Sefton coast

Black-tailed godwit, Marshside

After a week's bad sleep I had eyes like peepholes in the snow but I decided to get out for a walk on the argument that staying at home trying to get a nap hadn't been conspicuously successful yesterday either. I've not been to Marshside for too long and the announcement that the Arriva bus strike was over gave me the necessary prod.

Unusually, the trains behaved impeccably to schedule. They were, however, phenomenally busy with people like me catching up with their travel plans. I made the mistake of catching the Barrow train to Wigan, the effects of Avanti cutting the number of trains to Manchester drive passengers onto this train to get to Wigan Northwestern, Preston and beyond on the West Coast Mainline so it's standing room only, and packed at that. By the time I arrived at Southport it felt like somebody had been sandpapering my nervous system.

Greylags, Marshside

I got the 44 bus to Marshside and toddled down Marshside Road. The fields either side were bone dry and most of the drains and the Junction Pool just cracked mud. Canada geese and greylags grazed and loafed in the long grass, an intimation of Autumn that prompted me to scan round hard for any stragglers or interlopers just in case. A female kestrel hovered over what was Junction Pool and a female sparrowhawk perched on one of the fenceposts by the junction with Marine Drive.  Further out the starlings flocked over by the feeding cattle and woodpigeons foraged in the short grass, and that was pretty much it from the roadside. 

Canada geese, black-headed gulls, black-tailed godwits, lapwings and a greenshank, Marshside

Bathing ruff and lapwings, Marshside

The pools by Sandgrounders were busy with Canada geese, lapwings and black-tailed godwits with a supporting cast of black-headed gulls, mallards and teals. A handful each of ruffs and redshanks wandered in and out between the godwits though it was the lone greenshank feeding with the geese that I spotted first. The tufted duck family couldn't be seen though there were a few males bobbing around on the pool by the gate.

The adult godwits were mostly still in their breeding finery and were accompanied by good numbers of full-grown juveniles with their more scaly backs and wings. The little egrets and herons were a bit listless, mostly loafing about in small groups dotted about the marsh.

Spoonbills have been drifting over every so often from the Ribble Estuary but they didn't make an appearance today. (This year's bogey birds appear to be wood sandpiper, spoonbill, white wagtail and ruddy shelduck. I hope that by writing that down I'll bump into them all next week.)

Black-tailed godwits, Marshside

Little egrets, Marshside

Juvenile heron, Marshside

Little egret, Marshside

I wandered over to Crossens Marsh. There was enough sun to make it a bright, dry day and more than enough wind to stop it getting too warm. It was too windy for butterflies: a few large white and meadow browns kept low over the path and an apparent mass-hatching of red admirals littered the bramble patches. I took the opportunity to pilfer a few dewberries from the sides of the paths where over-eager strimmers hadn't reached.

Dewberries, Marshside 

There were more godwits and black-headed gulls on Polly's Pool and yet more godwits were with the mallards, teal and dabchicks in the drains and gulleys. A family of shovelers were hard work to identify, keeping their heads mostly underwater and their backs to the road. Oddly, I couldn't see any gadwalls

The wind made it hard to hear any small bird noises in the wayside bushes. A wren churred at me and a few linnets and goldfinches twitted past between hawthorns. Over on the outer marshes I looked in vain for meadow pipits or skylark, there were just a few gulls flying over and the occasional little egret. There have been daily reports of a ringtail hen harrier but the only bird of prey I could see was a kestrel hovering over the border fence on Crossens Outer.

Hen harrier, Crossens Outer Marsh

Crossens Inner Marsh was bone dry with the only water, and not much of it at that, in the main drain by the roadside path. Aside from the half a dozen mallards in the drain and the hundred or so black-headed gulls loafing on the cracked mud over by the bund there wasn't a right lot about. I kept scanning the outer marsh to see if there was anything about and was rewarded by about a minutes' worth of the hen harrier floating like a bubble low over the long grass in the distance before going to ground and apparently staying down because I didn't see it again.

Walking along Marine Drive by Crossens Inner Marsh 

I crossed over to have a look at the small pools by the wildfowlers' pull-in. There was enough water to keep a few dozen teals and lapwings happy and they weren't much up for budging for any cattle that came up for a drink.

