Flixton

Grey wagtail, Flixton Bridge

I decided I needed a couple of hours' exercise so I got the 256 into Flixton and had a wander round Wellacre Country Park. It was a bright, if cloudy, afternoon with a fair wind blowing in from the West.

Wellacre Wood

There were family parties of blue tits and long-tailed tits bouncing round in the trees and bushes at the entrance to Wellacre Wood. The sound of the wind in the trees all but drowned the songs of the chiffchaffs and blackcaps, the blackbirds and a song thrush managed to make themselves heard.

A couple of house martins caught my eye as they flew around over Irlam Locks. Scanning round I could see there was a flock of nearly a hundred sand martins whizzing round between the stables and the water treatment works, a couple of swallows hawked around the stables.

Lesser stitchwort, Wellacre Country Park

The field by Jack Lane was awash with lesser stitchwort. I can't remember noticing that this has a scent before but the field fair reeked of honey.

The wind was doing such a number on the reedbeds that most of the small birds were keeping their heads down. A chiffchaff sang from a stand of willows and a reed bunting from the shelter of a hawthorn bush. I've often heard water rails here but never seen one, today I struck lucky: I couldn't see the adult that was squealing from the reeds but I could see the very young chick scuttling about in the fringes. I've never seen a water rail chick before, it looked like a moorhen chick without the tiny shield above its beak. It quickly disappeared into the depths after its parent.

Dutton's Pond

This moorhen chick insisted on pecking my boot
Dutton's Pond

There was a profusion of very young moorhen chicks on Dutton's Pond, most of them taking more notice of what the mallards were up to rather than shadowing their parents. They've certainly learned how to beg for food off humans, I had to ask one of them to stop pecking my boot to get my attention. I think there are two moorhen families on here at the moment, one of which is on its second brood having raised one youngster to nearly full size. I was hoping to see a few dragonflies today but no joy and the wind had kept all but the speckled wood butterflies under shelter.

Moorhen chick, Dutton's Pond

The wind had calmed down a bit by the time I started wandering round Fly Ash Hill. The willows by the railway line were busy with small birds: young families of blue tits, great tits, long-tailed tits and blackcaps and chiffchaffs, wrens and robins foraging for nestlings. Out in the open areas whitethroats and greenfinches sang from the tops of hawthorn bushes while a couple of house martins and a swallow hawked at treetop height.

I walked down to Flixton Bridge to have a look to see if anything was on the river. It was very quiet. I'd just concluded that the only thing on offer was a dark shape that dived underwater on the bend by the garden centre (either a dabchick or a drowning rat) when a grey wagtail flew up, landed on the telegraph wire over the river and started singing.

A fairly quiet Sunday afternoon toddle around but I'd seen something new in the process.

Kindergarten

Juvenile dunnock

All of a sudden the garden's full of young birds. I knew the baby spadgers were about by the chirruping in the roses while the fat balls were disappearing from the feeders. They've been out in force today, taking advantage of the sunshine. I haven't seen the young great tits for a couple of days. Their spaces on the seed feeders have been taken by  a couple of young blue tits, their lemon yellow faces contrasting with the blackish faces of their parents in their post-breeding moult. Yesterday a family of goldfinches flew in, I think they've been crowded out by spadgers today. A lot of frantic squeaking and fluttering in the rowan tree turned out to be the arrival of the first young dunnock.

• Blackbird 2
• Blue Tit 2
• Dunnock 2
• Goldfinch 3
• House Sparrow 18
• Jackdaw 1
• Swift 1
• Woodpigeon 2
• Wren 1

The flock of forty-plus woodpigeons are pretty much a fixture over on the school playing field this week. There's usually a couple of dozen starlings and a handful of pigeons with them, the jackdaws, rooks and magpies come and go ad lib while the family of three carrion crows tend to turn up late in the day. Some days there's a few lesser black-backs about, usually with a herring gull or two with them. Herring gulls are becoming more frequent Summer visitors over the past couple of years.

Leigh

Lapwing chick, Pennington Flash

I looked at the weather and pollen forecasts and decided that it would be a good time to do a bit of exploration of the bit of the old Bickershaw Rucks between Plank Lane and Bickershaw. It's Terra Incognita for me and doesn't involve any trains (the lists of cancellations this week have been horrendous). Rather than taking the bus to Plank Lane I thought I'd have an hour in Pennington Flash to get my eye in, which meant I wasn't hanging round Leigh Bus Station for forty minutes.

