Woolston

Juvenile grey heron, Woolston Brook 

It was a game of two halves. The morning continued the heavy rain of the night before and had a cold wind to add to the misery. The wind lingered past lunchtime but the clouds rolled away and by mid-afternoon it was a sunny Summer's day. I decided I'd have a walk down to Woolston Eyes to see how the nesting Mediterranean gulls were getting on — the reports are that they have chicks — and see if I have any luck spotting any young black-necked grebes.

Woolston Brook 

I got the train to Padgate and walked down to Woolston Brook. Blackbirds, blackcaps, wrens and robins sang in gardens and the hedgerows by the brook. The wind eased and I took my coat off as I walked along the brook. A chiffchaff joined the songscape, as did greenfinches, dunnocks and woodpigeons. A song thrush scuttling along the path had too many worms in its beak to venture a song. Blue tits marshalled youngsters through the trees like the Bash Street Kids on a school trip. Halfway along a young heron, all dark and grey, was picked out from hiding by the sun shining through the reeds.

The New Cut

The songscape was sparse along the New Cut Trail, for the most part just the occasional chiffchaff, woodpigeon or wren, the songbirds were busy gathering food for hungry mouths or herding unruly youngsters through the undergrowth. Dunnocks and blackbirds reluctantly made way for passersby, flying up into the trees on the cut if the passersby had four legs each. Song thrushes were a bit more cautious, the robins so cautious I was a long way down the trail before I heard or saw one. The warming sun brought out the butterflies, a few speckled woods and large whites skittered over the reeds in the stretch by Grey Mist. My first black-tailed skimmer of the year hawked low over a patch of borage sown behind one of the gardens by the trail. 

Ladybird larvae eating aphids
I think these are harlequin ladybirds, there were a lot of 13-, 14- and 15-spot ladybirds about.

The calls of black-headed gulls heralded the approach to the end of the cut at Woolston Weir. Just before I got there I heard an unfamiliar gull call and looked up to see a Mediterranean gull, a second calendar year bird, float over the treetops. I shouldn't have been so surprised, if there's a pair nesting on Woolston Eyes it's not unreasonable to find others nearby.

Tufted ducks

The river was high and fast after a weekend of heavy rains. A crowd of tufted ducks dozed on the river upstream of the weir and a gadwall quickly disappeared into the cover of the bank. Mallards fussed about by the bridge over the gates. As I crossed over I was escorted by a cob mute swan whose pen was on a nest in the reeds on the other side.

Woolston Weir 

The walk up and along the bank by No.2 Bed was accompanied by peacock butterflies and a thin songscape of blackcaps, chiffchaffs, Cetti's warblers and song thrushes. Black-headed gulls flew about, calling loudly whenever a lesser black-back cruised by. The views of the river were now largely obscured by a lush growth of bracken and Himalayan balsams. Every so often I'd see a few tufted ducks or a great crested grebe. Most of the time I'd just see a lush growth of bracken and Himalayan balsams.

Walking over to No.3 Bed

I was so busy worrying about fiddling with the padlock on the gate on the bridge and dropping my keys in the river that I walked past the path to the bridge, only realising I'd overshot when I got to the car park. Which shows how useful irrational anxieties are. The padlock opened first go and I was across the bridge. For once there weren't any ducks at all lurking on the river on this bend.

Blackbirds and blackcaps were doing the bulk of the singing on the other site with backing vocals from wrens, chiffchaffs and dunnocks. As I got to the top of the bank a buzzard flew over from No.2 Bed and headed westwards. Oddly, this didn't cause a clamour from the black-headed gulls nesting on this bed. Unlike the great black-back that passed by as I was settling into the Sybil Hogg Hide.

From the Sybil Hogg Hide 

A crowd of gadwalls littered one of the pools by the hide. Canada geese, coots and greylags cruised about, the greylags heard more than seen. There was a lot of kerfuffle in the distance as the black-headed gulls saw off a lesser black-back. Closer to hand a male marsh harrier rose out of the reeds and quickly flew over the river.

