Wigan bumper bundle

Reed bunting, Amberswood 

I've been missing out on the passage of common scoters through the region so I thought I'd go over to Scotman's Flash in Wigan where at least one's been settled for a couple of days. There's also a scaup that's been lingering, I don't "need" either for the year list but it would be good to see them and it was a nice day for a walk by the flashes. I got the 132 to Wigan but as we were getting into Hindley I decided it was too nice a day to spend caught up in Wigan town centre traffic so I got off at Gregory Street and walked to the flashes via Amberswood and Ince Cemetery. I can wait for a rainy day to go and see if the golden colossus statue is back in his rightful place.

Amberswood, walking in from Manchester Road 

I'd barely set foot onto the path into Amberswood when I was hit by a cacophony of birdsong. A blackcap competed with a robin and a chiffchaff and they were joined by a dunnock, a wren and a coal tit. I hadn't gone far when a blackbird joined in and a song thrush could be heard further in the wood. It didn't take long for great tits and blue tits to make themselves known, though the blue tits were generally too busy rummaging about in the gorse bushes to get much singing done.

Gorse 

Amberswood 

Things were a little quieter as I left the hedgerows and walked through the woods to the lake. A distant great spotted woodpecker drummed in the trees. A nuthatch drowned out the songs of robins, coal tits and chiffchaffs for a brief moment. And for once the wrens quietly went about their business, at least until they decided that human passers-by needed singing off the territory.

Reed bunting

Reed buntings had the run of the feeders at the corner of the lake, a couple of chaffinches briefly passing by. The titmice and goldfinches were staying in the trees. I couldn't work out if it was one or two Cetti's warblers in the reeds, there was definitely one wandering up and down and the possible second further along might have been the same bird following me down the path.

Mallards and mute swans 

Amberswood Lake 

Mallards, coots, mallards and a great crested grebe were taking it easy on the lake. Unlike the black-headed gulls which spent more time quarrelling than bathing or loafing. Some of the first-Winter birds were starting to get their brown hoods, in contrast to the immature brown wing feathers.

One of the dragonfly ponds 

Amberswood 

I took the path towards Ince and Spring View. The sun brought out the butterflies as well as the singing birds: peacock butterflies fluttered about the verges or basked on top of bramble bushes, there were far fewer brimstones and they kept to the open rides.

Jays

Two pairs of jays were disputing the ownership of a hawthorn bush. There was no shortage of hawthorn bushes but they both wanted this one. The usual raucous calls were subdued and sounded all the more menacing for it. Crests were raised and fluffed up in anger and the blue patches on their wings were made vividly prominent. One pair slunk quietly into the depths of the bush while the other continued to voice and signal their claims to it.

Jays

The path passed through open areas with reedy dragonfly ponds and patches of light wet woodland. I kept an eye and ear out for willow tits but it wasn't my day for it. There were more singing coal tits than great tits, and far fewer singing blue tits. Long-tailed tits skittered about hawthorn bushes in pairs. Every so often there'd be greenfinches or goldfinches in the tree tops, a couple of times it was a couple of siskins. Way overhead a pair of buzzards called as they circled each other on the thermals. Approaching Spring View the little fishing lodges had coots and mallards pottering about, the largest also had a mute swan that seemed to be on its own.

Ince Cemetery 

I'd remembered the paths right and emerged onto Wigan Road opposite the cemetery. I crossed and walked down Cemetery Road, over the West Coast Main Line and through the little industrial estate where the road became the path through to the Wigan Flashes. Chiffchaffs, blackcaps and robins sang in the trees as I walked by.

By Turner's Flash 

Turner's Flash is heard rather than seen along this path. I was hearing a lot of black-headed gulls, coots and Canada geese behind the trees. I heard them all the more when a buzzard left a pathside tree and floated over that way. Jays and magpies called in the trees and woodpigeons clattered about. Blackbirds, robins and song thrushes rummaged about in the undergrowth and the singing great tits took over from the coal tits.

