Wellacre Wood

Sunset from Wellacre Wood 

After two days of My Word! It's Warm! and two more days in prospect I was getting itchy feet. I had considered going out on a jaunt in an air-conditioned train but the warm weather was affecting services and I decided not to risk it. A trip out for a couple of errands persuaded me that staying at home saying: "Coo! What a scorcher!" was probably sensible advice. In the end I took a chance on a twilight walk round Wellacre Wood and was glad of more than just the exercise.

Wellacre Wood 

I got off the 256 and walked past the school into the wood. After the heat of the day the cool shade was refreshing. Song thrushes, blackbirds and woodpigeons were in full song, a couple of goldfinches twittered in the big hawthorn bush and robins sneaked about the pathside like mice. It's that time of year. The robins at home would be being more furtive than dunnocks had a stray male not tried to set up office in next door's garage yesterday. The parakeets and carrion crows went to roost, each one raucously announcing its arrival.

Wellacre Wood 

In the depths of the wood blue tits and great tits muttered at my passing by while blackcaps and wrens broke into song. I have to acknowledge that there are some walks i can do, even at my age, that are too risky for women to do unaccompanied by friends or large dogs and this walk at this time is probably one of them. Which is a damned shame.

The setting sun poked a hole through the trees and created this lighting effect.

I entertained the thought of walking round to Jack Lane, the song thrushes and blackbirds there were making themselves heard plainly. Unfortunately I had an eye on the bus timetable, I wanted to be sure of getting the five past ten bus home and I couldn't see my managing to catch it without having to march through the nature reserve in double time not looking at anything. Instead I walked down to Dutton's Pond.

Dutton's Pond 

A few anglers were sat quietly around the pond. As were a few mallards and a couple of families of coots, the near full-grown youngsters loafing aloof from their parents. A moorhen fidgeted about on the bankside.

As I walked away from the pond I heard a bird calling. At first I thought the moorhen was going off on one but as the bird got nearer it became clear it was something else. I stood still and listened to it, knowing what I was hearing but persuading myself I was wrong. All doubts were cast aside when the tawny owl glided into the tree in front of me, gave me a long stare then glided sideways into the trees on the other side of the path. Even with my usual owl blindness there was no missing that and very grateful I was, too.

Twilight 

I wandered back through the wood to the bus stop. The song thrushes, blackbirds and woodpigeons were having one last encore for the night and the jackdaws were flying in to their roost on Irlam Road. I had three minutes' wait for the bus. It had been a bit of a hit-and-run visit but I'd had a nice walk and it isn't often you get a close encounter with an owl that doesn't end in tears.