Blue-tailed damselfly 

The bracken and brambles by the hide swarmed with blue damselflies. There were yet more along the path. Most were common blue damselflies, they swarmed about the bracken tops. Blue-tailed damselflies flitted about the path verges with their rather fluttering flight. A few azure damselflies were mixed in with the common blue damselflies, I could see that they were different but it was only when I caught them at rest I was confident of the identification.

Azure damselfly

Common blue damselfly

I'd managed to pick out the azure damselflies — well, the male ones anyway — from the swarms but there were a few individuals that looked different again. I wasn't sure if it was just that they were freshly emerged and still not in their mature colours or if there was something else I was seeing but not registering. Luckily a couple stayed still long enough for me to take photos to check out when I got home. I had a surprise. I've often thought I'd have no chance identifying variable damselflies but it wasn't much of an issue because they're very uncommon in Northwest England so it wasn't like I'd be likely to bump into in one. Well, I was wrong. 

Variable damselfly
The wine goblet-shaped black mark at the top of the abdomen is the easiest identifying feature.

Blue tits, goldfinches and long-tailed tits fidgeted about in the trees and bushes along the path. As the path led into the meadows whitethroats churred from the brambles or jumped up into hawthorn bushes to watch me on my way. There weren't a lot of butterflies about, just a handful of red admirals. After an encouraging start it's being another bad early Summer for butterflies.

A map of No.3 Bed

From the John Morgan Hide 
The nesting rafts are on the right.

I went straight to the John Morgan Hide to see what was about. A couple of lapwings flew about, it looked like they'd finished their breeding season, I couldn't see any evidence of any youngsters. Most of the black-headed gulls were nesting on the rafts in the pool though one pair had a nest on the go in front of the hide.

Black-headed gulls 

Canada geese, gadwalls, shelducks and pochard

Canada geese, gadwalls, a few mallards and shelducks loafed and dozed. Tufted ducks and pochards pottered about or drifted on the water. Here and there a great crested grebe cruised by the reed margins. A dozen swifts hawked low over the reeds, I couldn't see any hirundines. Aside from the black-headed gull colony, a big aside admittedly, it was all rather quiet. 

The grass on the little islands was high enough to nearly hide Canada geese, the gulls on nests were small patches of white showing through. The rafts further out were carpeted in gulls. They were too far away to be able to see any youngsters though it looked like parents were feeding something at a couple of the nests. The Mediterranean gull nest was largely hidden from view from where I was sitting. I was relying on memory as to where it was and had just decided I'd got it dead wrong when I was proved right as the pair switched over and the sitting bird got up to stretch its legs and have a quick wash.

Black-headed gulls, Canada geese and Mediterranean gull (left)
(Heavily cropped photo)

Black-necked grebe 

The black-necked grebes were mostly distant and hugged the reed margins. A couple had youngsters in tow. One pair and their youngster were closer to hand but kept the reeds between them and the hide.

Black-necked grebe and chick

I decided that the cuckoo I was hearing was wishful thinking but it was very insistent and flew behind the hide and called for a good five minutes, which I concluded was convincing evidence it was real.

Walking back to the bridge

As I wandered back one of the whitethroats sang from the air before settling into a hawthorn bush. Walking down to the bridge I bumped into a family party walking up. "Is the cuckoo about?" I was asked. "Yes, it's calling now," I replied. The Cetti's warbler belting out a song by the path obligingly took a break and the cuckoo could be heard from the meadow. We parted and I walked down to struggle with the padlock on the gate and thence back onto the path by the Ship Canal.

Google Maps always tells me I'm going to take ten minutes longer to get to the bus stop at Latchford Locks than it does but better safe than sorry. I bustled by singing greenfinches, Cetti's warblers and chiffchaffs. Blackbirds, song thrushes and a chaffinch sang in the trees. I was expecting the ducks flying in out of the sun to be mallards but they were shovelers, a reminder not to make assumptions.

I had ten minutes to wait for the 5a which took me into Partington and five for the 255 back to Urmston whence I walked home. The noisy part of the breeding season is definitely over but there's still plenty about to be seen.

Pennington Flash

Canada goose and little ringed plover

It was a greyer sort of a day than it has been lately but still not unpleasant. I dawdled about all morning then got the buses over to Pennington Flash for an afternoon wander.

