Mersey Valley

Speckled wood, Cob Kiln Wood
I think the fly is one of the Delia species.

It was a baking hot Bank Holiday Monday. I looked at the plans I had for the day and told myself not to be silly. It wasn't until mid-afternoon I set off for a walk, the worst excesses of the midday sun having burned its way through the record books. I decided I'd just have a gentle toddle over Stretford Meadows to see if any lesser whitethroats have turned up yet.

I got as far as the allotments. The wave of relief that swept over me the moment I got into the shade of the trees by the side persuaded me that it was probably not a good idea to go trekking over a mile-wide mound with no cover from the sun. Not today, any road. So I scuttled off back to Cob Kiln Wood to hide in the shadows.

Cob Kiln Wood 

An angry buzzing told me the willow tit was still about. Today's songscape included a great tit and a goldcrest. I decided not to cross the clearing this afternoon, choosing instead to take the path around it's perimeter. The song thrushes were persistent but distant so I could better hear the blackcaps, robins, wrens and chiffchaffs in the trees and bushes. And even see them every so often. Not quite as often as I was assailed by speckled woods. They had a mood on them today and were going after anything larger than a ladybird. I actually found some of the cuckoo pint today, I was at least a week late for the flowers.

Cuckoo pint 

Here and there the path broke out of the woodland into masses patches of cow parsley, hogweed and nettles and I felt less bad about the state of the back garden.

Hogweed (left), cow parsley (right) and path in betw

I wandered over to the river again. I had a bet with myself that there'd be two mallards and a carrion crow. There were three pairs of mallards, a pair of Canada geese and the goosander family downstream on the shoals.

Mallards

By this stage I had a cunning plan: I'd cross over, do a circuit of Banky Lane and Banky Meadow then cross back and walk the length of Cob Kiln Lane into Urmston and thence home. By my reckoning there'd be less than a hundred yards of the walk that wouldn't be in the shade. The plan was fouled somewhat by the combination of the heat and votive offerings to the Dog Shit Fairy. The offerings hanging from wayside twigs had matured fully in the sun. Worse yet, someone had had the bright idea of infusing the deep puddles in the path with yet more of them, like repellent tea bags. The smell was like a physical barrier, I turned on my heel and headed back to the river at a firm trot. I actually prefer the old days when dog shit was something you walked round and was dealt with efficiently by a combination of flies and the weather.

I still wanted a walk so I crossed the river and walked upstream on the bank. I'd barely passed under the Carrington Spur Road when the dipper shot upstream and disappeared under the bend. 

River Mersey 

At last the sunshine brought out the dragonflies. Banded demoiselles are the most common this time of year on the Mersey and there were plenty of them fluttering about by the waterside. Orange tips, large whites and painted ladies fluttered about the banks and sunbathed on the path as best could given the foot traffic 

Chiffchaffs, blackbirds and wrens did most of the singing in the hedgerows above the banks. Across the river a yellowhammer sang for a bit of bread and butter but made no specifications as to cheese. Grey wagtails fussed about the near bank, mallards dozed by the far back and swallows hawked low over the water. And overhead all the while there was a heavy traffic of jackdaws and woodpigeons.

Kickety Brook Local Nature Reserve 

The air in Kickety Brook Nature Reserve was still and oppressively muggy and the perfumes of elderflower and guelder rose hung heavy. A nuthatch kicked off the chorus and was joined by all the usual suspects except the titmice which quietly went about their business with scarcely the rustle of willow leaves. 

Stretford Meadows 

I crossed over the motorway onto Stretford Meadows. I was going to have that walk across the tops after all. Oh no I wasn't! I swiftly beat a retreat to the shade of the Transpennine Route and walked round to Newcroft Road. Whitethroats, dunnocks, song thrushes and wrens sang their taunts from the open country. I stuck to the shady world of blackbirds, robins, chiffchaffs, blackcaps and a garden warbler singing from hedgerows and brambles. I wasn't expecting to see a brown hawker so early in the season and it took me a while to process what I was seeing hawking over a patch of dog roses. A small drift of early purple orchids by the wayside told me I'll have to start having orchid walks over the meadows again.

Early purple orchids 

I was hot and weary and smelly when I got home — there's a reason why the cat used to sleep in the front garden in the hot weather. I still had the energy for another bat-hunting foray at the station later on, surely the weather"s warm enough for them now. Not a sausage, and for once I didn't get into conversation with passersby wondering what on earth I was doing. The usual convoy of lesser black-backs passed overhead on their way to Salford Quays as I walked home. The kestrel shooting across the school playing field was rather a lot more of a surprise.

