Urmston

Goosanders and little egret, River Mersey

It was a coo what a scorcher bank holiday Saturday and I was feeling misanthropic so I binned any of the ideas for the day that involved public transport or the presence of people. Perhaps I was just tired, I was so 

 exhausted last night that I went to bed early and dozed off soon after the blackbird kicked in for the dawn chorus. So I had a teatime walk over to Cob Kiln Wood and thence into Urmston town centre and got the train for the two minute ride home.

Collared dove, Stretford
The collared dove and the woodpigeons take turns cooing down the chimney to sound bigger and bolder than they really are. Every so often they'll sing a duet and damned confusing it is, too.

Robins and blackbirds sang all the way as I walked past the station and the allotments. Collared doves and woodpigeons sang from rooftops, blackcaps and dunnocks from the hedges by the primary school and wrens from the motorway embankment. It had the makings of a noisy walk.

Walking into Cob Kiln Wood 

Parakeets added to the soundscape as I walked into Cob Kiln Wood. As I crossed the little bridge over Old Eeas Brook a titmouse churred at me as it bathed at the side of the brook. I had to look twice and even then I wasn't convinced until it flew up into the tree by the bridge to give me a good telling off. Whatever else I was expecting to find in the wood today I wasn't expecting a willow tit. I apologised and let it be, I walked on into the wood. As it turned out, the only titmouse I would see along the whole walk not mostly hidden by at least two layers of leaves would be this willow tit.

Cob Kiln Wood 

The wood smelled of elderflowers, the going over of may blossom and oak leaves. The little dragonfly pool was parched and cracked mud, the flag iris flowers hanging limply in the sun. I had missed the cuckoo pint flowers along the path, in fact I couldn't even see any leaves. Blackcaps, blackbirds, robins, chiffchaffs and wrens song, magpies rattled and parakeets screeched.

The electricity pylon clearing 

The electricity pylon clearing was surrounded by song thrushes, well nigh drowning out the songs of anything else. Blackbirds, robins and blackcaps tried their best from the trees, whitethroats from the hawthorn bushes, wrens from brambles and a garden warbler sang from the depths of a stand of dogwoods.

Cob Kiln Lane 

I dropped down into Cob Kiln Lane and walked to the river. Chiffchaffs, robins and blackbirds dominated the songscape along here. The river was low, with large parts of the steps of the weir exposed. I had a look to see if the usual grey wagtail was about and found, instead, a dipper.

Dipper
Not the best picture but given the light and the foliage in the way from any other angle it'll have to do as a record shot.

I walked over the bridge and looked at the river. Upstream there was nothing about. Downstream was a different story. A couple of pairs of mallards dabbled by the banks and down on the shoals at the bend in the river a pair of goosanders dozed in the company of a little egret while their small redheads splashed about by the Cheshire bank.

Looking downstream from the bridge
Back when the Mersey was the county boundary Cheshire was on the left, Lancashire on the right.

I debated walking on down Banky Lane and decided to walk back into Urmston.  Rather than walking the length of Cob Kiln Lane I struck on over the fields towards the bridge over Old Eeas Brook by the cemetery.

Song thrush

Every bush seemed to have a song thrush singing in it. Blackbirds and chiffchaffs sang from the trees on the margins and whitethroats and wrens sang from the brambles and nettles.

River Mersey 

As the path curved round I got a better view of the shoals of the river and noticed a heron lurking in the trees on the Lancashire bank. Sand martins hawked over the river. They used to have a big colony here on the Cheshire side but the bank collapsed about ten years ago. A smaller colony nests downstream these days.

Heron, goosanders and little egret

Walking above the ox-bow lakes 

The path entered the wooded area by the ox-bow lakes and blackcaps picked up the chorus. Chaffinches and dunnocks provided backing vocals and sedge warblers sang from the flag irises in the ox-bows. Jays, normally the most secretive of birds this time of year, made an exhibition of themselves though they took care to land in branches with a good cover of leaves to them. The leaves served the parakeets well, though, the young leaves of the ash trees matching their emerald green plumage. A couple of youngsters would have been inconspicuous if they weren't so noisy.

A pair of great spotted woodpeckers gave me a good telling-off as I walked past the cemetery into Urmston. I checked the time: I'd have ten minutes to wait for the train back home. They run every two hours, if they're not cancelled, it would have been rude not to.