Jay

Robins, great tits and blackbirds dominated the songscape on the way in from St Helens Road. Blue tits, wrens, chaffinches and goldfinches quietly went about their business, magpies and woodpigeons made a lot of noise about it. A jay silently escorted me past its territory. 

Pennington Flash
We're early into the butterflies and landscape photography phase of the year.

Pennington Flash 

The car park was Summer quiet, small groups of mallards, Canada geese and black-headed gulls loafing about, coots chugging past like freight trains past a colliery. There were more coots out on the flash, together with a small raft of lesser black-backs and a few herring gulls and great crested grebes. A couple of common terns made a disproportionate amount of noise as they fished around the buoys. There were a lot of small, dark shapes almost skimming the top of the water, it took me a while to be sure they were all sand martins the light was so dull.

Ruff (left) and little ringed plover
The little ringed plover showing how suitable its plumage is on its preferred freshwater shingle. Luckily they are mostly insanely active and they catch the eye as they run about.

At the F.W.Horrocks Hide a chap put me onto the couple of distant black-necked grebes on the flash and four ruffs on the spit. All the ruffs looked like females (calling them reeves seems to be going out of fashion) and a couple of them were strikingly plumaged with wings and backs like a black and tawny checkerboard. Reeves' plumages aren't anywhere near as variable as their male counterparts but they can provide plenty enough confusion seen own their own in an unfamiliar context. They're not common at Pennington Flash but at least they're on the radar. A couple of little ringed plovers flew in and there were a couple of common sandpipers rummaging about in the shingle further back. At one point there were five ruffs and four little ringed plovers skittering about, which is very good to see here. None of them came very close.

Little ringed plover, ruff and Canada goose

A few lapwings, cormorants and lesser black-backs loafed at the end of the spit. Woodpigeons and mallards rummaged about in the vegetation on top. Looking over towards Ramsdales there was a lot of noise and activity from the black-headed gulls on the nesting raft. Shovelers and gadwalls took some finding, I didn't see a single teal all afternoon. This time of year that's strangely encouraging.

The chiffchaffs in the trees were mostly being as quiet and unobtrusive as the titmice. Unlike the reed warblers and Cetti's warbler singing by the Kidney Pool opposite the Tom Edmondson Hide.

The Kidney Pool

At first sight it was quiet on the pool in front of the Tom Edmondson Hide. Canada geese and coots dozed, a couple of gadwalls and shovelers drifted by and into the reeds and on to Pengy's Pool. An extremely dapper male dabchick, all polished mahogany with rusty highlights, made a brief appearance before disappearing into the reeds when a heron flew over. Then a pair of magpies found a moorhens' nest. Sound and fury there was much. The magpies were unsuccessful this time but I wouldn't lay odds on any eggs in the nest lasting very long.

From the Tom Edmondson Hide 

From Ramsdales Hide 

The scrape at Ramsdales looked even dozier at first. Canada geese and mallards slept on the banks. Lapwings wandered about apparently aimlessly, which usually means they have a working nest wherever it is they aren't walking and whichever bird isn't sitting is keeping vigil. I eventually spotted one sitting female on a nest. There will have been more I missed. A couple of little ringed plovers had been quietly dashing about on the mud. This all changed when a third flew in. For the next ten minutes two of them flew about chasing each other round the place, calling loudly all the while. I made no attempt whatever to get a photo, I knew when I was beaten and just settled back to watch the show.

Pennington Flash 

A little gull had been reported on the flash at lunchtime so I wandered back to try my luck. I sat on a bench by the F.W.Horrocks Hide and scanned around. If there was a little gull still about it was either over by the rucks or the sailing club, it certainly wasn't in sight from here. Black-headed gulls and common terns wheeled about catching midges and the distant cloud of sand martins had been joined by at least a dozen swifts. Then I had a bit of luck. One of the terns didn't look quite right. Usually, especially in flat grey light like today, that means I'm seeing it at a funny angle and if I keep tabs on it awhile it'll turn out to look exactly the same as the others. Except this time it didn't, it was uniform silver grey above and had bright white underwings. My first Arctic tern of the year. They're regular but uncommon visitors and I nearly always miss them as they pass through so I was quite chuffed to pick one up today.