By the time I got to the 49 bus stop at Crossens I felt like I'd had a long walk, which shows how little exercise I've been taking this week. It was still only late afternoon so I decided to stay on the bus to Ainsdale and get the train to Hightown and thence toddle down to the Alt Estuary to try and improve this month's tally of waders. (The Area D Saveaway I'd bought is good for trains and buses between Hightown and the border between Crossens and Banks.)

Sandwich terns, Hightown Dunes

I wandered down from the station to Hightown Dunes and settled myself by the sailing clubhouse to watch the incoming tide. All I could hear was the wind blowing in from the sea and the creaking calls of Sandwich terns. It took a while to find the terns, a hundred or more were roosting beyond the boats over by the the danger zone (this is the area within shooting range of Altcar Training Camp). As the tide rose more terns drifted over, while others left the roost to go out fishing. Rather despite myself I scanned round just in case any of the terns had a yellow bill and in the process found a couple of passing common terns.

Ringed plovers, Hightown Dunes

There was a confusion of waders out on the mud. The area between the sailing club and the river looked deserted at first sight. It was worth a closer look: a couple of dozen ringed plovers were lurking, mostly loafing and preening. A few juvenile pied wagtails skittered about and a meadow pipit made a brief appearance. A few mallards drifted about in the river while redshanks and dunlins fed by the banks more ringed plovers pottered about on the far side like clockwork mice.

The light was harsh, casting nearly all the waders into silhouette and making it surprisingly difficult to keep a sense of scale. Every so often I'd start to get interested in a particularly small wader only for it to run a few yards and become just another dunlin in a crowd. A grey plover sitting on its own in the shadow of a mud bank took me longer to identify than it should have.  I even struggled to be sure that the mass of dark shapes in the mid distance were oystercatchers until the rising waters made them start to fidget. A cloud of knots finally giving up a mud bank against the tide came as a bit of a relief.

Incoming tide, Hightown Dunes 

I lingered a while at high tide, trying to see if anything else might turn up, before setting off back to the station and thence back to Southport and home. The side excursion had done me good. It was an uneventful journey home though later than planned so it was a chippy tea for me and a tin of tuna and mackerel for the cat.

Hollingworth Lake

Fox (and rat), Shaw Moss

I'd had a long lunch with a friend in Rochdale, spotting one of the peregrines on the town hall on the way in and a grey wagtail fossicking about with the mallards and farmyard geese on the river walking over to the bus station on the way back.

I checked the buses and decided to get the 458 to have an afternoon's wander round Hollingworth Lake while the weather was looking surprisingly fine.

Hollingworth Lake 

Unsurprisingly the water was very low. I harboured a hope that all that fresh foreshore might have attracted a sandpiper or two but the only waders were the usual crowd of lapwings over on the Rakewood Road end of the lake. There were plenty of mallards about: fifty or so of them were with the Canada geese and mute swans over by the car park, the rest were in groups in the corners, about sixty congregating in the little bay by Queen's Walk and a couple of dozen over by the hide. Quite a few of the drakes were already coming out of eclipse plumage. Try as I might I couldn't turn any of the gulls into anything that weren't black-headed gulls or lesser black-backs.

The trees around the lake were filled with the rustlings of small birds, nearly all of which turned out to be great tits, robins or blackbirds. A couple of chaffinches and dunnocks added variety and a few odd squeaks remained unidentifiable.

Robin, Hollingworth Lake

I took half an hour's diversion up the path that heads towards Shaw Moss. Clouds of swallows twittered overhead while singletons of sand martin and house martin steamed by. The hawthorns on the rise were thick with goldfinches and greenfinches, nearly always obscured by leaves. Every so often they'd rise up, flit over to a fresh clump of trees and disappear again. Wrens and blackbirds were heard but not seen. There was something else deep in the undergrowth but I couldn't place the call and it could well have been another great tit.

Rabbit, Shaw Moss

Woodpigeons shared the field by the path with a family of rabbits. On the other side of the path a fox concluded a successful bit of ratting by one of the farm buildings.

Looking towards Shaw Moss from Hollingworth Lake 

I returned to Hollingworth Lake and bought myself an ice cream just as the sky darkened and the wind started to blow a hooley. By the time I reached the hide it was pouring down, which didn't bother the gulls and lapwings any and just set the mallards a-muttering in the grass. There were a handful of herring gulls amongst the gulls and just the one common gull.