I bumped into another birdwatcher when I reached the canal. He'd seen a couple of whooper swans on Scotman's Flash as well as three common scoters swimming together on the far side. As we were talking both of ours first orange tip butterfly flew by.

Scotman's Flash 

Reed buntings and a Cetti's warbler sang fitfully in the reedbed by Scotman's Flash. A few coots and great crested grebes pottered about this corner of the flash, mallards lurked under the near bank. Over the far side Canada geese and tufted ducks drifted about by the bank and at least one Canada goose was nesting under the trees. 

The whooper swans were distant

The flash opened up as I walked along and now I could see the two whooper swans hiding in plain sight amongst a loose herd of mute swans and a raft of herring gulls and lesser black-backs. Tufted ducks and coots drifted about, the tufties in small rafts and the coots in ones and twos. The three distant "coots" swimming in tight formation became three common scoters as I walked further up the path. I'd kept an eye on them as being something unusual as three coots swimming that close together would have pecked each other to death. There were more cormorants actively fishing than loafing.

Scotman's Flash 

A scaup has been reported here every day recently. The chap I'd been speaking to earlier was walking back and we let on. We compared notes and I mentioned I hadn't had any luck finding the scaup. He'd seen it and was determined that I should see it too. Luckily it hadn't gone far from where he'd first seen it and he picked it up in his telescope. It was bathing just by a group of tufties by the far bank, I'd been seeing it but unable to identify it as anything different. I bade him thanks and he went on his way.

Pearson's Flash 

I toddled into Poolstock, keeping an eye on the flashes either side of the canal. I was getting better, though distant, views of the scoters on Scotman's Flash. A pair of gadwalls were with the mute swans on Pearson's Flash. There were just mallards on Westwood Flash.  Meanwhile, on the canal, a mute swan was busy showing its irritation with pairs of Canada geese.

Poolstock 

I'd had a long, meandering walk and was flagging a bit. I decided I'd get the 639 to the bus station rather than walking down the canal into Wallgate, there was one due in five minutes. This turned out to be a tactical error: the five minutes became twelve and stayed due in twelve minutes for the next twenty, in the end it was thirty-seven minutes late. The sunk cost fallacy is my failing at bus stops, I've too often given up and had my bus sail past fifty yards down the road. I got the train back from Wigan and made the connection with the bus home. I wasn't going to let one bus spoil a very nice day's outing.

Wigan Flashes

Scotman's Flash 

A bright, sunny, if icy, day invited me to go and have a look for that great northern diver on Scotman's Flash. A nip round to check up on my father and take him his newspaper persuaded me that I wanted a hot pot of tea and some toast first. I put out some suet balls in the back garden and knocked the ice out of the bird baths before putting fresh water in them. If I wasn't already aware of the icy air the clouds of condensing vapour rising from the bird baths pretty much made it obvious.

Leeds and Liverpool Canal, approaching Poolstock

I got the trains to Wigan and walked down the canal to Scotman's Flash. It was a beautifully clear afternoon and the walking was remarkably ice-free right up to Scotman's Flash itself where a few patches of dry ice lingered in the cobbles. A pied wagtail fussed about the lock at Chapel Lane. Crowds of mallards milled about and cormorants fished in the stretches of canal with open water. Frozen, open, it seemed to alternate between locks. Titmice, robins and bullfinches fidgeted through the trees across the canal. At Poolstock a pair of goosanders flew up the canal into the town centre. 

Westwood Flash was completely frozen up, I wondered if the other flashes would be, too, and if I'd had a wasted journey.

Scotman's Flash 

At first glance that worry was well-founded: Scotman's Flash was a sheet of ice dotted with gulls. A scan round found a few patches of open water. A thin strip of water by the reeds below Westwood Way was occupied by pairs of mute swans, gadwalls, mallards and goosanders and another fishing cormorant. Way over by Scotman's Island a much larger patch was open and heaving with birds. My guess was that the diver was over that way.

