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Stock doves, Pennington Flash 

It was a mild and cloudy morning. After a couple of day's actively resting and cosseting the Achilles tendon that's giving me the hump I decided I'd have a couple of short walks with a fair break between them.

The first target was Elton Reservoir, which I've neglected a bit. A pair of common scoters had been reported there over the weekend, providing a useful excuse for a visit.

The bird feeders in the car park were busy, mostly with greenfinches and great tits, a few goldfinches, blue tits and a coal tit getting in when they could.

Elton Reservoir 

Canada geese crowded the bay by the sailing club. A few mallards dabbled about the edges and a pied wagtail flitted about the jetty. Further out a raft of a couple of dozen coots bobbed about and half a dozen black-headed gulls squabbled. A few swallows hawked low over the water and there were were more of them out over midwater.

I walked along the bank. Whitethroats sang from hawthorn bushes, chiffchaffs skulked about in the willows and wrens sang from the depths of scrub. I reached open ground and could see lesser black-backs bathing midwater and more rafts of coots and lines of Canada geese cruised about. A small flock of sand martins joined the swallows over the water, small dark shapes zipping across my eyeline as I searched for the scoters.

Canada geese 

At last I found them, two dark shapes on the water, bigger and darker than the tufted ducks beyond, bigger and duckier than the coots. They were too far out to get much detail and I quickly lost them as they dived and I couldn't pick up where they re-emerged.

Walking by the creek

I walked up the creek, whitethroats, chiffchaffs and dunnocks singing and a willow warbler fossicking about in the Himalayan Balsam..

Speckled wood

There were lots of large whites, red admirals and speckled woods about. A few common blue damselflies zipped about the long grass. I had to check the impulse to chase after the brown hawker patrolling the reeds, neither I nor the camera have good enough reaction times to get a photo of one in flight. Walking down the other side of the creek I could see a mute swan dozing amongst the mallards and coots.

Half a dozen house martins hawked over the little bay by the creek, keeping well away from the swallows and sand martins over the way. By this time I'd convinced myself that I'd seen a couple of tufted ducks and all else was wishful thinking so it was nice to emerge from the trees and find the scoters quite a bit closer to hand than they had been.

Common scoters

It was a duck and a drake, which doesn't necessarily mean they were a pair. The yellow on the drake's bill was very dull, I think this is as close to an eclipse plumage common scoters get.

Common scoters

Common scoters 

Common scoters

I decided not to walk through into Radcliffe. Instead I went back to the creek and walked up the lane to Bolton Road for the 471.

My second target was Pennington Flash, to have a potter about and see if the lesser scaup was about. It's a bit of a haul from Elton Reservoir to Pennington Flash but very straightforward: 471 to Bolton, 582 to Leigh and 610 to Pennington Flash and all the buses running every quarter of an hour when they're behaving themselves. Which today they did.

Walking into Pennington Flash from St Helens Road 

It was dead quiet walking down the lane from St Helens Road. There wasn't even anything on — or in — the brook.

Stock dove
I was surprised to find it amongst the mallards.

It was a very different game in the car park where the Canada geese and black-headed gulls were scoffing bread faster than the tiny tots could throw it. A few mallards dozed on the shore or chased each other round the trees for no apparent reason. I had a look to see if the Egyptian geese were about and had no joy. Offshore a raft of coots drifted with the wind and a handful of tufted ducks bobbed up and down. Way out in the middle of the flash a handful of lesser black-backs were having a bath.

From the Horrocks Hide 

Lapwing chick

The spit at the Horrocks Hide was a solid, weed-covered mass of land. The tops of the heads of the herring gulls, cormorants and mute swans at the end of the spit could be seen in the distance over the rise. A herd of mute swans cruised leisurely offshore, herring gulls, tufted ducks and great crested grebes littered the strait. A couple of grebes were sitting on nests and their partners were bringing along fresh materials to shore them up. The black-headed gulls still had possession of the rafts but looked to have finished nesting, there were a lot of flight-worthy youngsters about. Common terns could be heard but took some finding until they flew out into the flash. All the time I was taking this in a lapwing was shepherding a couple of youngsters round a muddy patch in front of the hide.

Mute swans and Canada geese 

After the eerie entrance it came as a relief to hear singing chiffchaffs and blackcaps in the trees. A few brown phantoms turned out to be robins taking to cover.

It was quiet again at the Tom Edmondson Hide. A mallard made sure its three-quarters sized ducklings kept well away from the ghostly pale heron fishing on the pool. A reed warbler sang from the reeds by the path.