Black-headed gull, Pennington Flash

The light showers predicted by the Met Office had become heavy rain by the time I was walking down towards the car park at Pennington Flash. I'll have to get a new flat cap, the Benny hat is too warm for Summer and putting the hood up on my raincoat means I can't hear any bird calls or song over the sound of raindrops hitting the fabric. It abated by the time I got to the car park and I managed a decent potter about.

Pied wagtail, Pennington Flash

There wasn't a lot different from my last visit: there were more lapwing chicks about, the great crested grebes that weren't sitting on nests had good-sized chicks in tow and most of the juvenile black-headed gulls were in flying condition, albeit a bit graceless in their landings. Most of the mallards and gadwalls were well into eclipse plumage now. The lousy weather had brought in a cloud of fifty or more swifts but hirundines were notably absent.

Great crested grebe and chick, Pennington Flash

Heron, Pennington Flash

The reed warblers on the Tom Edmondson Hide were too busy collecting food to be skulking in the reeds. They seem to have found rich pickings in the brambles on the bank, having to break off every so often to chase off the pair from the reeds across the path.

I could only see one of the little ringed plovers and one of the chicks on Ramsdales. There's plenty enough grass cover now for the others to have been out of sight. The car park Cetti's warbler had been singing by the entrance, the usual Cetti's had a brief sing from its brambles and I thought I heard a third doing a practice run in the reeds the other side of Ramsdales.

Little ringed plover, Pennington Flash

Little ringed plover chick, Pennington Flash

I walked up to the canal then followed the path that goes through the more open land towards Plank Lane. The blackcaps and chiffchaffs of the woods by the flash gave way to willow warblers and whitethroats.

Mandarin duck, Plank Lane

As I approached the bridge at Plank Lane a drake mandarin duck flew in to join the mallards on the canal, just a few orange plumes left on his cheeks from his breeding plumage.

I walked through the new housing estate and found the path shown on Google Maps. It's not a route I'll be repeating, if I come this way again I'll come in via Bickershaw Country Park proper. A hundred yards in the path became navigable and mostly veered unsteadily between rough and God-awful most of the way with odd patches of abandoned metalled road.

I didn't go down this path, though it looked like a soft landing after a steep forty foot drop

There was a profusion of vetches and clovers on the grassy patches

Not all the slag had been vegetated yet

The path I did take, apparently this is Shuffle Hillock Road

The terrain was a mixture of lightly wooded scrub, grassland and bare coal slag. Families of great tits and blue tits bounced around the bushes, willow warblers and whitethroats sang and a pair of buzzards soared over the treetops, taking advantage of the warm air over the rises.

The road ended at a scrap metal yard in Bickershaw so I retraced my steps a bit and found the path that curls round to the Northern part of the country park with the entrance by the bus stop on Bickershaw Road.

I think my next visit would be more productive if I got the number 9 bus from Wigan to this stop then took a meandering route round and down to the pools on the country park. 

Southport

Sedge warbler, Marshside

The pollen count was heading high so I headed for the seaside and a wander round Marshside and Crossens.

It was muggy when I arrived at Marshside and the house martins were almost as busy as the house sparrows and starlings in the paddocks by Marshside Road. Not much seemed to have changed since my last visit: a few more Canada goose goslings and the sedge warblers and whitethroats being a bit more vocal.

Bee orchid, Marshside

More of the flowers were open on the bee orchid and most were pointing towards the path which made the photography a lot easier.

At Sandgrounders there were still a few black-headed gulls on nests in the grass and a dozen or more avocets sat on nests about the pools. A few dunlins skittered about, a dozen or so black-tailed godwits dozed in the shallow pools with a curlew sandpiper busily feeding around their legs. There was a distinct lack of plovers other than the lapwings scattered about the marsh. A tiny round brown and white shape sitting on the far waterside looked intriguing until the breeze unfurled what turned out to be a moulted goose feather.

