Buxton

Buxton Pavilion Gardens 

It was hot. I got an old man's explorer ticket with a view to getting about, having a quick look at a few places and spending most of the day sitting in air-cooled trains with their windows open. I had plans of going to see if that Slavonian grebe was still at Acre Nook Quarry or the green-winged teal on Sandbach Flashes. Dear reader, I stayed on the air-cooled trains with their windows open watching woodpigeons and butterflies as we passed them by. The outside world was like a school trip to an iron foundry.

By teatime it was bearably hot so I had a wander round the Pavilion Gardens at Buxton. The mallards and geese stayed in the shade of the trees with a couple of mandarin ducks, the drake already in full eclipse plumage. No birds bathed in the stream. The swarms of "bees" over the water turned out, on closer inspection, to be Batman hoverflies. I looked in vain for dragonflies. Not really surprising, I guess, an apparent swarm of bees wouldn't be a draw for them.

The stream through the gardens

It was a very agreeable wander round and much though I wanted to beat myself for being defeated by the weather I couldn't be bothered.

Chelford

Tree sparrow

I've been neglecting Cheshire South of the Mersey so I thought I'd take advantage of a warm, sunny day for a trip down to Chelford to walk round the quarry pools.

Walking down Knutsford Road from the station, dunnocks sang in the hedgerows, blue tits and robins from trees and goldfinches twittered about. Out in the fields there were a few carrion crows and jackdaws, and a pair of stock doves, but oddly enough no woodpigeons.

By Holmes Chapel Road 

There was a cacophony of birdsong from the trees lining Holmes Chapel Road. Robins, blackbirds, chiffchaffs, wrens and great tits were joined by chaffinches, blackcaps, a song thrush, a goldcrest and a coal tit. Blue tits, goldfinches, jackdaws and woodpigeons bounced through the trees, the flimsier the twigs the larger the birds. The sun brought out the butterflies: speckled woods and brimstones fluttered through the trees and one brimstone chased a small white in and out and around a clearing by one of the brooks. As the landscape opened out into the parkland of Lower Withington the jackdaws outnumbered the sheep. On my side of the road a dozen Canada geese loafed by a little pond on the far side of the field. As I walked a few paces ahead and started seeing the pond properly I released there were half a dozen teal in there having a bath.

Holmes Chapel Road 

Lapwing Lane 

Turning onto Lapwing Lane I looked through the trees onto the edge of Acre Nook Quarry. I could pick out a few distant tufted ducks and coots and there was a lot of gulls over the way but I couldn't get a sense of scale of them, I could only identify them as "not lesser black-backs." Which was odd as there was a steady stream of lesser black-backs flying overhead.

Goldfinch 

I walked the length of Lapwing Lane. The mixed songscape in the trees subsided into the songs of robins and goldfinches in the gardens and of tree sparrows in the hedgerows. Much to my delight, as I was taking photos of tree sparrows singing from hedge tops my first couple of swallows for the year twittered over the rooftops.

Tree sparrow

There's a path off Lapwing Lane I've been ignoring for years, assuming it was just a short cut to Holmes Chapel Road. How wrong I've been! There's been some tree clearing and I could see a clear stretch of Acre Nook Quarry showing through. So I walked down and lo and behold! there was the quarry in full open sight from a grassy bank. (Note to self: this isn't the first time I've had to tell you about making assumptions.)

Acre Nook Quarry 

There wasn't a huge lot about on the quarry pool, most of the wildfowl have moved on or are starting their breeding season furtiveness. I could see single figures of coots, tufted ducks, shovelers and Canada geese and a couple of great crested grebes. A dozen or so herring gulls loafed and bathed in the company of a couple of lesser black-backs. A couple of dozen black-headed gulls were very active, snatching emerging midges from just above the water. They were so active I almost missed the adult little gull in the background, looking half the size in comparison and jinking and bobbing in the air like a tern. Actually, no. More like a short-eared owl, that same sort of impression of a butterfly hanging from a length of elastic. One had been reported earlier in the week but I'd assumed it had moved on. It's nice to be wrong occasionally.

Hoof fungus 

The full-on songscape resumed when I walked through The Mosses to Lapwing Hall Pool, with backing vocals from nuthatches and pheasants, a drumming great spotted woodpecker and a calling buzzard. It barely went quiet as a male sparrowhawk shot through the woods.

The Mosses

Passing through the gate and onto the path around Lapwing Hall Pool, willow warblers and reed buntings joined the chorus and a Cetti's warbler sang from the reeds down by the lakeside. A pair of siskins bounced through a stand of pine trees by the path, I'm bumping into them in unexpected places this Spring. The pair of jays was more predictable, as was their silent retreat when they noticed me, almost as sure a sign of spring as singing warblers.

There wasn't much on the pool, a few coots and tufted ducks out in the open and at least one pair of dabchicks lurking by the bankside.