Walking back to St Helens Road 

I wandered back for the bus into Leigh, the rain started as the 126 passed through Astley and fizzled out as we got to the Trafford Centre. It was obviously one of my luckier days.

Woolston Eyes

Domestic (greylag) goose, shelducks, black-headed gulls and gadwall

The weather was set fair, the pollen count wasn't ridiculous, so I thought I'd walk down from Padgate and have a wander about Woolston Eyes.

For once I wasn't upset about a late-running train, three minutes after it was due I saw my first swift of the year flying high over Humphrey Park Station. The train arrived less than a minute later. I took both as good omens.

Woolston Brook 

Daisies

I walked down from Padgate Station to Woolston Brook and followed it down to Manchester Road. The birds were in full song. Blue tits, blackcaps and robins were joined by blackbirds, wrens, woodpigeons, great tits, greenfinches, dunnocks and goldfinches. Chaffinches pinked from trees, house sparrows chirped from hedgerows and magpies barged about. There had been an emergence of holly blue butterflies, they were flittering about all over the shop. Orange tips and peacocks littered the verges, speckled woods bustled about hedgerows, a few small whites almost passed unnoticed amongst the orange tips on the drifts of hedge garlic and my first of what almost certainly be many hundreds of large whites this year skittered over the brook. A pair of mallards dozed on the brook, at least one pair of moorhens fidgeted about in the depths of reeds and flag iris.

Paddington Meadows 

Crossing the road I thought I'd have a bit of a diversion and spent quarter of an hour nosying around the top end of Paddington Meadows, adding a reed warbler and a couple of whitethroats to the songscape.

Brimstone 

It was nice to get out of the wind in the walk down the New Cut to Woolston Weir. Chiffchaffs joined the songscape from the willows, Cetti's warblers from wet bramble patches and depths of reeds. It seems to be a bumper Spring for Cetti's warblers, they're numerous and vocal. Moorhens and mallards drifted in and out of drowned willows. Titmice, wrens and robins bounced about in the trees, blackbirds chased across the path, magpies and woodpigeons clattered about. Brimstones and green-veined whites joined the cavalcade of butterflies fluttering about the path.

Grey Mist 

The New Cut 

Over on Grey Mist I could see a few tufted ducks and mute swans. The usual coots were notably absent, which this time of year is a good sign.

Grey wagtail

At Woolston Weir a line of a dozen tufted ducks drifted upstream like a search party combing the water. Pairs of mallards and great crested grebes drifted about and a male marsh harrier floated by before heading for No.2 Bed on Woolston Eyes. Mallards dozed and a grey wagtail rummaged about on the detritus caught by the weir gate. 

River Mersey, Woolston Weir 

Downstream a few black-headed gulls fussed about, there were more mallards and tufties, a pair of shelducks and a mute swan. At the corner where the river splits in two a great crested grebe sat on its nest.

Great crested grebe 

I climbed up and followed the path above the river. Warblers were in full song, Cetti's from the depths of the bank, whitethroats and blackcaps in the hawthorns and willows along the tops and chiffchaffs all over the place. As I turned and started the descent a garden warbler started singing. It took me a while to be sure I wasn't misidentifying a blackcap — they'd been providing a surprising number of variations on the theme — but having a couple of very different blackcaps within earshot, one with a rolling, bubbly song and one shot with shrill notes, helped the process along.

Looking down on the Mersey from the path

The orange tip butterflies were getting frisky in the sun. Younger readers may wish to avert their gaze.

Orange tip butterfly naughtiness.
Here the lady orange tip butterfly is saying: "Hello sailor, fancy a nice time ducky?"

The male orange tip indicates a modicum of interest

Then rather a lot more interest

Having bid farewell to her suitor the lady closes her wings to become less conspicuous and ponders the wonders of motherhood

Crossing over to No.3 Bed 

While I was negotiating the padlock on the gate to the bridge over to No.3 Bed I noticed a red-eared terrapin sunning itself on the roots of one of the riverside willows. The pet trade's response to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles craze has some to answer for. Two shapes zipped past over the treetops, I couldn't tell if the kestrel was chasing the sparrowhawk or the sparrowhawk chasing the kestrel. Given kestrels' habit of stealing from other birds of prey, and sparrowhawks' impatience with being stolen from, it could be either way.