Looking over the canal, Pearson's Flash was nearly entirely frozen with only just enough water on the sunny side of the reeds for a pair of mute swans to cruise up and down.

I walked down the path between the canal and the flash trying to take care underfoot while trying to avoid being dazzled by the low sun as I scanned the flash. A chap stopped me: "Looking for the diver?" he asked. "It's right over there, it's got a small pool to itself. I raised my bins and literally got it first glance. It was a way away but even from here I could see the light catching pale, scaly edgings to the feathers on its back that suggested it was a first-Winter bird. Apparently it was in water right next to the path last night but that froze over overnight. "I didn't have my camera with me last night, I've brought it today and it's right out there!" He had my sympathy. The diver was up and down a lot, sometimes underwater for a minute or so at a time but every time it bobbed back up it was in that little patch of open water.

Black-headed gulls, coots, herring gulls and great northern diver (front)

The bigger stretch of water by the island was heaving with black-headed gulls, mallards and mute swans with more black-headed gulls and herring gulls massed on the surrounding ice. There was a small stretch of clear water by the path on the approach to Moss Bridge, mute swans, mallards and coots stared at passers-by just in case they had any goodies, and every so often they did.

A water rail called from the reeds and I made a token effort at trying to see it. I was glad I did, a pair of tufted ducks flew low over the reeds and headed off up the canal.

I decided to keep on the path on this side of the canal. A firecrest had been reported by one of the woodland paths between Scotman's Flash and Ochre Flash, I didn't reckon I had a chance of finding it but it was an excuse for a bit of an explore. Magpies and jays bustled about and made a racket in the trees by the canal and the sun disappeared behind a low cloud, dropping the temperature considerably.

By the path towards Carr Road

At the next junction I took the path into the woodland for a wander round. Titmice were very much in evidence, nearly all great tits and blue tits. There were lots of blackbirds, nuthatches and robins, too. I was looking in vain for anything that looked like it might be a firecrest, or even a goldcrest as I've not managed to get them onto the year list either. I had a chat with a chap who was going to top up the feeders the other side of Ochre Flash, he told me to keep an eye out for willow tits along that stretch.

I gave up on the firecrest and took the path past a frozen Ochre Flash. A Cetti's warbler gave a burst of song from a scrubby reedbed in the corner, which was a nice surprise and my first warblerof the year. The chap I'd spoken to earlier was sat down at his feeding station surrounded by robins, titmice and nuthatches. The coal tits I hadn't been seeing elsewhere in the woodland were all here.

Ochre Flash 

Looking at the map I reckoned I could walk into the setting sun for the 610 bus back to Wigan. The path left the woodland and became a thin icy lane between hedgerows busy with blue tits, great tits and long-tailed tits. At the first fork in the road I headed due West for Wigan Road, which turned out to be a mistake as there was a big locked gate with "Private No Entry" signs at the end. I retraced my steps and took the path that leads to Land Gate Lane and thence to Wigan Road.

The last few magpies and carrion crows were rummaging in the sheep fields as I passed. Three fieldfares which had settled in a hawthorn bush in the middle of one field rattled out in a panic as a sparrowhawk skimmed over the top of it.

Land Gate Lane

My heart sank when I reached Land Gate Lane. Then I breathed a sigh of relief, it was very wet not icy. I walked down to Wigan Road passing mistle thrushes, blackbirds, robins and blue tits as they settled into the trees and hedgerows to roost. I had five minutes to wait for the next bus as robins sang in the failing twilight.

I don't know why I don't visit Wigan Flashes more often, it's not difficult to get to. Mind you, I could say the same of dozens of places I didn't get to last year.