Heron

The wind had gotten up by the time I got to Ramsdales so all the viewings was through a screen of waving reeds. A mallard had small ducklings, the juvenile lapwings were full grown and a dabchick was hinneying from heaven knows where.

Stock dove

The feeders on the Bunting Hide were very busy with stock doves and great tits. And more stock doves. And a few magpies and blue tits. But mostly stock doves. Which was nice as it gave me a chance to have a good look at them without them suddenly scooting off, which is generally the way when they're feeding in fields. One of the birds looked duller and greyer than the others but I couldn't be sure if it was a juvenile or a moulting adult. I suspect the latter, the few times I'm sure I've seen juvenile stock doves they've looked underfed and all these birds were (very understandably) on the plump side.

A very young juvenile bullfinch

Also nice to see was a very young bullfinch looking like some exotic escape as it had yet to get its black cap and bib. This is a plumage usually missing from the bird guides. A young robin turned up, too, starting to show the first of its red feathers.

Moorhen 

A moorhen flummoxed the stock doves. They were adapt at barging magpies off the bird tables by flying in at them and bumping into them amidships but they didn't seem to have a strategy for shifting moorhens.

Juvenile robin

I walked back to St Helens Road. "You've just missed a kingfisher!" said a man standing by the brook. I congratulated him. It would have been nice to have seen it but I'm happy they're about.

A walk along the Irwell

Goosanders, Kersal Wetlands 

I played bus station bingo, the 52 opened its doors first so I had a wander around Kersal Wetlands. This time it was literally around the wetlands: I walked along the riverside path.

River Irwell, Kersal Wetlands 

I got off the bus at Castle Irwell and walked along the river. A chiffchaff sang by the bus stop and goldfinches twittered in the trees. I'd hoped to see sand martins by the bridge but was disappointed. Pairs of mallards dabbled by the banks and a few second calendar year black-headed gulls flew about and mooched by the riverside.

Female goosander

The Irwell can be a very pretty river if you choose your viewpoint carefully and don't look too closely. The litter of the Winter flooding and the litter of everyday litter adorned the river banks. I started seeing pairs of goosanders drifting about the river and, very occasionally, diving for food. I find it incredibly difficult to get decent photos of goosanders, they tend to be against backgrounds that have them bleach out, so I took quite a lot of photos against a range of backgrounds with my fingers crossed for success. Approaching the shoals and small beach at the sharp bend of the river I scanned round for dippers or grey wagtails expecting to see neither and was surprised when a grey wagtail flew onto a branch.

Grey wagtail 

Drake goosander 

Drake goosander 

Drake goosander 

Drake goosander 

A couple of blackcaps and willow warblers joined the blackbirds, robins and wrens singing in the trees. As did a couple of carrion crows. A couple of pairs of ring-necked parakeets screeched as they flew about the treetops. A couple of sand martins swooped in. Then a couple more. Then all of a sudden I was surrounded by a couple of dozen of them. God knows, there were plenty enough midges to keep them going. I spent a few minutes doing that heartbreaking thing where you take photos of empty air, gave up and walked on.

Sand martin

Carrion crow singing in a cherry tree

Starlings 

I had to pick my way through a gang of starlings to get onto the path to the Grandstand Avenue exit. There were more goosanders and a few adult black-headed gulls on the river here and a lesser black-back posed for the camera.

Lesser black-back

Black-headed gull 

I got the 95 bus and moved on to Drinkwater Park where coal tits, chiffchaffs and robins sang in the trees. Woodpigeons and magpies clattered and rattled in the treetops while a jay paid no attention and dozed in a pathside tree.

Drinkwater Park 

I had a walk through the woods then took the path to the river, thinking I might have the legs to walk up to Clifton for the bus home. A few mallards and Canada geese drifted about and a tufted duck dozed with the mallards on one of the emerged rock shelves. As the country opened up a bit a couple of willow warblers joined the songscape and a buzzard floated over before disappearing into the trees.

I realised I didn't have the legs to walk down to Clifton Country Park, cross the river at the water treatment works and cross round into Clifton for the bus. The more sensible option was to cross over and walk down the river via Forest Bank Park and go for a bus back in Agecroft. On this side of the river the singing chiffchaffs were joined by blackcaps.

Adelphi Bridge 

I'd had a good walk and felt no need to tell myself off for not getting over to Clifton. On the plus side the bus stop for the 66 is across the road where the path emerges onto Adelphi Bridge. On the minus side the traffic over the bridge was horrendous. I was just concluding it might be quicker to get the bus into Bury and come back again when a kind driver let me cross. And just in time for the bus, too. 

River Irwell, Kersal Wetlands 

Elton Reservoir

Tufted ducks

It was a surprisingly sunny morning so I set off for Elton Reservoir to see if the first-Winter scaup that was there all last week had decided to linger awhile.

