New Moss Wood

New Moss Wood 

It was another cool day with the sun trying it's best to make up for a strong Northwest breeze..I was struggling to be bothered with much today so I dragged myself out to New Moss Wood for a bit of exercise. 

The clouds rolled in as I got the train to Irlam then walked past the allotments where robins sang claim to their Winter territories and large whites and speckled woods fluttered about the hedgerow. After yesterday's experience I took my time and kept an eye and ear cocked for anything unusual, just in case. A couple of long-tailed tits flew down into the brambles by my head to see what I was about.

More robins sang along the trackside path on the other side of Moss Road. Blue tits flitted through the trees and one of the hawthorn bushes was busy with blackbirds. Why only that one I don't know.

By Moss Road 

A handful of swallows hawked high over the fields North of the railway. A bird scarer did its job and over a hundred woodpigeons flew out of the line of Lombardy poplars by the farmsteads.

New Moss Wood 

The difference a bit of rain makes! New Moss Wood was lush and green. Robins sang, wrens scolded, goldfinches twittered in the treetops. A migrant hawker patrolled the crossing of two of the rides. 

I took a different route round to my usual one and was rewarded with a large mixed tit flock flying across the ride. The birds flew over in ones and twos, fidgeting in the willows to my right before dashing over into those on my left. The blue tits were silent, some of the great tits called before flying over, the long-tailed tits tutted to keep in contact with the group. Juvenile chiffchaffs chased each other round the houses before flitting across, juvenile willow warblers kept to themselves. The ochreous tones of the juvenile chiffchaffs and the lemon yellow tones of the juvenile willow warblers made it easy to distinguish between the two. I struggled with the less colourful birds with could have been one, the other, both, or, indeed, neither. Who knows what I might have been missing in those mad sashes between canopies.

A brown hawker zipped down the ride, did a quick circuit of me and went on its way. The sun reappeared and took the chill off the air but not enough to persuade any butterflies into activity. I had to wait for two cock pheasants to finish their fight before I could get back into Moss Road.

Pheasants

Scout Moor from Moss Road

The walk back to the station was quieter, the robins taking a break. Lesser black-backs flew North, presumably to the roost on Pennington Flash. A jay screeched in the trackside trees by the allotments and the long-tailed tits came and had another look at me as I walked by.

A couple of great tits called from the trees as I wanted for the train. When I got back to Humphrey Park the magpies and parakeets were having another barney.