Damp Tuesday

Taylor Park 

A long-tailed duck was reported on the lake at Taylor Park in St Helens last night and again first thing so I headed thataway. I was unlucky with long-tailed ducks last Winter, Taylor Park is dead easy to get to and experience tells me that if a duck's there it'll be seen eventually, it's a nice, straightforward site to visit.

I got the train to Warrington and the 329 bus to St Helens. Along the way I had a surprise: you don't expect to see a common darter patrolling the roadside as your bus is stuck in traffic on Winwick Road in mid-November. The poor blighter's days were numbered, the weather was turning nasty even as we crawled along. Something else's days were numbered: a kestrel caught a vole on the verge as the bus approached Burtonwood. The vole still had a bit of fight left in it and it wriggled out of the kestrel's grasp about ten feet above the ground. The kestrel wasn't having any, swooped down and caught it in mid-air and flew off. It's difficult to identify a small mammal tumbling through the air from a bus waiting for a gap in the traffic to turn at a junction but judging by the length of the tail I think it was a bank vole.

The plan had been to get a Saveaway at St Helens Bus Station but there isn't one anymore, the temporary bus stops are dotted about the town centre. It was the sort of day that would be good spent sitting on buses finding my way round bits of Merseyside I don't know (the Knowsley and Croxteth areas are blind spots), it wasn't the sort of day for buying a day saver on the bus and trying to explore new places while trying to work out whether the buses you're aiming to use are run by the right bus operator. I bought a day saver and stuck to what I knew today.

Taylor Park

I'd hoped to get to Taylor Park and see the duck before the forecast wintry squall came in. It was raining lightly when I got off the bus and walked to the park. Blackbirds were scoffing berries in gardens and grey squirrels were romping about the Moxon Street entrance to the park. This leads directly onto the Taylor Park Dam, the lake the duck was reported as being on. And was reported to have flown away from forty minutes before I arrived.

So no long-tailed duck. There were no tufted ducks, either. There were plenty of mallards and coots, a handful of moorhens, a couple of Canada geese and a couple of mute swans. A chap told me a sick mute swan had been taken into care a few days ago, which is a worry. There were also dozens of pigeons and black-headed gulls together with a couple of common gulls and a herring gull. I couldn't work out whether one of the black-headed gulls had retained its brown hood since Summer or had prematurely moulted into it. 

It was nice to bump into a couple of mixed tit flocks in the surrounding trees, mostly long-tailed tits with a few blue tits and great tits and one goldcrest. The bird surprise of the day was the kingfisher sitting on the railings by the tearooms. It was off like a shot the moment it saw me.

Taylor Park 

I also bumped into the couple of people I met last week at Leasowe. They managed to see the Lapland bunting despite my being a jinx and they went back a couple of days later and got a closer view of it, and as a bonus they saw the snow buntings that had turned up on the revetment.

I got the bus back to St Helens and got the 320 bus to Wigan, like you do. We were barely out of the town centre when the heavens opened. And then it snowed. The downpour as we passed through Haydock washed away the evidence.

Viridor Wood 

Viridor Wood is on my To Visit list so I got off the bus in Bamfurlong and walked into the wood for a nosy round. The rain had calmed down so I pushed my luck. Also like you do. I was rewarded by half an hour of bright November sunshine, accompanied by flocks of redwings, mixed tit flocks bouncing about in the trees and at least one blackbird in every hawthorn bush. I kept to the metalled paths so as not to push my luck to breaking point.

Viridor Wood, by the West Coast Main Line 

Viridor Wood 

My luck held right up to my approaching the West Coast Main Line. I sheltered in the underpass for a couple of minutes and weighed up the options. I could carry on under the railway and walk over to Abram. Which is a nice walk with not a lot of cover and a bus every half hour from Dover Lock. Or I could walk round in the shelter of the woods back round to Bamfurlong where the buses are about three an hour. Which is what I did.

Coffin Lane Brook 

I took the shortcut along Coffin Lane Brook. One bone dry Summer and you forget how to walk in mud. First chance I got I took the opportunity to leave the moorhens to their own devices and get onto a metalled path. It was nice to finally see my first song thrushes of the month, though.

