Black-tailed godwits, Leighton Moss

Wednesday, 25 June 2025

Local patch

Barton Clough 

I found it incredibly difficult to get going today so I contented myself with a walk around the local patch and didn't bother moving on anywhere else. The heavy, headachy weather didn't help any but it seemed to provoke a lot of birdsong so I won't complain too much about it.

Barton Clough 

Seeing most of the small birds was very hard indeed and nearly always they'd be passing silhouettes or tail feathers disappearing into foliage. The exceptions were the whitethroats singing from the tops of hawthorns and the flock of goldfinches giddying about in the cherry trees by the old freight line. It was nice to see so many goldfinches and unusual seeing so many together before the thistledown season.

Juvenile goldfinch 

The large gulls have abandoned the factory unit rooftops. I get the impression the rooves were being used for liaisons while the serious breeding activity was going on atop the big units on the other side of the canal.

  • Black-headed gull 1 overhead 
  • Blackbird 6, 3 singing
  • Blackcap 2 singing
  • Blue tit 2
  • Carrion crow 1
  • Chaffinch 1 singing
  • Chiffchaff 3, 2 singing 
  • Dunnock 1
  • Feral pigeon 1
  • Goldfinch 29, 9 juveniles
  • Great tit 3, 1 singing
  • Greenfinch 4
  • House sparrow 1
  • Lesser black-back 2 overhead
  • Magpie 3
  • Pied wagtail 1
  • Robin 2
  • Song thrush 1 singing
  • Whitethroat 2 singing
  • Woodpigeon 5, 1 singing
  • Wren 2, 1 singing

Putting out the wheelie bin tonight I accidentally kicked one of the hedgehogs, it had rolled itself into a ball on one side of the path. I felt dead guilty but at least I hadn't run over the poor beast with the bin. I left it some cat food by way of an apology (I'm not robbing the cat any, she's being very picky lately and more than once I've had to remind her that it wasn't so long ago she was dining on spiders and bits of old mouse). Both hedgehog and cat food had gone when I checked later.

Hedgehog 

Tuesday, 24 June 2025

Etherow Country Park

Mandarin duckling

There's an embarrassment of soft fruit in the back garden at the moment. I've managed to have some of the boysenberries and raspberries (no idea where the raspberries came from) and I've picked some of the blackcurrants and goosegogs. It would have been nice to have seen any of the cherries. This morning a juvenile blackcap was helping itself to the boysenberries by the living room window, disappearing into cover whenever a camera was produced.

It poured down all morning. Late lunchtime it abated, leaving behind a sweaty and cloudy sort of a day like a badly ventilated launderette. I decided to go and take photos of mandarin ducks in eclipse plumage, a challenge as they're considerably shyer in moult and as likely to be up trees as on riverbanks.

I got off the 383 at Compstall and walked up to the car park. Amorous pigeons canoodled behind car wheels, Canada geese and mallards mugged for scraps, black-headed gulls squabbled and a coot picked a fight with the mute swan because it had drifted too close to its youngster.

Canada gosling

Some of the Canada goslings were in that transition where the true feathers were replacing the down.

Canada gosling

Canada geese 

I walked up the canal. Chiffchaffs and goldfinches sang, flocks of pigeons haunted anyone who sat down and Canada geese crowded the islands and banks. I had a fleeting glimpse of an eclipse drake mandarin as it steamed down the canal into cover.

River Etherow

The paths have been reopened and, I must admit, there is an improvement. The river is easier to see now the trees have been thinned and opened and the paths are much better. The canalside flora has responded to the extra sunlight, a medley of umbellifers, campions and buttercups with an understory of betonies and vetches. A few large whites fluttered about amidst the bumblebees.

Walking between the canal (left) and the river

Mallards 

The opening up of the view to the river didn't coincide with my seeing any grey wagtails or dippers. No matter, it was still a good walk. The weather had got to the mallards, they were all asleep and I couldn't blame them.

Approaching the weir

I got to the mill pond. The scary bouncy wooden bridge over the overflow was still the scary wooden bridge over the overflow, there are some eternal verities. A crowd of mandarin ducks steamed out of the trees and headed my way.

Drake mandarin in eclipse plumage

Drake mandarin

Mandarin duck 

Drake mandarin
The reduced amount of red on his bill suggests he's a First-Summer bird.

Mandarin duck 

We'll forget that bit about them being shy and difficult to find this time of year.

A mallard and her two near full-grown ducklings slept under the bridge by the weir. Downstream a male grey wagtail fossicked about the rocks in the rapids. Meadow browns and ringlets joined the large whites fluttering about the roadside.

Keg Wood 

It was energy-sapping weather and I didn't feel like the walk round Keg Wood. I felt I shouldn't just ignore it so I compromised by going a hundred yards in and standing still to see what I could hear and what would be passing by. Robins and wrens tutted as I passed. Chiffchaffs, blackbirds and a robin sang. A family of great tits passed by. Goldfinches, a chaffinch and blackcaps broke into song. I'd been hearing but not seeing blue tits, they broke out of cover and bounced through the hawthorns by the lane.