Black-headed gulls and lesser black-backs, Hollingworth Lake

I walked down Rakewood Road in the teeming rain, enjoying the novelty, and got to the bus stop with five minutes to spare for the bus to Littleborough. (Had it not been pouring I'd have walked down to the station.) I had ten minutes to wait for the train back to Manchester, during which time slightly over a hundred jackdaws flew in noisy dribs and drabs out of town to their roosts by Brearley Brook.

Hollingworth Lake from Rakewood Road 

Bickershaw

Bickershaw Country Park 

I was desperate to get a walk done now the weather isn't ridiculously hot. The morning's train cancellations didn't bode well and the weather forecast was offering thunderstorms. So it was probably as well that the train I went for got cancelled so I didn't go for the planned wander over the Horwich Moors. I got the bus and headed over to Leigh for a walk round Bickershaw Country Park where, if the weather got nasty, I could scuttle off for the number 8 bus to Wigan or back to Leigh.

It was overcast and muggy when I left home, by the time I got to Leigh it was pouring down so I got the bus as far as Firs Park so I didn't get too wet. (Note to self: for God's sake buy a new flat cap!) The Canada geese and mallards were milling about on the grass in Firs Park while the black-headed gulls divided themselves between the nearby rooftops and the lake.

I nipped down the footpath on Hulme Walk and headed off for what turned out to be a couple of hours' aimless meandering. I still haven't got my head round the geography of this country park so I just followed a few paths round to see where they go. In the end I did a very rough circuit round and emerged at the top of Wigan Road, by which time the rain had eased off to occasional showers.

Bickershaw Country Park 

It was August quiet in the country park. A chiffchaff called in the trees by the houses and willow warblers called from the trees around the lake by the car park. A couple of whitethroats churred from the undergrowth by the tarmacked paths and a party of sedge warblers bounced around the reedmace in a dried-up pool. There was a steady traffic of woodpigeons, black-headed gulls and lesser black-backs and a pheasant called by the field on the Northern margin.

And that was pretty much that, really. Still, I'd had a bit of exercise. I got the bus to Wigan, thinking I could get the train home. Which is why I walked over to the bus station and got the 635 to Appley Bridge. Not on purpose: the bus' number board wasn't working and the station departure board said it was the number 7 to Bolton. Anyway, it was a pleasant ride and I was in plenty of time for catching the train to Manchester in between the ones that had been cancelled.

Scorchio

A couple of the lads

I'm not designed for this weather: I'm more for pretending it's not cold than pretending it's not hot. Which is why, aside from essential shopping forays, I've been hiding inside and drinking industrial units of tea. 

Despite the Summer's heat the signs of Autumn are all around. The swifts disappeared on the turn of the month: a handful were feeding high on the 31st July and there were none on 1st August. I doubt they had a good year, there was at least one youngster but I don't think there were many more. The rowan tree is chock full of berries this year. The blackbirds gave it an early hammering but have left it alone the past couple of weeks, leaving it to the woodpigeons and carrion crows to come in for a quick appetiser before heading off for their main meals. The young magpies have sort of taken ownership of the tree but don't appear to have any idea what to do with it. The black-headed gull flocks on the school playing fields are slowly building up on all but the warmest evenings, usually accompanied by a couple of lesser black-backs or herring gulls. The first common gull arrived the other day, definitely a sign that the season's turning.

The spadgers are giving the feeders a hammering, aided and abetted by blue tits, coal tits, great tits and a juvenile robin. The coal tits are coming in one at a time and very quietly, it's a matter of luck getting to see one in the garden. One was calling a few streets away the other day when I was doing an errand for my dad. Adult robins, dunnocks, and now even the wrens are in stealth mode.

The woodpigeons and collared doves have finished their moults and are paired up and singing ready for what I think will be their second broods. I suspect a couple of pairs of jackdaws down the road are similarly inclined though how they'd stop either eggs or chicks baking in a brick chimney top I don't know.

---

There was a post in one of the Facebook groups the other day asking for advice for how to get from Manchester to Bempton Cliffs. All the responses were variations of "Can't be done," so I explained how I did it last month. I didn't get any reply but it got me thinking: all the people who'd responded lived in Yorkshire and so had never needed to try and all seemed to think that any journey more than two hours by car (which seemed to be the standard unit of measure) was impossible on public transport by default.