Viridor Wood 

I didn't have long to wait in the rain for the next 320 and I made the connection with the 132 to the Trafford Centre easily enough. As the bus sat in heavy traffic on Manchester Road I wiped the condensation off the window and looked out and a voice in the back of my head suggested a twilight stroll into Amberswood. I'm not proud of my reply but it came from the heart.

A canalside dawdle

Mallards

The morning started with the first three-figure flock of black-headed gulls I've seen on the school playing field in ages. A hundred and thirty-five of them, all panting in the heat of the morning.

It was a hot and cloudy day, I'd had a busy morning and I'd decided to get the hospital visit done and dusted before going for a walk (patient almost ready to come home, thanks for asking). Coming out I played bus stop bingo: if the 20 came I'd most likely go for a walk over Cutacre, if anything went to the Trafford Centre I'd get a bus into Chorlton for a walk in the Mersey Valley. I didn't want a walk over the mosses in this weather. So the 35 to Leigh turned up first. Whenever I aim to catch that I'm unlucky. Anyhow, the rules of the game is the rules of the game so I got on and started wondering where I was going. I didn't want another visit to Pennington Flash so soon after the last one. It was too warm to explore whether that path in Alder Forest really does lead to Botany Bay Wood. Worsley Woods would be busy with people and barren of birds. I could have a wander over Bickershaw Country Park or that walk from Worsley to Astley…

I got off at Butts Bridge in Leigh and walked down the Bridgewater Canal to Astley.

Blue-tailed damselfly 

The canalside house sparrows flitted to and fro and a few mallards loafed about. A coal tit called loudly from a garden corner. Electric blue lights zipped about the canal surface. A couple were common blue damselflies going about their business. The vast majority were blue-tailed damselflies. Nearly all the butterflies were large whites, and there were plenty of them. Given the abundance of blackberries and nettles I was surprised only to see singles of red admiral and speckled wood.

Canal Turn 

South of the canal

The barley fields between the canal and the East Lancs Road were ripe and golden and full of woodpigeons. At first glance there'd just be a few of them flying around. Every so often a bird-scaring device would go off and there'd be an eruption from the depths, crowds of woodpigeons taking to the air, and just as suddenly disappearing back into the fields. Every so often there'd be an occasional carrion crow or a couple of jackdaws, just to relieve the monotony.

I carried on along the canal. Moorhens puttered about the water's edge. Chiffchaffs, great tits and robins were squeaks in wayside bushes. Woodpigeons barged about in hawthorn bushes. Just as I'd given up on swifts or hirundines a couple of sand martins passed overhead. Swallows hawked over the canalside houses of Marsland Green and crowds of house sparrows bustled about in brambles. Somewhere over by the East Lancs Road a juvenile buzzard shouted for its dinner.

Bridgewater Canal 

A Southern hawker passed by, pausing only to come over and see if I was a thing. Brown hawkers are, for me, the archetypal canal dragonfly and sure enough, there they were chasing each other around bankside trees.

Arrowhead

A willow warbler called, appropriately enough, from a stand of willows. Great tits, chiffchaffs and robins squeaked, wrens churred, blue tits and long-tailed tits passed like shadows through the hedgerows.

Astley Green 

My approaching Astley Green coincided with flocks of starlings joining the woodpigeons in the fields, a flock of swallows hawking low over the canal, and robins and collared doves singing in the trees.

I got to Astley Green in time to see the departure of the 553 bus. I wasn't going to wait an hour for the next one and I didn't have the legs for walking down to Boothstown. Walking over the steep bridge over the canal I wondered if I'd have the legs for walking into Astley, and might have opted for sitting out that hour by the canalside watching the house martins flit by if I hadn't forgotten I'd have to cross the East Lancs Road en route. But I did forget, and I did walk into Astley and the 126 to the Trafford Centre arrived at the Coach Road bus stop the same time I did.

