New Moss Wood

Moss Road 

I've been feeling very aimless this week, no idea why. There's been a passage of glossy ibises in Northwest England (going where to where?), including one making a cameo appearance on Chat Moss the other day when I was at Pennington Flash. Yellow-browed warblers are starting to be reported. The passage of crossbills is starting to wane. It's another Autumn of madness in the Scillies and the Northern Isles. And I've been twiddling my thumbs. 

Yesterday Martin Mere announced that it's had to close temporarily because of a suspected case of avian influenza which is devastating news. I hope for everyone and everything's sake tests come up with an all clear. I've seen reports of unwell Canada geese at Chorlton Water Park, too. Sad times.

I found myself standing at the station in the drizzle with no idea where I was going or why. Which is not altogether uncommon but it's usually because I've got too many options pinned up on the mental noticeboard. Today I had none. I got off at Irlam because that's the limit of my monthly travel card and I didn't want to be paying train fares to unknown destinations for unknown purposes.

Along the way the clouds had moved on and a light drizzle was falling from a mostly blue sky. I decided to walk through the allotments to New Moss Wood, which is good for an hour's wander about even at times when the birdwatching's a bit quiet. The walk might get some of the aches and pains out of the knees and I might then feel up to strolling up to Little Woolden Moss.

Blackbird
I try to include at least one bird photo in each post of this birdwatching blog. The birds aren't always cooperative.

Robins sang in the gardens by the allotments and blackbirds gorged themselves on haws. This has been a very good year for them, the hawthorn bushes stand out as dark crimson beacons in the landscape. Which was as well here as there were plenty of blackbirds. There weren't any woodpigeon about, nor were there at home, I noticed a fair size flock on the hawthorn trees on Green Hill as the train passed by. I don't know, and probably never will, if our Summer breeding woodpigeons move on and are supplanted by Winter visitors or if they just take a break to fatten up on the hawthorns and acorns of the wet woodlands of the Mersey Valley, and the leftovers on the surrounding stubble fields, then come back for business as usual. 

Arriving at Moss Road I looked down the path by the railway leading to the junction with the old Wigan to Altrincham line. Yet more blackbirds were busy in the hedgerows and more again were bathing in puddles and all were very skittish. More robins sang and chaffinches and great tits appeared to be competing to see which could sound the most like the other.

The sun came out properly for a while as I walked up Moss Road to the wood. A field of yellow and white mustards glowed acid yellow in the light. I think it's a green manure sowing, as I scanned through to look for any birds — I didn't find any — I could see odd patches of purple Phacelia flowers. A late bonus for the bumblebees that were flying about. Goldfinches twittered in the hedgerows as I passed and robins sang in the gardens.

New Moss Wood 

It was a very pleasant hour's wander round the wood, even if it was very damp underfoot with the wet grass cleaning the mud off my boots and making them wetter than the muddy puddles ever did. It was very quiet. A couple of robins and wrens sang but most just struck poses and scuttled away. Blue tits and great tits weren't organised in flocks and passed by without comment. A jay screeched a couple of times in the depths. Goldfinches and chaffinches flew overhead. Squirrels scampered, dunnocks skulked and even the magpies were furtively silent. This time of year there's no particular reason for birds to call attention to themselves but this was going to extremes.

New Moss Wood 

Looking over towards the River Glaze 

At the edge of the wood I looked over the pasture by the Glaze. Black-headed gulls bustled about noisily, as did the carrion crows and a buzzard called loudly in between digging for worms. It was a stark contrast to the woodland I drifted back into.

One of the rides through the wood. This one leads to the car park.

New Moss Wood 

I did a full meandering circuit, emerging back onto Moss Road at the Southern entrance whence I came. I'd added a pheasant to the day's tally. House sparrows and goldfinches fidgeted about in the hedgerows, pigeons flew overhead, robins sang in the gardens and a couple of pied wagtails called from rooftops.

New Moss Wood 

The sky was ominous, the knees were more mobile but definitely achey, I wasn't for walking up to Little Woolden Moss. The rain started as I walked back through the allotments and stopped when my train pulled into Irlam Station. I couldn't grumble, I'd had a pleasant, if quiet, afternoon stroll.