Car park feeding station 

I got off the 471 just after the petrol station and walked down to Nigel's Lane and thence to the car park by the sailing club. The hedgerows were fizzing with robins, blue tits and goldfinches. As were the feeders in the tree by the car park. They were joined by great tits, greenfinches and long-tailed tits. There was a notable absence of chaffinches, perhaps they were put off by the wind which every so often would shake all the goldfinches off the feeders. A buzzard passed overhead and was chi-acked by magpies.

Elton Sailing Club 

I had a squint at the reservoir, very much in the manner of Jack Palance staring into the sun. The reservoir was very full. A lone mute swan sat in the corner, there were no Canada geese and just half a dozen mallards drifting by the bank. Out on the water the silhouettes of dozens of coots and black-headed gulls bobbed about on the choppy water.

I looked at the state of the path and concluded that I wouldn't be having much fun negotiating the muddier stretches while trying to pick out the runners and riders amongst wobbly silhouettes. I walked round past the sailing club to have a look over the Reservoir from the South bank. As I passed the farmhouse a kestrel flew over and hovered over the garden at head height before quickly drifting down the hedgerow and over the fields.

Elton Reservoir 

As I climbed onto the South bank the issue of sun in my eyes became suddenly theoretical as the wind blew a bank of thick, dark clouds our way. I disturbed a grey wagtail as I started walking on the puddle-strewn path and it disappeared into the grass down the bank.

Great crested grebe 

The change of light greatly worked in my favour. I could now pick out the small raft of tufted ducks amongst the coots by the mouth of the creek and the common gulls amongst the black-headed gulls. There weren't many large gulls about and they were 2:1 herring gulls to lesser black-backs. A couple of great crested grebes drifted about, half a dozen goldeneyes popped up from nowhere and there were lots more tufted ducks but I wasn't seeing me a scaup.

Tufted ducks

The weather got progressively less pleasant but I persevered. I got to the point where I decided to concentrate on the gulls on the irrational premise that the scaup would turn up if I stopped looking for it. A drake goosander turned up instead.

Goosander

I reached the path to Withins Reservoir and had one last look around for the scaup on Elton Reservoir. The rules of dramatic suspense would have it that this is the point at which the scaup hove into view. It didn't.

All the Canada geese were on the field behind the trees to the North of Elton Reservoir. The field by the path, which I'm told is Capsticks, was full of horses and woodpigeons but, strangely, no wagtails, meadow pipits or lapwings. I've yet to get meadow pipits onto the year list despite the visits to Chat Moss and the Sefton coast.

Walking to Withins Reservoir 

The path up to Within Reservoir was a bubbling brook. The reservoir was full to overflowing, very different to my last visit. There were more Canada geese by the far bank with a handful of mallards but any hopes the scaup might be hanging out here for a change came to naught.

Withins Reservoir 

I walked back to the path that leads to St Andrews Road. The weather had brightened which seemed to provoke a couple of song thrushes into song. I walked down to the bus stop to get the 98 into Manchester and passed singing collared doves and starlings along the way. Yet another dip — smew, shore lark, white-fronted goose, now scaup. I felt a bit despondent for a few minutes until I noticed that I was still matching last year's progress with the year list. It's a marathon, not a sprint.

A walk along the Irwell

Goosander

I woke up from one of those nights where every battle for territorial control of the bed was lost to the cat and found myself facing a bright, sunny day. Half an hour later itchy eyes and ears set me wondering what was going on. I checked the weather forecast to see if I needed to worry about any showers and found the pollen count was Very High, an unwelcome escalation of hostilities. I parked all the plans for today and decided I'd have a late afternoon walk when things might be slightly better.

Across the road, in between sessions where PE teachers exercise their vocal chords, there were a couple of dozen adult lesser black-backs with the usual selection of magpies, woodpigeons and jackdaws. This has been par for the course all week. Lesser black-backs are our default Summer gulls but there's a lot more than usual about this year with dozens of them circling round Trafford Park whenever I've been through.

I noticed reports that the weekend's lesser scaup over at Ringley was still around so, lathered in sun block, a nose full of vaseline and a song in my heart I headed over to the Trafford Centre to get the 22 to Clifton, the plan being to cut through Clifton Country Park, bob over the bridge and have a shufti at the sewage works where it was last reported. Lesser scaup's still a new bird for me so I'm trying to take every opportunity to get my eye on on it.

The 22 is one of our longer local routes. Inevitably we hit the school run. In my experience the school run is one of those things ike half-term holidays, inescapable by the use of simple expedients like clocks or calendars. So it was late afternoon when I arrived at Clifton Cricket Club, crossed Manchester Road and headed down Clifton Hall Road to the country park.

