Sandbach

Trent and Mersey Canal 

Today's planned outing was an ambitious one so to be on the safe side I set my alarm, something I do about three times a year. Unfortunately my body clock is as impatient as the rest of me and I was awake before the alarm, a good four hours before the alarm in fact. I scotched the plan and managed to steal another half hour's sleep later in the morning so I didn't feel as entirely wrecked as I had at half seven. So I had a very early lunch and a think about what to do with another sunny May day. 

The plan for getting over the usual June and July slump when all the small birds go undercover for the post-breeding moult is to catch up with places I've not visited for a while, plus a few new places I've got in mind. So I brought one of them forward and headed out for an afternoon's wander round the Sandbach Flashes.

I got the train to Sandbach and headed South, walking down Moston Road, bobbing under the railway bridge and over the canal then down Hall Road, turning down Clay Lane for the flashes. (I could have waited for the 317 bus which passed me just before the bus stop on Hall Road but to be honest it's not worth the bother given it only gets you halfway along the journey.) Hall Road was a lot busier than I remember it being; luckily there's a wide grass verge by the golf driving range so there's only a couple of stretches, each about a hundred yards, that are a bit scary.

Most of the singing in the hedgerows was done by chaffinches with backing vocals by chiffchaffs and blackbirds. A couple of blackcaps sang in the trees and families of blue tits and great tits churred in the undergrowth.

Mute swans, herring gulls and lesser black-backs
Elton Hall Flash 

Reaching Elton Hall Flash I was struck by the hundred or so large gulls, about equal numbers of herring gulls and lesser black-backs, loafing on the gravel banks. A herd of swans cruised about, mallards dabbled and a dozen lapwings mooched about. A couple of mallards had ducklings with them, as did a couple of pairs of shelducks.

Elton Hall Flash 

On the way down to Sandbach I noticed a report of a night heron roosting in the trees by the Pumphouse Flash, that's the flash furthest down the lane, so I headed for that. There's a footpath into the field by the flash and there was a small group of people standing a way down by some trees so I headed their way.  Along the way I had to dance around some young bullocks that wanted to get a drink from the pool at the side but didn't want me walking between them and the grazing on the field which was very much like having to tiptoe round the cat when I'm trying to put her bowl done but about two tons heavier. Luckily it turned out that they were an amiable bunch and I got past them without any hassle.

Pumphouse Flash 

As I got to the group one of them was explaining to a couple of the others where to find the night heron. It turned out to be easier than I'd expected, it was showing quite well though it was too distant for any of my photos to be any good even as record shots. There were a lot of trees and shrubs in full leaf but it had decided to lurk by some dead branches. It's been a remarkable Spring for them.

I was puzzled for a long while by a white blob deep under some bushes about halfway between the night heron and the road. In the end I cheated and took some photos and zoomed into them on the screen on the back of my camera. It was a drake shoveler almost dug into the bank for a sleep. I'd noticed a duck shoveler nearby and wondered where the drake was but it hadn't occurred to me to join the dots. I'll blame lack of sleep for that bit of poor fieldcraft.

Joining the path off the road

Elton Hall Flash 

I wandered back, taking the little path between Elton Hall Flash and the road to see what else was about. The Canada geese seemed to be unpaired and there were no goslings about. A Cetti's warbler sang briefly from the reeds by the Pumphouse Flash while a sedge warbler sang from the rough across the road. I looked in vain for any waders that weren't lapwings.

Trent and Mersey Canal 

I made my way back but instead of going back up Moston Road I walked up the canal to Platt Lane then down Moss Lane back to the station. There weren't many birds on the canal, just a family of mallards, but plenty in the hedgerows and the fields over by Watchlane Flash. Goldfinches, house sparrows and greenfinches twitted about while there was a steady traffic of crows, jackdaws and woodpigeons overhead. The young blackcaps churring at me from an elder bush were so young their caps were still dusty brownish grey and hadn't yet taken on the rich caramel brown hues of juvenile plumage. 