Curlew sandpiper and black-tailed godwit, Marshside

Black-tailed godwits, Marshside

Dunlins, Marshside

A lot of the drakes were already starting to moult into eclipse plumage: the mallards had lost some of the shine from their backs and heads, the gadwalls were taking on bits of a patchwork quilt pattern and the shovelers had almost completely replaced the green heads of their breeding plumage with the steely blues of eclipse. The lesser scaup was still being reported over the bank holiday weekend but I looked in vain for it, all the possibles I caught sight of in the distance on Polly's Pool turned out to be drake tufties beginning to lose the high contrast tones of their breeding plumage.

I wandered down the path towards Crossens. There were plenty more ducks, geese and lapwings on the marsh and pairs of oystercatchers were keeping close company but didn't seem to have any youngsters with them. Every other big patch of brambles and hawthorns had a singing whitethroat, the gaps between them punctuated by sedge warblers.

Oystercatchers, Marshside

All the while I kept scanning Polly's Pool just in case I'd been missing anything. (It has been known for me to have not noticed a spoonbill on here until a passerby asked me what the tall white thing was.) A couple of tufties in a creek coming off the pool caught my eye. I kept half-registering something not quite right about one or other but they were so busy diving I couldn't pin anything down. It took five minutes to realise that one of them had a grey back and even that wasn't obvious most of the time. It was nothing like the close views of the lesser scaup I had last week. Luckily I'd taken a couple of more distant shots that I could use as a reference: close up the grey back really jumps out at you but from a distance it recedes and you notice the black flight feathers a lot more. This is the difficult distant view I'd anticipated last week and I'll admit the identification would have probably defeated me.

The weather cleared up as I walked and it soon became a warm sunny day. It was fairly quiet on this side of Crossens Inner Marsh — all the action seemed to be going on in the pools over by the bund. A few little egrets and a couple of herons lurked by the little creeks and pools. It was even quieter over on Crossens Outer Marsh save the songs of skylarks and meadow pipits and the lowing of grazing cattle.

Heron, Marshside

Painted lady, Crossens Marsh

At last there were butterflies about, mostly large whites. The bright magenta of a cinnabar moth caught my eye and as I watched it moving through a bramble patch a rather faded painted lady flew in and started feeding. It felt odd to bump into one in the context of there being so few butterflies of any kind about.

As I approached the end of the path a couple of common blues fluttered about at ankle height. For once one stayed still long enough for me to get a photo of it.

Common blue, Crossens Marsh

I took a stroll along the bund back into Marshside. Families of mallards, greylags and Canada geese had clusters of youngsters about them and there were a few avocet chicks running about though most of the adults were still sitting on nests.

Mallard and ducklings, Crossens Marsh

Avocet, Crossens Marsh

There weren't the clouds of swifts and hirundines there had been last time I came this way, there were plenty of swallows but just a couple of swifts and most of the house martins were over Marshside.

We'll skip over the hour's delay setting off home because two trains were cancelled at Southport. It had been a good day's birdwatching.

Mute swan, Crossens Marsh

Local patch

Robin, Lostock Park

I know there are plenty of spadgers in the garden by the rustlings in the roses and the disappearance of so much food from the feeders. The early Spring singers are back in full song but the warblers have gone quiet, I don't know if they're busy with broods or just moved on because they haven't attracted mates. I suspect the latter, the warblers in the parks are in full song. 

Juvenile magpie, Lostock Park

I had a late afternoon wander round my local patch to see what was about. The whitethroats were quiet but busy, one of the chiffchaffs was singing in the poplars and we seem to have a third blackcap territory set up near the road bridge where the birch and hazel scrub has thickened up and nearly blocked the old rail line. The alder scrub down this end has thickened a lot in the past couple of months, padded out by brambles and hogweed, which is good news for the dunnocks and wrens here.Blackbird 12

• Blackcap 4
• Bullfinch 1
• Carrion Crow 3
• Chiffchaff 1
• Dunnock 1
• Feral Pigeon 7 overhead
• Goldfinch 15
• Great Tit 1
• Greenfinch 4
• House Sparrow 5
• Lesser Black-backed Gull 4 overhead
• Magpie 9
• Mistle Thrush 1
• Robin 5
• Song Thrush 1
• Starling 2
• Whitethroat 2
• Woodpigeon 13
• Wren 4

White campion, Barton Clough

Mosses

Yellow wagtail, Chat Moss

The first severe hay fever attack of the year, coinciding with an enthralling test match, had kept me at home for a couple of days. The first proper attack of hay fever is always the worst because I'll have had months to forget it's not just the sniffles and the occasional sneeze (it's actually like being hit by a sack of spuds). It's manageable, if distinctly uncomfortable, thereafter so by the tea break of the Third Day I decided I should get some exercise in while the weather's fine. There was a fair breeze to keep the temperature at a nice point for walking and the copious amounts of vaseline I smeared round my nostrils to catch any pollen did the intended trick and I had a good four hours' pottering about on the Salford mosses.