Mersey Valley

Orange tip, Banky Meadow

My get up and go had got up and gone but it was a not unpleasant morning with the real prospect of becoming a nice afternoon so I didn't want to waste it by spending all day thinking I should go out for a walk. I decided that Cob Kiln Wood and Banky Meadow would be the least busy local places on a sunny Easter school holiday afternoon so I toddled off in that direction.

The robins, blackbirds and goldfinches were in full song on the allotments as I walked by. Woodpigeons, jackdaws and magpies bounced about on the rooftops of Urmston.

Cob Kiln Wood 

Cob Kiln Wood was in full song. Blackbirds, robins, a blackcap, a chiffchaff and a great tit had been accounted for by the time I'd walked the twenty yards to Old Eeas Brook. Blue tits, great tits and a dunnock scuttled around in the bushes while magpies, woodpigeons and parakeets bounced about in the trees. Dunnocks, wrens and a song thrush joined the soundscape once I crossed the bridge. Goldfinches twittered about but didn't lapse into song and long-tailed tits quietly went about their business in the willow trees.

The plan was to walk along the path past the dragonfly pond. I got as far as the pond but no further, the willow tree that usually leans picturesquely over the path was hovering two feet above it. Even if I could have limboed under it it might have been unwise. I retraced my steps and went the long way round by the side of the brook.

Cuckoo pint 

I'd hoped the cuckoo pints would have been in flower by now but I only found the one, unopened, spathe above ground. I hope I don't miss them when they do flower.

Things went quiet for a moment as a male sparrowhawk zipped past then the songscape resumed as if it has never been interrupted. The woodpigeons joined in, as did two willow warblers, one either side of the path.

I walked through to the river and had a nosy to see if anything was about. A couple of drake mallards drifted about and the regular pair of goosanders were cruising just above the shoals. A dipper had been reported a few times earlier in the week but I wasn't finding it today. I did find a pair of mandarin ducks pottering about in the roots of one of the trees hanging off the Cheshire bank. And a buzzard made a cameo appearance before heading into Urmston.

Speckled wood

I walked down into Banky Meadow. It was a lot quieter this side of the river, I was quite a way down Banky Lane before the first chiffchaff started up, they were joined by robins, great tits and blackbirds, then wrens, blue tits and blackcaps. I suspect they don't like competing with the traffic noise on the Carrington Spur Road. The butterflies weren't bothered, speckled woods sunning themselves on brambles and orange tips skittering about the verges taking advantage of the ankle-high drifts of dandelions. It occurred to me that the season for getting lots of photos of butterflies because the birds don't want to play has arrived early this year.

Orange tip

Bluebells 

When I reached Carrington Road I seriously considered crossing over Carrington Moss into Altrincham and getting the bus home from there. The knees suggested otherwise, they're still recovering from my doing a lot of road walking with cushioned insoles in my boots that could have passed for cigarette papers. It had been a good afternoon's walk, there was no point in being silly about it. I got the 5a bus into Partington and got the bus home.

Mersey Valley

Cob Kiln Lane 

I'd had plans yesterday but after a long and busy morning I was too burnt out to do try and catch up with them. There was a bright and sunny start to today but I couldn't be bothered. It being the Big Garden Birdwatch weekend the back garden was bereft of birds and had I the energy I'd have caught up with the chopping back still needing doing. I kept returning to the reports of a great-tailed grackle in Speke. It wouldn't be a lifer but it would be a nice addition to my British list. Even if I was at full energy I'd still think twice before embarking on a Saturday twitch. I made another pot of tea. It wasn't my finest hour.

How much I really needed the exercise became apparent when I finally dragged myself out of the house and headed for Cob Kiln Wood. Crowds of starlings sang in the trees as I walked past the allotments, robins sang in gardens, goldfinches in treetops and woodpigeons on chimney tops. Half a dozen black-headed gulls fussed about the primary school playing field, magpies fossicked about the roadside, pigeons flirted under the motorway bridge. By the time I got to Cob Kiln Wood the joints in my legs were nearly moving freely but I had to give in and take the painkillers.

The bridge over Old Eeas Brook into Cob Kiln Wood 

Cob Kiln Wood 

Cob Kiln Wood was in a quiet mood. A robin and a great tit sang. Woodpigeons, parakeets, magpies and carrion crows clattered about. Half a dozen starlings rummaged about in a field, a couple of chaffinches flew between trees, every so often I'd find a blue tit fidgeting its way through a willow tree. 