Hindley

Blackcap, Amberswood 

The 132 appeared first at the Trafford Centre bus station so I headed out for Amberswood, getting off on Manchester Road and walking down the shared bikeway. 

Amberswood 

The hedgerows were noisy with singing robins, chiffchaffs, great tits, wrens, dunnocks and blackcaps and the twittering of goldfinches. For once one of the blackcaps was singing out in the open and sat still while I struggled with a fussy background and strong light to get some photos, none of which were much cop. These are the times when I really notice the difference between using a digital SLR and using a bridge camera, with the SLR I could manually tweak the lens smoothly to get the focus exactly where I wanted it, with a bridge camera the camera focus can only be driven mechanically with a series of little jerks. On the plus side, it looks a lot less like I'm pointing a rifle at the birds and it's a third of the weight. Swings and roundabouts.

Amberswood 

It was a bit quieter walking through the woodland, there being less cover. Wrens, blackbirds, coal tits and robins sang while magpies and woodpigeons clattered about in the treetops. A willow warbler sang in a stand of thin birch trees. Furtive movements in hawthorn bushes were as likely to be dunnocks or robins as squirrels.

When I got to the corner of the lake reed buntings (all male) were busy at the feeders with a couple of great tits. I hung around in the hopes a willow tit might make an appearance but no go. A Cetti's warbler sang from the reeds next to the feeding station.

Amberswood Lake 

There were a couple of guys in a boat on the lake so what little bird life there was — the usual pair of mute swans and three great crested grebes, half a dozen mallards, a couple of coots and a handful of black-headed gulls — were at the other end. Unfortunately it turned out we were both going in the same direction. I don't know if it was me or the boat that flushed the water rail out of a patch of thin reeds, I don't often get to see them flying over open water, but it was definitely the boat that made another Cetti's warbler dart out of cover and sing defiance at them from the top of a reed stem.

Low Hall 

I walked across the road to Low Hall where nuthatches and song thrushes joined the songscape.

Shovelers, mallards and lesser black-backs 

The usual pair of mute swans were asleep on the bank of the pond. There was an odd assemblage on the water: a pair of shovelers, two pairs each of gadwalls and mallards, a pair of teal and a pair of lesser black-backs. The noisy pair of dabchicks kept to the reeds.

I wandered round the woodland, hearing more song thrushes and great tits but seeing mostly blue tits and robins. 

Low Hall 

I didn't want to follow the path round back where I started so I turned under the railway bridge and headed down the path that leads to Bickershaw Lane. I wouldn't normally contemplate it as it's as rough as a badger's armpit but the baked hard churned mud was dry, if rugged, walking. The fields by the lane were littered with woodpigeons, jackdaws and carrion crows, the lapwings particularly objecting to the crows.

As I waited for the 609 into Leigh I watched a pair of courting buzzards circling over the field the other side of the hedge and nearly missed noticing the bus turn the corner.

Wigan Flashes

Mute swan, Leeds and Liverpool Canal 

It was a lovely class of day so I thought I'd have a wander about the Wigan Flashes. They're a bit of a faff to get to from here — three buses or two trains and a bus — so I don't visit as often as I should. As it happens I struck lucky: I had five minutes' wait for the 126 at the Trafford Centre and less for the 809 at Leigh. I'd decided to get off at Cemetery Road, walk down past Westwood Cemetery and onto the flashes on the path near Turner's Flash, for no other good reason than I hadn't done it before and I didn't have to go all the way into Wigan to come back out again.

Like most of the best nature reserves in Greater Manchester you have to pass a bit of industry along the way, which is fair enough as most of the best nature reserves in Greater Manchester are industrial relics. In this case the path leading from Cemetery Road passes through a small industrial estate before jinking round a corner into the trees. Robins and great tits sang, blue tits bounced about in bushes and a chiffchaff squeaked from the scrub on the embankment next to a waste management site.