I turned and walked back whence I came. I had another look at the weir and the river in the hopes of seeing a dipper and couldn't find the wagtail either. It's been an age since I last saw dippers here. I walked back, crossed the scary bouncy bridge and had one last look back. Damn me, there was a dipper. It was an adult bird, distant and very fidgety and spending most of its time underwater but there it was. Which was nice.

Sleeping mallard

I walked further down. Rather than crossing the bridge and walking back down the road I carried on down the causeway which was littered with sleeping ducks. Most of which were mandarins.

Mandarins

Drake mandarin

Mandarin duckling 

Mandarin

The stream of colloquial Anglo-Saxon was a teenage angler discovering a mandarin duck stealing his ground bait. They're shy like that.

The lily pond by the start of the causeway

Monday, 23 June 2025

Marshside

Common sandpiper and tufted ducklings

It was cooler, cloudier and altogether better for walking weather so I headed over to Marshside. I didn't do so enthusiastically, the effects of last week's heat and humidity are taking some shaking off. Rather than faff around with connections in Manchester —  especially on a Monday! — I got the train to Liverpool and got the Southport train from there. 

The birdwatching from the train was pretty thin, I was even struggling to find woodpigeons and corvids along the way. The unseasonably brisk winds kept nearly all the smaller birds quiet and under cover. Even when I changed trains at Liverpool South Parkway where I can usually bump into robins, wrens and titmice on the embankments beside the platforms I wasn't seeing or hearing anything. (In fact, I didn't hear or see a robin all day.)

North of Liverpool we started to see plenty of herring gulls and lesser black-backs round the docks and warehouses. Teenage gangs of magpies bounced and strutted about the trackside of Bootle. The Sefton coast gave up a thin peppering of woodpigeons and jackdaws.

The strong wind had cleared most of the cloud when I got the 44 to Marshside and got off at Marshside Road. Starlings and house sparrows were busily to-ing and fro-ing between gardens, the school field and the marsh, pigeons flew about the chimney tops and house martins flew about the pigeons.

This time of year it's the Canada geese hiding in the tall grass.

The marshes were, for the most part, dry grasslands peppered with starlings and woodpigeons. Small herds of Canada geese, mostly a dozen or so birds each, grazed over Sutton's Marsh to my right. House martins skimmed the grass tops, goldfinches and linnets kept low as they flew across the road between marshes,  the skylarks sang at about rooftop height before settling quickly back down into cover.

Marshside Road 

Junction Pool 

Junction Pool was relatively quiet, just a couple of dozing teal, a shelduck and a handful of mallards with a dozen or so black-tailed godwits twittering together on an island.

From Nel's Hide 

I walked down to Nel's Hide, flocks of starlings rising and falling over the bund, the singing skylarks, reed buntings and meadow pipits struggling to be heard over the wind and the pipits struggling to keep to a clean course in their parachute song. House martins, swallows and a swift hawked low over the marsh. As I had a nosy from the Halfway Viewpoint a flock of lapwings, mostly juveniles, flew over to the marsh by the hide, which looked overwise deserted. An oystercatcher flew by but didn't settle.

Lapwings

Lapwings and redshanks

It was getting on for low tide so there weren't many waders about other than the lapwings. The adults were moulting and most had lost the longer feathers on their crests, making them similar in profile to the smudgy-faced youngsters. Three redshanks were sporadically noisy, fidgeting between the banks of the pool in front of the hide but not actually doing anything bar getting in the way of lapwings and starlings trying to have a bath. A herd of Canada geese grazing in the long grass had a variety of youngsters ranging from half-sized fluffy goslings to near enough full size adult looky-likeys. 

Spoonbill and lesser black-back

A handful of black-headed gulls floated by with a lot of attendant noise but the only large gull was a bathing lesser black-back. A chap who had joined me in the hide was busily opening all the windows when he said: "Spoonbill coming in!" And so it did, an adult spoonbill which joined the gull and got busy feeding.

Spoonbill and lesser black-back

It's nice to see a spoonbill being active. For years all my sightings of them had been of sleeping birds looking like a mattress on stilts. As it fed the lesser black-back was joined by a herring gull and a few minutes later by another lesser black-back. 

Spoonbill

After about ten minutes then spoonbill was off stage left. There was nothing much else doing so I bid the other chap good luck and walked back towards Marshside Road.

A scan over Sutton's Marsh from the seat at the road junction found me a group of moulting mallards on a pool and herons and little egrets skulking by creeks and drains. A wren came to object to my presence, I was surprised not to see or hear any whitethroats or stonechats.

Spoonbill

As I walked down to Sandgrounders I noticed the spoonbill had settled on the big pool here to feed behind an island covered in tufted ducks. It very obligingly flew over to feed on the near side of the island.