Clifton Country Park 

Blackbirds, blackcaps, song thrushes and wrens provided the major part of the songscape. Here and there a chiffchaff might make itself heard or a goldfinch or a greenfinch. Families of great tits and blue tits stole through bushes like thieves in the night. The lake was littered with Canada geese and black-headed gulls, a few tufted ducks and mallards making up the numbers. A pair of great crested grebes cruised midwater, swallows and house martins hawked overhead.

Great crested grebe, Clifton Country Park 

I headed for the river and bumped into a chap who had also come over to look for the lesser scaup. We compared information: I was going off Birdguides which said Ringley and located the bird in the water treatment works there, his information said Ringley but located the bird a mile or more away in the abandoned water treatment works over the river on the other side of Clifton Country Park by the motorway. We went our different ways, each wishing the other good luck. I was suddenly not sure of seeing the bird at all.

River Irwell 

I wandered over to the river and crossed over to the water treatment works. A few mallards bobbed about on the river, a heron fished in the turbulent waters by the outflow and a couple of grey wagtails fussed about on the shingle banks.

Grey wagtail, Ringley 

The water treatment works have been in a constant state of reconstruction for years so it seemed an unlikely place to see a lesser scaup but I've seen rarities in stranger places so who knows. There were a dozen or so black-headed gulls floating about on the pans and lagoons visible from the road into Ringley but no ducks. There are paths I've not explored here so I had a wander round. The best bet seemed to be the path running from Ringley between Ringley Wood and the water treatment works. I walked the length of the path. Lots of woodland birdsong on one side, empty lagoons and pans on the other. So like as not if a lesser scaup was about it was at the abandoned site.

I walked back over to Clifton Country Park and walked along the path following the river. I reckoned I could walk down to Clifton Aquaduct, cross the river then walk back along the river to the abandoned works to look for the lesser scaup then walk back to the current works and head to either Stoneclough or Clifton for a bus. It's a walk I've done before but not one I've done in Summer and that turned out to make a difference.

Clifton Country Park 

Juvenile blackcap, Clifton Country Park 

All the usual woodland birds were singing in the trees along the path. Every so often I could get a clear view of the river. Hereabouts it runs wide and shallow over and between shelves of New Red Sandstone. A couple of times there was a handful of mallards loafing on a rocky bank or dabbling in the shallows, a few times a black-headed gull or two. I'd gone beyond the park, under the motorway and into Clifton Green before I found any goosanders, a pair of redheads dozing on a rock with a couple of lesser black-backs.

Goosander 

Lesser black-back 

Dodging cyclists on the extremely narrow banktop path next to the big construction works you see from the Bolton to Manchester train I found the path verge was a ribbon of common spotted orchids. It's a very long time since I've seen so many together.

Common spotted orchids 

It was late teatime and by this stage I was flagging badly, wiping my eyes and nose every few minutes. I crossed the aquaduct into Waterdale Meadows and decided I didn't have it in me for the walk back the other way. The best bet was to walk through the meadows into Drinkwater Park and get the 93 from Carr Clough into Manchester.

Waterdale Meadows 

Swifts and swallows hawked overhead and the willow warblers, whitethroats and grey wagtails of the meadows gave way to the blackcaps, chiffchaffs and pied wagtails of Drinkwater Park. 

Drinkwater Park 

I decided on a direct route to the bus stop which would be twenty minutes quicker but involved taking one or other steep path up into the housing estate. I opted for the one to Grundy Avenue, it's as steep as the one to the playground but it doesn't crumble underfoot quite as alarmingly as you climb. Even so, partway up I remembered a rubbishy old Australian drama series called "The Flying Doctors" where a heart attack victim was dangling about six feet from the top of a rocky slope and these two cobbers with more safety gear than fifteen Himalayan climbing teams leaned over and shouted: "It's a dangerously crumbly rock surface, we're going to have to leave you to die here and cut you down later, sorry mate." The twittering of house sparrows in back gardens never sounded so sweet.

There wasn't long to wait for the 93. As every other single time I forgot there's a stop at Kersal Castle, I remembered the 52 to the Trafford Centre stops across the road and is due about ten minutes later and I apologised to the driver for rushing off the bus at the last minute. Every. Single. Time. I really should know by now. I idled the time waiting for the 52 watching a couple of dozen sand martins hawking over the river, a pair of tufted ducks by the bank and the mallards and black-headed loafing on the shingle banks downstream. A lunatic voice in my head told me I could have walked here from Drinkwater Park…