Elton Reservoir

Black-headed gull
A first-Winter bird

It had the promise of being a fine day and four kittiwakes had been reported at Elton Reservoir, which was long overdue a return visit, so I headed over to try my luck. I wouldn't be terribly surprised, though disappointed, if they'd moved on, they don't linger if the weather's fine. Still, you never know.

I got off the 471 bus and walked down to the sailing club car park. Half a dozen ring-necked parakeets were hogging the feeders, much to the disgust of the assembled greenfinches, goldfinches, chaffinches, house sparrows and great tits waiting their turn. The trees were full of the songs of blackbirds, chiffchaffs, wrens and robins. The calls of black-headed gulls came loudly from the reservoir.

Elton Reservoir 

I had a quick look over the reservoir from the bridge over the brook. The usual mute swans, Canada geese and mallards loafed at the waterside. On the grass half a dozen of last year's cygnets were being given their marching orders, literally, by an irate cob that might well have been a parent. On the water black-headed gulls squabbled with each other, herring gulls and lesser black-backs loafed and bathed, and coots chugged about purposefully though it wasn't evident what that purpose was. My first sand martins of the year swooped over the reservoir and dodged around passing black-headed gulls.

I reckoned my best bet for checking out the gulls was to walk along the South bank of the reservoir. I'd be looking into the sun as I walked along but looking over the reservoir to my side and behind I'd be getting a good light for picking out any gulls looking a bit different. It also had the advantage that the view wouldn't be impeded by trees and it wouldn't be so muddy underfoot.

Great crested grebes, male at front

Whichever side you were walking, everything away from the sailing club was a bit distant. Except the skittish pied wagtail skittering along the wall and the very flighty grey wagtail on the reservoir margin. Down the bank away from the reservoir greenfinches and reed buntings sang from the hedgerows. A flock of half a dozen oystercatchers flew in to feed in one of the fields.

Tufted ducks 

I wasn't seeing any kittiwakes. There were scores of black-headed gulls coming and going. Herring gulls chased each other about. Lesser black-backs struck poses on buoys. But nothing that made me look twice and wonder what it might be. Even a distant quartet of goldeneyes stood out from the lines of tufted ducks punctuating the reservoir.

Looking back towards the sailing club

The outflow from the reservoir to the Bolton and Bury Canal 

I passed the farm and walked to the end of the reservoir. A few pairs of teal drifted about with the coots, mallards and tufties and a couple of pairs of Canada geese muttered ominously as they cruised about. A pair of lapwings drifted over before heading back into their field.

The path to Withins Reservoir 

The path to Withins Reservoir was wetter than the reservoir.

Withins Reservoir 

I returned to Elton Reservoir and walked along the Northern margin, primarily in the hopes of picking up some warblers other than chiffchaffs in the hedgerows and the trees by the creek. Robins, chiffchaffs and chaffinches sang in the trees along the bank and in the hedgerows. I was getting better views of the goldeneyes and of a pair of great crested grebes cruising towards the creek. And I was walking armpit deep in mud. I don't know why I only ever ask myself whether this would be a good idea after I've trudged and slipped through a hundred yards of this muck. Possibly because at the start I'd just shrug and ask what would be the worst that could happen. And yes, I know the worst that could happen: I'm of that generation that was trained from an early age to beware of quicksand when on country walks. The going was truly atrocious. I was mildly chastising my judgement as I struggled to walk up a slope of deep, clinging mud when I heard my first willow warbler of the year.

Goldeneyes 

I reached terra firma at the top of the creek, beat off as much mud off my boots as I could on the concrete path and used a patch of brambles to scrape the mud off my trousers bottoms. That was me pretty much done. I walked through the housing estate to the main road, got the bus into Bury and thence home. I hadn't seen any kittiwakes but I got a walk in and nudged the year list along a bit.

Elton Reservoir