Tufted ducks 

Tufted ducks and spoonbill 

Tufted ducks and spoonbill 

Spoonbill 

Spoonbill 

A couple of cormorants and a great black-back dozed on another of the islands. A couple of black-headed gulls looked like they were still on nests in the long grass.

Tufted duck and ducklings 

Tufted ducks and their ducklings swam about on the pool in front of Sandgrounders. It looked like all the avocets had moved on, dozens of black-tailed godwits had moved in, including a few very grey juveniles. Most of the black-headed gulls had moved on, too. The remaining young gulls were at the flying stage and most of them were loafing with the adults on the bund.

Canada geese, black-tailed godwits and black-headed gulls 

Canada geese and black-tailed godwits 

Juvenile black-headed gull 

Black-tailed godwit 

Hen moorhen
For a couple of weeks when the youngsters are very young you can identify female moorhens by the red garters at the top of their thighs. These seem to be to help the youngsters find her while they are in cover.

Tufted ducks and ducklings

A couple of tufted ducklings seemed reluctant to leave the island in front of the hide despite their mother's calling for them. In the end she had to come and get them, a common sandpiper walking round to join them for a minute or two before pottering off round the back of the island.

There were a lot of black-tailed godwits feeding in the water at the back by the mouth of the creek. I scanned them in the hopes of finding some more waders. I found a couple of redshanks in the crowd then noticed something skittering about on the bank behind which turned out to be a juvenile pied wagtail. This, in turn, made me notice a wader that was too small to be a redshank and too big to be a dunlin. It eventually raised its head above the water so I could see its long, curved beak and obligingly walked in front of a couple of godwits so I could confirm it had black legs. Which is how curlew sandpiper got added to the year list.

Bee orchid

I mentioned to one of the ladies in the hide that I thought I'd missed out on bee orchids this year. "There's a couple flowering by the path still," she said and told me where they were. I'd been looking where they flowered last year, these were where they'd been flowering the year before and had been disturbed when the bank had needed a bit of repair. I could be forgiven for missing the larger spike of flowers as it was poking its way through a dewberry, I had no such excuse for missing the smaller one.

Bindweed
A lovely flower in the wild.

As I walked round for the bus a sedge warbler burst into song in a drain and a whitethroat churred at me before escorting its youngsters into deep cover.

I had ten minutes to wait for the train and the ride was uneventful until we got to Wigan and stayed at Wigan. Eventually we were told that we'd be going to Victoria instead of Oxford Road because of a fire (the Hotspur Press building by the station was burnt down and is now a prime city centre development site). A while later we were told the train wasn't going anywhere. I just had time to run round the corner and get the 132 to the Trafford Centre and thence home. It's been an eventful month on the rails.

Saturday, 21 June 2025

Home thoughts

Juvenile dunnock

It had been a very warm and heavy night. The blackbird and the robin were singing at four, joined not long after by one of the woodpigeons. The first of the lesser black-backs flew over from their roost about the same time. I finally fell asleep some time after twenty to five and was woken up at five on the dot by a cat demanding breakfast. This was not met with congenial warmth and I made her wait a while for it. At eight I let her out for her iron cat physical exercise regimen which these days in her dotage consists of sleeping in flowerpots and sitting on the dustbin. I sat down and slept through past noon which put the mockers on the day's plans. Just as well, really, the weather was energy-sapping and I would have struggled. A quick nip round to my dad's to sort something out for him felt like a route march through hill country.

The wren had started singing just before eight. I didn't hear it all afternoon, which isn't unusual this time of year. I did hear the spadgers rummaging about in the roses and the parakeet which I fear is starting to become a fixture though it doesn't yet come to the feeders. The goldfinches and great tits slip in quietly and it's more luck than judgement has me spotting them. A juvenile robin struck defiant poses on the arching stems of the rambling rose.

By the evening I was getting stir crazy (me choosing not to go out and my not being able to go out are two different kettles). It was a lot cooler and a nice breeze had picked up so I went for a walk in the dusk and had a quick nosy in the park along the way. I left the bins and camera at home but took the bat detector, just in case. Somebody put a lot of effort into putting bat boxes up in the trees the Winter before last, I wondered if any were in use, and if so whether I could find any of the occupants. (It's still difficult writing things like "I took the bat detector" without hearing Adam West say it in my head.)

Lostock Park 

A robin was singing behind the school sports hall as I walked down the road. Another robin was singing in the bushes by the entrance to the park. I'm still a learner with the detector, I suspect I need to learn a lot more patience with the twiddling of the dials, I'm not trying to find Radio Luxembourg. Rather despite myself I caught the sound of a bat patrolling the bushes around the bowling green. And even more despite myself I managed to identify it as a soprano pipistrelle, the rapid-fire clicking being picked up around the 55MHz mark. I've downloaded the list of frequencies (pdf file) to my 'phone so I'm not messing about again next time because I've left my notebook at home.

For all it was just a walk round the block it felt good to get a bit of fresh air. Tomorrow's promising to be a bit more bearable though with a risk of thundery showers, we'll see how it goes.