Wigan Flashes 

I passed through the gateway to the Wigan Flashes and walked down the tree-lined brick road. The chiffchaffs were joining in the singing along here. I could hear a cacophony of black-headed gulls over the industrial banging and scraping so I took the side path down to Turner's Flash to see what they were about, passing my first butterfly of the year, a comma fussing about in and out of a patch of brambles.

Turner's Flash 

There were only a dozen or so black-headed gulls at this end of the flash but they were making enough noise for a hundred. Those that weren't paired up and shrieking loudly at each other on little islands were shrieking even more loudly as they chased each other round the block. A few coots and mallards ignored the fray, a lesser black-back had to keep ducking its head as black-headed gulls screamed by.

Buzzard, Turner's Flash 

I walked back to the brick path and wandered down to the canal. I accidentally disturbed a buzzard that was loafing in a tree by the path. It voiced its displeasure and flew off into a tree over on the other side of a clearing and was promptly chased out of it by another buzzard.

Coltsfoot, Scotman's Flash 

The path led to Moss Bridge, which takes you over the Leeds and Liverpool Canal to the Southeast corner of Scotman's Flash. A red-crested pochard had been reported earlier so I thought I'd have a look for it. The best views of the flash are from the canal but the closest views are on the bankside near Scotman Island, the other side of the little bay on this corner. This has the advantage of having a very strong sun behind me so I wouldn't just be squinting at silhouettes so I headed thataway.

Moss Bridge

It's about a hundred yards' walk and nearly most of the way you can't see the lake for reeds. The moorhens in the reeds were easy enough to find, I'd given up on spotting the water rail that was doing all the squealing when I saw its rear end disappearing into cover.

Scotman's Flash

I stood on the bank scanning the bay through the trees. There were plenty of tufted ducks and coots and a couple of swans cruised about. Mallards and teals hugged the edge of the reeds and black-headed gulls flew to and fro. No red-crested pochard though. No matter, I'd try from the canal.

Scotman's Flash (left) and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal (right)

Squinting at the flash from the canal towpath I could see I'd badly underestimated the number of coots and tufted ducks, there were scores of them, mostly cruising about in small rafts that sometimes joined together in passing then broke up as the birds went their different ways. Canada geese were either paired up or being warned off by paired ganders. Way over on the flash proper there was a raft of about a hundred rather noisy black-headed gulls.

A bird emerged from the reeds and the sunlight caught a bit of gingery orange. It was a great crested grebe. It took about a quarter of an hour to find the red-crested pochard which was hiding in plain sight in the raft of coots and tufted ducks over by the island. I wouldn't have been able to see it from that bank. The bright sunlight had reduced it to a silhouette with a few white highlights, I was going by the size and shape when I first noticed it and breathed a sigh of relief when it turned its head and a ginger halo shone for a moment. Another birder turned up and I put him on to it, making a bit of a bad fist of it until the bird drifted a bit closer to landmarks on the bank. Still, he got it and was made up because it was a lifer for him. He went off to get his telescope, I hope he picked it up again and got a good view. They're splendid birds when you can see them properly. None of my photos would do even as record shots.

Tufted ducks, coots and goldeneyes, Pearson's Flash 

I walked down the canal into Wigan. Over on the other side I could see that the coots and tufties on Pearson's Flash included a dozen goldeneyes and a lot of whistling and head-bobbing was going on amongst them.

Poolstock

It was a nice walk down the canal through Poolstock into town. Mallards and mute swans cruised by, robins and great tits sang, carrion crows called the odds and goldfinches twittered through roadside trees. Westwood Flash looked deserted as I passed by.

I weighed up the available options and got the train to Manchester from Wigan Wallgate. It arrived late for my connection home but that was immaterial as the train home had been cancelled. The Wigan Flashes are a bit of a faff for me to get to but I should make the effort more often.