I'd missed the train to Irlam and the bus connections would have me just miss the 100 to Cutnook Lane so I decided to try something new, getting the bus from the Trafford Centre into Eccles and getting the 67 into the Glaze Estate at the far end of Cadishead. A hop over the bridge and I was in Glazebrook walking up the main road  over the motorway to Little Woolden Moss.

Pied wagtail, Little Woolden Moss

Things were looking good even as I approached the entrance road to Little Woolden Hall. A pair of buzzards floated overhead, one harassed by a pair of crows, the other keeping well away. A flock of house martins fed over a field of sheep and a couple of pied wagtails collected food for a brood somewhere nearby.

Buzzard, Little Woolden Moss

Buzzard being mobbed by a kestrel, Little Woolden Moss

The flock of house martins coalesced with a mixed flock of swifts and swallows over the Glaze, the martins favouring the river and the sheep field, the swallows favouring hawking low over a field of barley and the swifts being everywhere. As usual I was tempted to try and take photos of this mayhem and as usual I failed miserably. I was surprised to see a goldcrest fly through the crowd and off towards the trees by the hall.

The crows had flown back to the woods beyond the fields so the buzzard flew back in, flying in low with the sun on its back. It was promptly seen back on its way by a male kestrel. There's obviously a back story to all this but it wasn't evident.

Lapwing and juvenile oystercatcher, Little Woolden Moss

There were a few waders on the western pools of the reserve, mostly pairs of lapwings with a couple of pairs of oystercatchers, all with youngsters. The oystercatcher chicks were half-grown already but still not above taking earthworms off their parents. There had been reports of a sanderling on here earlier in the week, if it was still about I couldn't find it even though I spent a good two minutes trying to turn a redshank into one.

Goldfinches and long-tailed tits bounced around in the birch scrub and there were a couple of dozen or more willow warblers singing and foraging in the bushes. They paid no heed to me save to call if I accidentally got within six feet of them then carry on with their business.

An unco-operative willow warbler, Little Woolden Moss
The pale legs are a useful ID feature: chiffchaffs have very dark, almost black legs

I stopped for a chat with a lady walking her dogs who wanted to know what the white fluffy flowers were. The open ground was a sea of white with the last of the hare's tail cotton grass still in flower, the cotton grass proper in full bloom and any open spaces littered with seed heads of the hare's tails.

Hare's tail cotton grass (left) and cotton grass, Little Woolden Moss
Hare's tail cotton grass flowers about a month earlier of the two.

There were meadow pipits everywhere, which was a nice contrast to my last visit. Conversely there wasn't a lot of wildfowl, just a pair of gadwalls and a couple of pairs of mallards. There weren't any wagtails on the pools either and it was evidently too late in the day and too cool for dragonflies. A few black-headed gulls loafed on the banks and both reed buntings and linnets skittered about in ones and twos.

I met a lady who'd just been to Risley Moss to see hobbies and had been told Little Woolden Moss was an excellent place to get a good view of them. I agreed, though I said she'd get better luck midday when there'd be dragonflies about for a hobby to feed on. Still, you never know so I wished her luck and carried on on my way.

I walked round the path to Mosslands Farm. There'd be no point carrying on into Glazebury because I'd have two hours to wait for the next bus, I just wanted to see if I could find any yellow wagtails on the usual fields and I was sort of hoping for a quail singing in the barley but had no luck with either. I was consoled by the sight of the female marsh harrier floating over the field with the wind turbine.

I'd warned that lady there wasn't much chance of a hobby here this time of day and I was dead wrong. I hadn't gone far retracing my steps along the path when one whizzed overhead almost within arm's reach, towered over the peat moss then dived and shot through and over the trees towards Astley Road. I dearly hoped she'd seen it. I bumped into her later on and we couldn't be sure if the bird she'd filmed chasing a lapwing was the hobby or not. I definitely couldn't say it wasn't and she went home enthused enough to come back another day.

