got the train to Padgate, walked down to the brook and walked down the brook to Paddington Green and thence down the New Cut to Woolston Weir. Blackbirds, robins and dunnocks skittered around on the paths when they weren't singing in the hedgerows with the blackcaps, pairs of blue tits and great tits silently went about their business, woodpigeons and magpies clattered about, wrens jumped out of hiding, exploded in song and disappeared again. I don't know if it's a trick of memory but there seems to be a lot more birdsong this year even though the dawn choruses are more thinly attended.

Woolston New Cut 

There wasn't a lot of water left in the canal cut and that smothered in willow down. A family of moorhens fossicked about in the mud as I passed Grey Mist. Over on Grey Mist itself I spotted a pair of not-so-very-young coots, full grown but still being fed by their parents.

Great crested grebes and tufted ducks, Woolston Weir 

A pair of great crested grebes were nesting just upstream of the gates at Woolston Weir. A couple of tufted ducks and a shelduck dozed close by while a pair of gadwall hugged the far bank.

Herring gull, Woolston Weir
A puzzle at this angle…

Another pair nested just downstream of the gates where the river branches out, despite the congregation of a dozen very noisy lesser black-backs. A herring gull loafing beside them looked a bit out of place and somehow "not right" from the bridge across the gate but looked like a perfectly ordinary herring gull from the top of the rise on the other side. The different a change of angle and the drop of water falling off the end of the beak make.

…a dead straightforward herring gull from this

Walking along the path down to the Ship Canal Cetti's warblers joined the chorus of blackcaps, whitethroats, chiffchaffs and robins.

River Mersey side-branch, No.3 Bed on the other side

The flowers on some of the brambles by the path weren't a lot smaller than dog roses

Mute swans and mallards cruised the canal, a couple of cormorants sat by the side looking very alert though I was blessed if I could see how they'd see anything in the choppy water.

Cormorant, Manchester Ship Canal
I was cursing the background noise until I realised that was the picture.

I turned into the path to the bridge, let myself in through the locked gate and walked over into the reserve. The last time I did this I only went as far as midway across the bridge to get a photo of the ferruginous duck. Today I thought I'd best explore the Southern half of No.3 bed.

Gadwalls and pochards, Woolston Eyes 

I climbed the rise and had a look from the first viewpoint. I was immediately struck by how many pairs of gadwalls were crowded on the pools. A few pairs of pochards were dotted about, a few more lone drakes dozed on the water. Every raft and island had nesting black-headed gulls on them and their calls were a constant background noise to the visit.

The first Hide I came across was the Sybil Hogg Hide, overlooking a reedy corner where reed buntings sang, mallards and gadwalls lurked and coots fussed about. Way over the other side a female marsh harrier lurched into view from the reeds, floated gently over for less than a minute then disappeared back into them.

This Hide didn't seem to have a name

I walked round and followed the sign pointing to more hides, the first of which was an old shipping container on high scaffolding. The knees had noticed the change in the weather, the ankle was a bit dodgy, did I want to do this? Yes I did, and did. 

No.3 Bed

The climb was a bit scary but worth it, the views across the reserve were superb. Distant dots proved to be black-necked grebes. Great crested grebes and dabchicks were a bit closer in the channels of the reeds. Greylags and Canada geese cruised about in pairs. I had bird's eye views of coots and moorhens but couldn't see the water rails I was hearing. There were yet more gadwalls, easily outnumbering the mallards, tufted ducks, shovelers, shelducks and pochards combined.

The view from the hide

If the climb up to the hide was scary the descent was terrifying, I almos kissed the ground when I reached it. I've an okay head for heights but I'm very windy on ladders. Still, it was worth it for the views.

Black-headed gulls 

The steps up to the Morgan Hide weren't remotely scary. Black-headed gulls dozed and squabbled on their nests, families of Canada geese grazed, there were yet more gadwalls. A buzzard was chased across the reserve by a pair of carrion crows.

Canada goslings 

The black-necked grebes were showing well but keeping their distance, which was frustrating. A bunch of them were closely shadowing a pair of pochards, following them down as they dived. Presumably the pochards' grubbing about for snails and the like disturbs prey for the grebes. About a hundred yards to the right another couple of black-necked grebes were keeping similarly close tabs on a lone drake pochard so it must be an established behaviour.

Black-necked grebes and pochards

The next hide was the Frank Lumley Hide. The leg joints said: "Let's not," and I agreed. Perhaps next time.

The Frank Lumley Hide 

From the Warrington Rotary Hide 

The Warrington Rotary Hide was another shipping container on scaffolding but a lot less intimidating. This corner of the pool meets the light woodland so it has a different feel to it. The birdlife was much the same as in the more open areas though the black-headed gulls were a bit more thinly spread.

Cowslips

I followed the path round the meadows and its singing whitethroats, blackcaps and chiffchaffs. And a patch of hawthorn hosted a singing blackcap, a singing robin and a singing garden warbler and was as confusing as all get out. Luckily I actually saw the garden warbler so it wasn't just an acoustic hallucination.

The bridge across the river

I had wondered if the path linked up to the path leading round the Western edge of No.3 Bed. It didn't, it swung round and took me back to the Sybil Hogg Hide. I crossed back over the river and considered the options. The knees pointed out I'd been walking for four and a half hours and had been climbing up and down long flights of steep steps along the way. I didn't have the legs to go round to the other entrance to the reserve and walk along the Western edge of No.3 Bed in the hopes of hearing or seeing the oriole over on No.4, if it was still there. There'd been no reports of it since early morning. The only real question was whether to head back to Woolston for the 100 back to the Trafford Centre or walk on and cross into Thelwall for the Cat4 to Partington?

Latchford Locks 

I headed for Thelwall. A pair of great crested grebes cruised the canal by Latchford Locks. I had quarter of an hour to wait for the bus, adding a passing swallow to the day's tally. The journey home worked exactly right, a five minute wait for the 247 at Partington which got me to Flixton with five minutes' wait for the train home. It's nice when it works.

As it happens the oriole was found singing on No.4 Bed about the time I was crossing Latchford Locks. It would have been nice but it would have been the cherry on an already rich slice of cake.