The electricity pylons clearing 

Out in the electricity pylons clearing a flock of siskins spent more time flying about the tops of the alder trees than settled in them feeding. I couldn't see that anything was disturbing them, they just seemed to have the fidgets. It could just be that there's not a lot left to plunder in the alder cones and the call to move on to the woodlands where they breed is growing stronger. I had a wander in the birch woodland where a song thrush sang in the treetops and a pair of great tits churred as I passed their dogwood patch.

River Mersey 

I walked down Cob Kiln Lane to the river which was high and fast and bereft of ducks. Even the shoals at the bend of the river downstream of the weir, a favoured loafing place, was well underwater. A lesser black-back drifted by and headed upstream towards Sale Water Park.

Banky Lane 

Crossing over and walking down Banky Lane, Banky Meadow was quieter than Cob Kiln Wood but there were more birds about. Wrens, robins, blackbirds and great tits were stealthy movements in the undergrowth. The woodpigeons and parakeets in the trees were as close to stealthy as they ever manage. A chap walking his dog said to me: "I've just passed a lady with a macaw on her shoulder, if I told folk they wouldn't believe me." I believed him. I wondered if it was Pedro, the scarlet macaw that led its owner a few months' merry dance a few years ago. It wasn't, it was a very good-looking blue and gold macaw sitting on a lady dog-walker's shoulder.

Banky Lane 

It was that time of day when most of the buses on Carrington Road turn up at the same time and it was ten minutes ago. There was a ten minute wait for the 249 to Wythenshawe so I got that, the intention being to renew my monthly travel card at the Interchange there. I'd tried doing it when I was in Stockport the other day but the office was closed due to strike action and there's nowhere I can do it locally. And I couldn't do it at Wythenshawe either, the ticket office closes at four.

So it was a frustrating sort of a day and the birdwatching was very quiet indeed but as I got the tram to Trafford Bar and walked down to White City to do a shop I realised I was walking okay and pain-free so that was a result.

A bit of a wander

Old Eeas Brook,
Cob Kiln Brook

It was a bright, sunny day right up to the point when I put my boots on. Then there was a crack of thunder and a hailstorm. I shrugged my shoulders and put my raincoat on, I needed a walk. By which time it was a bright, sunny day.

I wandered down to Cob Kiln Wood, birds singing all the way. Most were robins but the spadgers, starlings and woodpigeons weren't being shy. 

At the entrance of the wood on Torbay Road the first of the many song thrushes I'd be hearing this afternoon were belting out their songs. Great tits and long-tailed tits bounced about in the undergrowth and a small flock of redwings tutted in the treetops. The going was very muddy so I didn't cross the electricity pylon clearing, getting in's okay but the exit can be a quagmire at the best of times. I passed lots of singing robins and woodpigeons plundering the last of the ivy berries. Blackbirds rummaged in the undergrowth, chaffinches and bullfinches in the treetops and blue tits bounced their way through hawthorn bushes. The robins and song thrushes were punctuated every so often by singing coal tits and goldcrests. It's the last meteorological day of Winter and they were ready for Spring. As I joined Cob Kiln Lane and walked down towards the river the almost-inevitable pair of parakeets screeched through the trees.

Cob Kiln Wood 

The little shape by the mallards upstream on the river was a dabchick. I very rarely see them on the river, it's always a suprise when I do. Unlike the cormorant fishing downstream.

Banky Lane was more than a little damp so I stuck to the National Cycle Route rather than exploring the side lanes down to the river on Banky Meadow. It was fairly quiet save robins and wrens, the woodpigeons, magpies and carrion crows quietly went about their business and a pair of mallards flying by were uncharacteristically silent.

Banky Lane 

I crossed the road into Ashton-on-Mersey and found myself heading for Carrington Moss. I wondered if I'd have the legs for the walk over to Broadheath or if I'd walk up Isherwood Road into Carrington for the bus home. The wooded pathway was noisy with robins, magpies and song thrushes but I could hear skylarks out in the fields.

Heading across the fields to the rugby training ground the fields were busy. A flock of skylarks bounced about in the stubble, every so often one would rise and sing. Carrion crows, pigeons and magpies rummaged about in the grass, the woodpigeons and stock doves kept to themselves over in another field.

Carrington Moss 

Walking past the rugby pitches the path became horrendously muddy. A chap with a quad bike had made sure of this. After a hundred yards I gave up in disgust and turned back. I'd noticed a path heading towards the riding centre so I joined that and wandered down it, passing more skylarks and long-tailed tits along the way. I then joined a rough path following the electricity pylons to Ashton Road. The clearing was busy with robins and dunnocks, the trees either side with titmice and redwings. A passing flock of black-headed gulls skimmed the treetops before heading on to Sale.