One thing I have learned when planning an unfamiliar journey is that just going by the result when you enter the start point and destination on Google Maps or one of the train sites doesn't always give you the best answer (and the latter definitely doesn't always give you the best price!) There are lots of times where going via an alternative route is easier and/or cheaper. For instance I've learnt to always check if there's a way to a Yorkshire location via Sheffield rather than Leeds because often it's cheaper to do a split ticket via Sheffield, there's generally less than ten minutes' difference in the travelling time and Leeds Station is a nightmare. If you're using Google Maps as a planning tool and it tells you the location's impossible by public transport, find the nearest station or bus stop and find how far it would take to walk and it's a reasonable distance find out then how to get to that station/bus stop by public transport. For some reason Google Maps thinks that if it's more than a mile or so to walk the last bit then the whole journey's impossible. It's also inconsistent about it: check once and you'll be given directions including the walk, check later to confirm it and the same journey with the same start time and place will be deemed impossible. It helps to be a bit bloody-minded about making your plans.

Of course, some journeys really are impossible. I wargamed the journey to Cambridgeshire to see if it was possible to go for the Cape gull that was there last week. Google Maps told me a few times that it was impossible but after fiddling round with start times and places I got quite a few options, none of which were feasible unless I fancied dossing down in St Neot's Station for the night. Which I didn't.

All in all, I'm a very idle sort of birdwatcher quite happy to just potter about and leave the twitches to the more energetic people.

Pennington Flash

Lapwing

I had a teatime stroll round Pennington Flash, the idea being to get some exercise in the relatively cooler hours before the heatwave kicks in in the latter part of the week. While it was distinctly cooler than at lunchtime it was still warm and I was glad of the long shadows to hide in.

The walk in from St. Helens Road was exceptionally quiet, had a wren not flown across the path I'd have seen nothing. There was a delightful counter to the idiot cyclist of the other day: the first I heard of the family of young cyclists coming up behind me was a tiny voice shouting from fifty yards away: "Ring! Ring! My bell's broken!"

Juvenile lesser black-back

The flash was busy with canoeists and people and dogs splashing round the edges. About a hundred mallards — including a duck with young ducklings — and a similar number of coots congregated at the car park, the Canada geese and black-headed gulls on the spit at Horrocks Hide and a pair of mute swans with their cygnets cruises the water margins hissing at passersby. A diffuse raft of fifty-odd lesser black-backs and a few herring gulls blithely ignored the canoeists. A rather tatty young lesser black-back was trying to make a living pinching food off the ducks in the car park.

Pennington Flash 

The hides were still open despite its being teatime. There were a lot of lapwings with the mallards, coots and Canada geese on the spit. A hundred or so black-headed gulls loafed in the channel at the end of the spit with a few herring gulls and a couple of cormorants.

The walk to the Tom Edmondson Hide was eerily quiet save the calls of a couple of chiffchaffs and some coots on Pengy's pool. It was by pure dumb luck I spotted a reed warbler silently hunting in the reeds.

Pennington Flash 

The selection of ducks at the Tom Edmondson Hide highlighted why this time of year is hard work. Eclipse plumages are tricky enough, add to that a variety of sizes of young ducks with not quite full-grown juvenile mallards having a very gadwall-like look to them. Of course you can always rely on the white and brown speculum on the wings of the gadwalls as an identification feature. Except for the week or so when those feathers have moulted and the new ones aren't showing through yet. The differences in bill shape and colour between a gadwall and a young mallard are subtle and not always wholly convincing.

There were a few teal with the moorhens and lapwings at Ramsdales. The only great crested grebe of the day was cruising around the raft of a dozen tufted ducks in the bight.  

Walking back to St. Helens Road 

After nearly a couple of hours of wandering about I called it quits and headed for the bus on St. Helens Road. The walk back would have been as quiet as the walk in but for a very noisy juvenile sparrowhawk in the treetops.

Martin Mere

Cattle egret and carrion crow

I had more luck with yesterday's planned walk today. The trains were busy but punctual so I got to New Lane without any hassle. It was a relentlessly sunny day so I headed straight for Martin Mere via Marsh Moss Lane where there was occasional shade from wayside trees.

Bullace (wild damson)

The trees and bushes along the path from Marsh Moss Lane were busy with invisible birds. A couple of robins sang, great tits and blue tits called as they bounced around in the branches and blackbirds heaved leaves around in the undergrowth. Most of the movement catching my eye was butterflies: there were a lot of large whites about for no apparent reason and speckled woods were kept busy chasing them and any passing meadow browns out of their territories.