Lapwing Hall Pool 

Oak

I took the cut through the hedges and walked back via Congleton Road, conceding along the way that Cheshire does a fine line in really gnarly oak trees. I hadn't walked far but my knees were making themselves known so I decided against adding in a stroll round Mere Farm Quarry. Along the way back a bullfinch wheezed its way into the songscape and my first small tortoiseshell of the year fluttered about a patch of nettles.

Buxton Pavilion Gardens 

I got the train from Chelford Station and went home via Buxton, like you do. Chaffinches, blackbirds, robins and coal tits sang in the Pavilion Gardens where all the Canada geese were paired up and the only unpaired female mallard was having a very torrid time of it.

Glum

Pavilion Gardens, Buxton 

I'd had one of those night's sleeps where you lie awake and become aware of the approach of dawn, which is not what you want in February. It was a dark, cold grey morning becoming a darker, greyer lunchtime. Each time I looked out of the window there would be eight sparrows on the feeders, but not the same sparrows each time. A couple of times the silver-cheeked cock would be there, another time a dark, steel grey cock and there was a fleeting appearance by one of the very sandy coloured hens. The other birds were keeping very low profiles.

Over on the school playing fields three dozen black-headed gulls joined the handfuls of herring gulls and lesser black-backs in the lunchtime frenzy. An hour later all was quiet: a dozen woodpigeons and seven magpies were feeding on the grass while a huge herring gull supervised them. It was such a big bird that I had to stop and look at it three times to convince myself it really was a herring gull.

I was going to go over to Etherow Country Park to take photos of mandarin ducks in lousy light then I pointed out to myself that this is becoming a reflex habit. So I headed out to Buxton to take photos of mandarin ducks in lousy light because I've not been over there yet this year. As it was the light was very lousy and the mandarin ducks were in skittish mood, flying about chasing each other around the trees and whistling loudly. Or lewdly, perhaps. So no pictures. But I had a brisk walk round as the robins sang and goldfinches twittered in the rain. It was a very fine-looking roebuck watching the train go by as we approached Disley on the way out.

Friday wander

Garden warbler, Birchwood

The weather forecast promised more of yesterday's nonsense with a chance of sunshine late on. The cat promised more of yesterday's nonsense starting at 5:20 (yes, I bear a grudge) after the first time I've managed to sleep through the dawn chorus all week. So I left home.

Moorhen, Buxton

I was weary through lack of sleep and had the attention span of a mayfly on acid so I got myself an old man's explorer ticket, bobbed over to Piccadilly and played departure board bingo, which is how I arrived at Buxton in a dry but cloudy interval. I wandered over to the Pavilion Gardens which were looking lush but some of the lawns still haven't recovered from Winter. Chaffinches and robins sang in the trees, mallards and tufted ducks dozed on the banks of the ponds, moorhens and coots fussed about. The youngest in a party of visitors rustled a paper bag whereupon seventy-odd Canada geese charged over from the other side of the gardens looking like a dangerously bad-tempered Sunday park run.

Canada geese, Buxton

Barnacle goose, Buxton
This chap toddled along behind the Canada geese. It won't be going on my year list though I'd have been tempted if it was January.

Mandarin duck, Buxton

It started pouring down. A drake mandarin duck, halfway moulted into eclipse plumage, ran under a tree and fossicked around in the daisies on the lawn. I left the park and walked up the hill to the bus stop and got the bus to Macclesfield. 

This bus route winds its way along the tops of picturesque Pennine valleys past the Cat and Fiddle before descending into Macclesfield. I've long since given up on trying to get photos of the scenery and just sit back and enjoy it, especially on days like today when the ride coincides with a sunny break in the weather. There's not usually much visible birdlife about, today was a lot busier than usual with a few pairs of carrion crows rummaging about in fields, and a mixed flock of jackdaws and rooks off Old Buxton Road. As we'd just negotiated a tight bend just before the Cat and Fiddle a red kite floated past. At first I assumed it was a hen harrier, I've seen a couple on this stretch over the years, but as it got closer and we passed it I could see the different structure and paler head, the light not picking up any fox red tones.

I got off the bus at Macclesfield Station in the rain and got the train to Stoke because it was there. The weather cleared up en route so I walked down to Manorfields Pools which, now I know the way, is five minutes' walk from the station. A flock of large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs, wheeled high over in the direction of Hanley Park. I should have a nosy over there some time. 

The goldfinches and blackbirds of the university campus gave way to blackcaps and chiffchaffs and it had become warm enough for a handful of common blue damselflies to be flitting about the rank vegetation by the river.

Manorfields Pool

I followed the path round and noticed a gate leading to an overgrown path through the trees to the large pool. It turned out to be a very overgrown path and I suddenly didn't feel so bad about my back garden. Robins, wrens and song thrushes sounded like they were singing within arm's length as I barged my way through dog roses, brambles and nettles. I got to the pool where a pair of mute swans drifted about, a family of coots fussed about and moorhens and mallards kept a low profile. The drake mallards had almost completed their moult into eclipse plumage. I carried on down the path where it was becoming apparent I was the first visitor all year. In the end I gave up, I would have been drier standing in the pouring rain and the vegetation was getting so thick I couldn't disentangle the branches. I retreated, found a set of steps up to the path by the meadows and had a more sensible walk.