Hobby, Little Woolden Moss

Hobby, Little Woolden Moss

I walked down Twelve Yards Road through Chat Moss. The fields were full of lapwings, woodpigeons and starlings with a supporting cast of mallards, stock doves and pheasants. The trees and bushes were filled with the sounds of singing blackbirds, robins, wrens and warblers — whitethroats in the thin hawthorn hedges by the road and blackcaps in the copses by the farmyards, willow warblers to the North in the birch woods, chiffchaffs to the South in the poplars by the horse paddocks. Chaffinches sang in the treetops, reed buntings in the hedges by the field drains and yellowhammers in the hawthorns on the field boundaries. It was all a bit full-on really. A flock of swallows hawked low over the fields and were joined by half a dozen sand martins. A kestrel hovered high over the field by one of the farmyards. Approaching the junction with Cutnook Lane there was a small flock of Canada geese with half a dozen goslings in tow in one of the fields. As I was watching them a flash of yellow caught my eye and a yellow wagtail flew up onto the telegraph wires and started singing.

It was a straight walk down Cutnook Lane with blackbirds and chiffchaffs singing in the trees, a buzzard lumbering about in the birch scrub and a family of long-tailed tits bouncing through the hedgerows as I walked along.

I had ten minutes to wait for the 100 back to the Trafford Centre, struck lucky for the connection with the bus home and got back to find the cat sitting on the front doorstep asking what did I call this for getting back for teatime.

The late afternoon and evening walks across Chat Moss always seem to be very productive.

Cotton grass, Little Woolden Moss

Pennington Flash

Juvenile little ringed plover

I didn't fancy starting the month with yet more train cancellations so I had a couple of hours' wander round Pennington Flash. A decidedly wet lunchtime gave way to sunshine and by the time I was going home I felt distinctly overdressed.

Pennington Flash

Walking in from St Helens Road was almost like being back in Spring: robins, blackbirds, song thrushes, great tits, chaffinches, blackcaps, all singing in full voice. This was pretty much a feature of the afternoon, with chiffchaffs, willow, reed and sedge warblers joining the chorus as I wandered round. The usual Cetti's warbler was quiet but the one by the Horrocks Hide was in full song.

There wasn't a lot out on the flash itself, just a few lesser black-backs, mallards and great crested grebes and a lone common tern sat on one of the buoys. I was struck by the complete absence of swifts and hirundines. The Canada geese, mute swans and a lot of the mallards were on the car park demanding food with menaces. It's a month early for the Egyptian geese to be about but that didn't stop me looking for them.

Juvenile pied wagtail

The Horrocks Hide was full of kids being kids. Mallards and coots loafed on the shingle on the spit while woodpigeons, lapwings and pied wagtails fed on the grassy bits. The absence of cormorants and herring gulls at the end of the spit was striking.

Heron

It was stonkingly quiet at the Tom Edmondson Hide, just a couple of coots and a heron. It came as a relief when a couple of woodpigeons clattered in to provide a bit if variety.

At first sight Ramsdales looked quiet, too, with just a family of mallards and a pair of loafing gadwalls. Then I noticed that there was a little ringed plover on the bank of one of the islands. And a littler little ringed plover. And another. The pair of plovers had three youngsters in tow. These were very active and old enough to be able to flap their wings enough to get themselves off the ground for a couple of seconds from a running jump.

Juvenile little ringed plover

The Bunting Hide was quiet save a dozen stock doves and a dozen squirrels, which might explain why it was quiet. A family of long-tailed tits bounced around the trees by the path while a couple of moorhens squabbled in the undergrowth. By the time I got to the Teal Hide it was locked up.

Stock dove

I hadn't expected much, just a gentle potter about, but I noticed forty-odd species of birds kicking about while I was wandering round.

I stopped on the bridge to admire a pike a couple had spotted lurking in the brook. I've seen them a few times here, including one a couple of feet long, I don't know why it's such a favoured place.

As usual the bus home was pulling out as the bus I was on pulled into the Trafford Centre so I got the 250 into Trafford Park and walked home through Lostock Park. The blackcap and the chiffchaff were almost drowned out by singing blackbirds and robins. A couple of dozen starlings were feeding with the usual thirty or forty woodpigeons on the school playing field as I got home.

The pool opposite the Tom Edmondson Hide