Looking towards Red Lane

A buzzard flying round the trees by Red Lane was harassed by jackdaws until it moved on to Platt Lane where it was harassed by carrion crows. Having moved the buzzard along the crows returned to the trees by the canal where a lot of noisy cawing from their youngsters sounded unnervingly like a victory celebration.

I only had ten minutes to wait for the train back. I seriously considered stopping off at Chelford to have a look at the common scoter that's been at Mere Farm Quarry the past few days. I've got this site on my list of places I need to explore. Realistically, I was tired and I'd just done five miles' road walking so I decided not to push my luck. It had been a good afternoon's wander in very pleasant weather, it would have been a shame to spoil it.

Ossett

Black-crowned night heron.

I've been conscious that I haven't explored much of nearby Yorkshire, something I'm planning on rectifying this year. A couple of night herons showing well on the Calder at Ossett over the Easter weekend gave me an excuse to make a start on it.

The weather forecast was for heavy rain and I dressed accordingly. In fact it was a bright sunny day and it was only late in the afternoon when it clouded over and started raining.

I got the train from Manchester to Dewsbury, walked over to the bus station and caught the 126 to Ossett, getting off on Station Road and walking down Healey Road to the river. There are sometimes downsides to twitches but the upside is that rather than wondering which path to take you can pass by the returning birdwatchers as if you were following a trail of breadcrumbs. Thus it was that I bobbed over the bridge and followed the path upstream. Chiffchaffs sang and foraged in the scrub by the path and a willow warbler sang from some birch scrub beyond. Sand martins buzzed about the river and its banks while mallards and goosanders dabbled and dived.

River Calder, Ossett 

The only obstacle to a very straightforward walk was a spitefully parked muck-spreading trailer. I had wondered why some large stones had been removed from the side of the path earlier on. The fence was a godsend.

A makeshift stile

An amiable crowd of birdwatchers was standing on a bend of the river staring at willow scrub on the bank opposite. I looked in vain for any night herons. I asked the chap next to me if he'd had any luck. He put me onto a white patch in the depths. "I've been here two hours and that's as much as I've seen of it." I thanked him, stared hard at the bird and thanked my lucky stars that my first night heron was a lot more obliging than this.

First sight: there's a night heron in them there twigs

I walked upstream a bit and found I got a marginally better view of the bird including the top of its head and occasional glimpses of the long white streamer tucked behind its ear.

I'd passed a few small tortoiseshells on the way in. Brimstones and orange tips busied themselves along the bank and the trees behind us. A blackcap sang in the trees behind us and goldfinches and great tits bounced between the trees on either bank. A kestrel hovered over the field beyond the trees on the far bank, occasionally pestered by rooks and carrion crows. A buzzard floated over unmolested.

The night heron moved out of view, shuffling down from its branch and I thought I'd had my lot. Then it shuffled out into a more open spot in the willow scrub on the other side of the tree it had been sat in and we got much better, if obstructed, views. There was no sign of any second bird.

Black-crowned night heron.

All the bird's movements were slow and deliberate, like a on old man negotiating a rickety ladder. It spent all its time either dozing or preening or, a couple of times, apparently both.

A kingfisher shot down the river to provide a cherry on the cake for us.

River Calder, Ossett 

Eventually I walked back, a grey wagtail flitting by me as I walked over the bridge. I'd noticed that there was a 120 bus due at the stop by the bridge. I could have taken it to Ossett bus station for the bus back to Dewsbury but on a whim I took it all the way to Wakefield just to get a better feel for the area. I'd hoped to get a train from Wakefield to Dewsbury but that doesn't seem to happen anymore. I was tempted to get the bus to Huddersfield and thence the train home to get a feel for the area South of the Calder but by this late in the afternoon I didn't have the energy for such a long bus ride. So I got the 126 back to Dewsbury and the train home.

A pleasant walk in a new place, it was good to see a night heron and the supporting cast was pretty good, too.