Baby coots, Stoke

Magpies and mistle thrushes bounced about the meadows and swifts flew low overhead. Robins and dunnocks hopped about on the path ahead of me, there were more of them in the bushes by the path with more blackcaps and chiffchaffs and a family party of blue tits. What I assumed to be more blue tits in the high branches of a tree turned out to be a pair of goldcrests with a couple of youngsters. A few of the damselflies flitting about by the river turned out to be azure damselflies, they stayed still long enough for me to identify them.

Azure dragonfly, Stoke

I clocked the time and made my way back to the station to catch the train back to Manchester (my ticket was only valid for the hourly Northern stopping train). The train hadn't yet set off when it started pouring down. An hour later we approached Manchester in bright sunshine on a warm Friday afternoon.

I was very tired but I didn't want to waste the weather. I bobbed over to Oxford Road and caught the Warrington train, getting off at Birchwood with a view to having a quick look at Risley Moss before getting the direct train back home just after six. 

Birchwood Forest Wood 

I didn't get there, contenting myself with three quarter of an hour's wander round Birchwood Forest Wood, which has one of my favourite names of multiple redundancy. It's a nice little ribbon of woodland between the railway and the housing estate. Blackbirds, blackcaps, chaffinches and chiffchaffs sang in the undergrowth, song thrushes and woodpigeons sang in the trees. Robins, wrens and dunnocks fussed about the path margins and a great spotted woodpecker's alarm calls made it clear I wasn't a welcome passerby. A juvenile willow warbler was a nice surprise, as was a garden warbler. I'm seeing more garden warblers than I'm hearing just lately which is very much against the usual rub of the game.

I dawdled my way back to the station, had twenty minutes to wait for the train, got home, fed the cat, had a cup of tea and had a few hours' sleep. Somehow or other I'd managed to see forty-six species of birds in the day.

Buxton

Mandarin duck

It was another bleak sort of day with a keening wind and I didn't feel like doing much. My knee told me it didn't want to go for a walk but I still had the fidgets. In the end I wandered into Manchester and got the train to Buxton, thinking I could just have an hour or so's pottering about to get the wanderlust out of my system.

Between Piccadilly and Buxton the birdlife alternated between jackdaws and woodpigeons with a side-serving of magpies and carrion crows and a lot of lesser black-backs on the roof of the bus depot in Ardwick. The gloomy weather was prompting the jackdaws to gather into pre-roosting groups in trees and on rooftops.

Female tufted duck

Female mandarin duck

Arriving in Buxton a flock of fifty-odd jackdaws passed over the station and a dozen pigeons circled round. I had a wander round the Pavilion Gardens which looked as if they'd been blitzed by the Winter rains. There were dozens of Canada geese and mallards, a few coots, moorhens and tufted ducks and half a dozen mandarins, a few more than last time I visited. Robins, wrens and chaffinches sang in the trees and goldfinches twittered in one of the conifer trees.

Mandarin duck 

Pavilion Garden's 

A bit of a potter about to keep me out of mischief.

Buxton

Mandarin duck

It was one of those mornings where I have three options for a day out planned but really couldn't be bothered, a combination of poor sleep and achy joints with the changeable weather, together with an early morning alarm call from a cat that needs to be reminded it wasn't so very long ago she was dining on bits of old mouse and spiders.

Pavilion Gardens, Buxton

Thus it was I had an early lunch and by a series of random happenstances found myself on the train to Buxton and passing through bands of heavy showers and rainbows into a bright sunny afternoon. Which is good because I've been beating myself up again for not getting to All The Places and I haven't been to Buxton yet this year. 

Pavilion Gardens, Buxton 

The birdwatching in the town centre is pretty much what you'd expect in any town centre. A small flock of siskins in the trees in the Pavilion Gardens was a nice surprise. And there were a couple of pairs of mandarin ducks lurking in the shade of the trees by one of the ponds.

One of the many things I like about mandarin ducks is their capacity for turning themselves into un-ducklike abstract shapes. One of the preening drakes was delivering a masterclass.

Mandarin duck

Canada geese and mandarin ducks

I had a pleasant wander round enjoying the scenery and unexpected sunshine, which provided the bit of uplift my spirits evidently needed.

Blackbird

I made my way over to the market square and got the 61 to Glossop and thence got the train home. The 61's meandering route through splendid High Peak scenery was made all the more meandering because of a diversion at Whalley Bridge which imposes an eight mile detour via Chapel-en-le-Frith to service bus stops less than half a mile apart. The black-headed gulls we're no longer seeing in lowland Greater Manchester are now gathering in the upland fields before moving onto nesting territories up on moorland pools and reservoirs.

From the bus along Long Hill

I need to take more advantage of these £2 maximum bus journeys while they're still available.

From the bus: Lantern Pike from Birch Vale