Willow warblers joined the songscape but it was the noise of black-headed gulls that dominated the landscape. A quick Dekko from the Sybil Hogg Hide confirmed that there were a lot on the bed and that there was a lot of activity on the breeding rafts. I wondered if I might strike lucky with black-necked grebes and found lots of gadwalls and pochards, which is no bad thing. My first sedge warbler of the year sang from the reed margins in front of the hide, its free-form riffs distinguishing it from the more integrated improvisations of a reed warbler over to the right.

Walking to the Morgan Hide 

Solomon's seal 

I walked round to the Morgan Hide. I looked at the big shipping container hide and decided against. I didn't fancy being up there in this wind and the knees didn't fancy the climb up the scaffolding. I'm getting delicate in my old age. I tiptoed past butterflies, bumblebees and stands of Solomon's seal and cuckoo pint as great tits and whitethroats churred their displeasure and long-tailed tits tutted and faded into cover. 

Shelducks

I climbed up to the Morgan Hide and looked out over the rafts. Shelducks and gadwalls dominated the rafts immediately in front of the hide though they were loafing about rather than nesting. A lone lapwing flew about in a very agitated manner, chasing passing ducks as furiously as it did jackdaws or magpies. Pochards, coots, tufted ducks and great crested grebes drifted about, greylags cruised like noisy dreadnoughts, and mallards and gadwalls dabbled about the margins. 

Gadwalls

The rafts further out were seething with black-headed gulls, most of them on nests. I wasn't sure if the pair of lesser black-backs in the background were nesting or just keeping watching on the pantry. A pair of Mediterranean gulls in the middle of one of the rafts spent a lot of their time stealing nesting materials from the black-headed gulls. They're not yet on the breeding list for Woolston Eyes, fingers crossed for this year.

Gull breeding rafts on No.3 Bed
Mostly black-headed gulls, a pair of lesser black-backs at the back, a Mediterranean gull in the middle

I wasn't finding any black-necked grebes. I was about to give up and move on when I noticed a mute swan I hadn't seen. If I could be overlooking a mute swan… I found a pair of shovelers and some teal. All the small dark shapes in the reeds were female pochards.

Gadwall
I forget they have yellow feet, I so seldom see them properly out of water.

Moving on, I was reminded that the big shipping container wasn't the scariest hide on the reserve. Or the second scariest. You need a head for heights on this bed. I climbed up into the Warrington Rotary Hide for a look over the corner I've found best for seeing the black-necked grebes. There were half a dozen out on the water showing well, all of them distant and all very actively feeding.

The black-necked grebes were showing well but distant

Black-headed gulls 

Black-headed gulls and pochards 

Cowslips 

Back down on terra firma I wandered back via the meadows which were awash with cowslips and bees. I noticed a few oxlips in there, natural hybrids between cowslips and primroses. Dandelions, lady's smocks and daisies were dotted about and a damp patch had a drift of snakeshead fritillaries, which are always nice to see in the wild.

Cowslip

I rarely see a pure white snakeshead fritillary, white ones usually have a pale green checkerboard pattern to them.

Back to the bridge

The whitethroats, greenfinches and goldfinches of the meadows gave way to the chiffchaffs, robins, blackcaps and great tits of the woody scrub. I made my way back to the bridge and took three goes at getting the padlock open, there's a definite knack to it and it's not one I instinctively incline towards, then wandered round onto Thelwall Lane. 

Walking by the canal to Thelwall Lane 

The willow warblers singing from No.4 Bed almost beguiled me into having a wander round but I knew I didn't have the legs to add that to the walk, it's a long drag down the lane to the bus stop. I'll need to come in this way next time and just confine the walk to the two beds. I walked into Latchford and got the bus into Warrington and thence home.

Looking at my records, and looking at the birds being reported by other people, this year's Spring passage feels more intense than usual. It's hit like a ton of bricks. This isn't a complaint, mind. Whether it's a lot more birds, a lot more birdwatchers, or both,  it can't be a bad thing.