Ashton Road 

I joined Ashton Road and headed into Sale, got the 249 into Altrincham and got the 247 home. I hadn't explored much of this side of Carrington Moss before, it made a nice change and it's made me wonder about doing an East-West walk across to the industrial estate next time.

Mersey Valley

River Mersey 

It being a Saturday the local train service was umpty so I shelved the day's plans. I'd had a lazy day yesterday doing a few errands for the cat after train cancellations put the mockers on yesterday's plan so I was torn between giving up and drinking too much tea or getting a shift on and having a walk on a nice Autumn day. So I drifted out and ended up walking over to Cob Kiln Wood. Which in hindsight was probably a better idea than chasing round Lancashire trying to find yellow-browed warblers. They're passing through the country in fair numbers but I suspect that if I see any at all this year it'll be by not looking for them. Which is precisely how I've found every other one I've ever seen.

Cob Kiln Wood, crossing Old Eeas Brook 

It's been a tad wet lately and I wondered about the wisdom of the walk as I walked across the little bridge over a very swollen Old Eeas Brook. As it happens the paths were negotiable though here and there a bit of care was necessary to squelch around some deep patches of mud. I decided not to walk across the pylon clearing today, the exit at the top of the steps was a quagmire even before a week of torrential rain.

Cob Kiln Wood 

The mixed tit flocks quietly went about their business, except when one family of long-tailed tits came over to tut at me before bouncing into the willow scrub to join the blue tits and goldcrests. Robins and wrens sang, bullfinches wheezed, a chaffinch pinked from the top of an ash tree and in the background jackdaws and parakeets called overhead as they headed for early roosts. Each time I walked by a gap in the hedgerows there'd be a confusion of noise as woodpigeons clattered from the trees, there were hundreds of them and all of them very skittish.

Cob Kiln Lane 

River Mersey, looking downstream from the bridge over the weir

The intention was to walk straight down Cob Kiln Lane into Urmston so of course I walked down the other way to have a look at the river. It was in full spate and any salmon we might have had swimming upstream wouldn't have needed to bother using the ladder to swim up the weir.

Banky Lane 

And so I drifted onto Banky Lane where the family of long-tailed tits in the hedgerow by the Carrington Spur Road seemed to be on their own. More robins and wrens sang, a blackbird and a song thrush flew by, dunnocks called in the brambles and woodpigeons clattered about in the trees. I could hear but not see the jackdaws and parakeets in the trees over by the river. I looked at the state of the lane and decided to follow the branch running parallel to the road, the branch looping round through Banky Meadow would have been a sea of mud.

Banky Lane 

I kicked as much mud off my boots as possible as I climbed the steps to the bridge over the road and called it quits. I'd had a pleasant short walk, the woodland birds had been obliging and a bit of sunshine was welcome. I could have done without the mosquito bites though.

Mosses

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss 

'Twas the first dry day after the downpours, though it was still very grey, very wet and very windy. I decided against pushing my luck with much travelling and pottered over to Irlam for a walk over the mosses.

By Astley Road 

Walking up Astley Road the small birds were undercover, even the Zinnia Close house sparrows were nowhere to be seen or heard. The field of turf closest to the houses had been turned into a small pond. Further out a covey of a dozen grey partridges foraged in the field by Roscoe Road. Ironically, had I been on Roscoe Road I wouldn't have been able to see them.

Grey partridges, Irlam Moss

Up to the Jack Russell's gate I'd seen a dozen more partridges than small birds. That changed as I stood by the wayside to let a heavily laden tractor trundle by. It went slowly so I had plenty of time to pick out what was what in the mixed tit flock in the trees. The dozen long-tailed tits made it easy by coming down to within arm's reach to tell me off, the blue tits, great tits and coal tit were a bit more circumspect. A red admiral butterfly was a surprise.

At Prospect Grange a trio of mistle thrushes, two of them juveniles still with that hint of mildew in the plumage, sat on the telegraph wires with a couple of dozen starlings.

Astley Road 

The turf field immediately to the South of the motorway was littered with three dozen pied wagtails and a buzzard, the one immediately to the North had fifty-odd pied wagtails, about a hundred black-headed gulls and a handful each of herring gulls and lesser black-backs. Further down a black line on the turf in the distance was a flock of a couple of dozen lapwings and a similar number of starlings. A male kestrel was hovering over the rough beyond the stables.

Walking past the stables I was shocked when a sheep jumped up at a stall and bleated loudly at me. I wasn't sure if it was on the naughty step or had got in somehow and couldn't work out how to get back out, either way it was in no distress and I wasn't going to interfere any.

I got to Four Lanes End where a pair of kestrels seemed to be hunting in concert. Further out, to the North of Lavender Lane, a cloud of woodpigeons and jackdaws had been put up by a buzzard and the female marsh harrier.

By Lavender Lane 

The walk had been dry for the most part so far. Here I had to negotiate a couple of big puddles where the land drains had overflowed. The water level in these is usually a couple of feet below the field margins.

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss 

Little Woolden Moss was in a giving mood. Robins and wrens called in the trees, goldfinches, linnets and reed buntings flitted about and the usual gang of carrion crows broke off from whatever it was they were up to to give the marsh harrier a hard time. Mallards went to and fro between the pools and the fields beyond and a pair of Canada geese loafed on a bund. A lot of noise heralded the arrival of a flock of pink-footed geese that settled on the barley stubble in the field to the North of the reserve.

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss

Pink-footed geese, Little Woolden Moss

Walking back I was stopped by a couple in a car who were visiting for the first time. I told them where the car park is and that the paths were good to walk on despite the rain. They asked about short-eared owls, I reckoned it was a bit early for them but you never know your luck. I have to admit I'd been keeping half an eye out for them myself on account of the grim weather. Another couple were parked up by Four Lanes End, they were also hoping for shorties. We had a chat and compared dodgy knees (I've nothing to complain about in comparison) and I wished them luck.

Grey wagtail, Chat Moss 

Walking down Twelve Yards Road I was surprised to find five swallows hawking low over the rough pasture. And even more surprised to find a juvenile grey wagtail fossicking about one of the potholes on the road.

Pink-footed geese, Chat Moss 

Fifty-odd pink-footed geese fed on the barley stubble by the road, keeping to the far side of the field. A murder of a couple of dozen carrion crows lurked in a corner with a dozen jackdaws, I couldn't work out why they'd congregated in that particular spot. A couple of young, beardless ravens cronked overhead, chiffchaffs called in the young willows and there were woodpigeons all over the shop.

Barn owl, Chat Moss 

It was delightful to see a barn owl hunting over one of the fields with the osier plantations. It showed well, if distant, then flew over the road and disappeared in some rough pasture.

Twelve Yards Road 

It was a very quiet walk down Cutnook Lane. I bumped into another chiffchaff as I crossed over the motorway then I walked down to the bus stop for the 100 back to the Trafford Centre. It had been an odd afternoon's birdwatching, I'd seen a hell of a lot but it hadn't felt remotely busy. Some days creep up on you like that.

Mersey Valley

Cob Kiln Lane 

Another warm, though very cloudy, day proved to be typically Julyish. To say the small birds of Cob Kiln Wood were keeping a low profile would be to understate. A blackbird sang, a chiffchaff squeaked, there were the furtive chirrups and twitters of house sparrows and goldfinches. A juvenile robin's call to its parents from deep in some hawthorn bushes was answered by a very curt reply from further down the hedgerow. It came as a relief to pass a field of horses and see woodpigeons, magpies and stock doves.

Cob Kiln Wood 

The woodland had been lively with speckled woods so it came as a surprise to find not many butterflies in the pylon clearing. For a while I had to make do with just the one red admiral that was flitting about the brambles. Which was better doing than the birdwatching. Eventually things picked up: a couple of lesser black-backs flew over, as did a few woodpigeons, if I looked hard enough I could just see a few swifts flying very high overhead, and half a dozen gatekeepers fluttered about in the nettles at the far end of the clearing.

Cob Kiln Wood 

Even the pigeons were missing from the bridge over the Mersey. I stood at the middle of the bridge and watched the banded demoiselles fluttering about the banksides for a minute or two before I crossed onto Banky Lane.

Banky Meadow 

A wren added to the afternoon tally by telling me to move along son and a moorhen called briefly from somewhere in the muddy willows. Even the speckled woods were getting few and far between. I'd gone a way down the path before I started hearing a buzzard in the trees. And a bit further before I heard the answering call. Eventually I found the first bird, an indistinct dark shape about halfway up a sycamore tree and keeping well into leaf cover. I was having as much luck with buzzards as owls this week. I've pretty much given up on the Merlin app again but I thought I'd try and restore my faith in it by having it confirm that the big noisy shape in the trees loudly calling to its parents was a buzzard. Merlin offered no suggestions although I thought of one or two. Good job we have enough buzzards round here to get to know what they sound like.

Banky Meadow 

I completed the circuit and headed off to Ashton on Mersey for the bus having added the ring-necked parakeet chunnering to itself high in an oak tree to the tally and having been closely eyeballed by a common darter in the car park. It's sort of nice to have things get back to normal for a bit.