Common hawker

The mere was busy, mostly with black-headed gulls, cormorants and lapwings. A few herons lurked on the far shore and coots and moorhens fussed about by the Discovery Hide. The raft of juvenile shelducks and the solitary adult were still about and mallards loafed on the islands. The absence of any waders other than lapwings was striking. There hadn't been any geese about either but that was soon rectified as a couple of dozen greylags flew in noisily and a dozen Canada geese flew in relatively quietly. 

I don't know why this cormorant was so taken with this stick

Black-headed gulls

The gulls were all in post-breeding flocks, a couple of common terns were still feeding full-sized juveniles. High overhead a soaring buzzard got too close to a soaring sparrowhawk which took a few swipes at it before flying off.

Cattle egret and carrion crows

A cattle egret had been reported as being with the Longhorn cattle feeding on the meadow in front of the Gladstone Hide. I've had no luck with cattle egrets this year so I had a wander over to see if I could find it. The grass was as high as a Longhorn cow's eye so I didn't think I'd have much chance of seeing the egret and after a few scans round I hadn't had any joy. Then I glanced over to the fence by the drain. A nice adult cattle egret enjoying the company of a couple of carrion crows.

A wander down to the Ron Barker Hide was a nice walk. Nearly everything that moved was a bee, a butterfly or a dragonfly so it was nice to see a couple of juvenile robins by the wayside. There were lots of mallards and lapwings on the marsh in front of the hide. A few greylags, moorhens and gadwall loafed on the bank of the drain and a pair of whooper swans slept by the far gate. A marsh harrier perched in a distant tree was the only one of the day. Further out a couple of kestrels were hovering over a field looking to catch anything escaping from a combine harvester.

Yellow wagtails, Curlew Lane

I walked to Burscough Bridge for the train accompanied by flocks of swallows and house martins most of the way. The rabbits were out in force again in the donkey's field at Brandeth Barn but there was no sign of the flock of collared doves. At the junction with Curlew Lane a couple of yellow wagtails flew over the field, which was nice as they've seemed very thin on the ground here this year. As they flew left a corn bunting flew right and over towards the paddocks on Crabtree Lane. As I walked past the barn a movement caught my eye, four juvenile yellow wagtails were fussing about on the roof.

The rest of the way down Red Cat Lane was pretty quiet as the barley was being harvested. I got to the station with ten minutes to spare and for once the trains behaved impeccably all the way home.

Elton Reservoir

Juvenile goldfinch, Withins Lane

The plan was to have an afternoon out at Martin Mere the plan was. The train services being as the train services are I had a trip out to Elton Reservoir.

The day had started pretty well, with the first coal tit of Autumn joining the crowd of house sparrows on the bird feeders in the back garden.

I'll skip over my attempts to connect with the Southport train to get to Martin Mere, it was wearisome at the time and more so with the retelling. So I went to Elton Reservoir.

Elton Reservoir 

Despite the long, dry weather the water was well higher than it had been on my last visit. Canada geese and mallards loafed about the edges, a couple of large rafts of coots bathed and quarrelled with each other. A few lesser black-backs jockeyed for positions on buoys while black-headed gulls bathed in the deep end. A small duck in midwater puzzled me a while, it was only when I moved round to near the creek that I could confirm it as an eclipse male teal. Half a dozen great crested grebes dotted about took a bit of finding. 

A small flock of sand martins hawked low over the water at the sailing club end, joined by a couple of swallows. A few more swallows and half a dozen house martins were at the Withins end.

Purple loosestrife, Elton Reservoir

There were no waders about, a morning full of dog walkers and runners had probably put any up. A couple of walkers made a point of walking along the shore line to the wader point and getting a bit to close to a family of mute swans.

There were small birds aplenty but they were hard work to connect with, except the noisy families of willow warblers hopping about in the willows by the creek. It felt odd not to see or hear a single blackcap or whitethroat, all the robins were in ninja mood betrayed only the the occasional calls of youngsters.

I had a narrow squeak on one of the blind bends on the path leading away from the creek with a cyclist who thought he was on the velodrome rather than a two foot wide dirt footpath. I expressed my appreciation of his art. It's not as if he was a kid, he was my age if a day and had helmet and goggles and pads on his elbows and knees to keep him safer than any walker he happened to hurtle past. I have a downer on cyclists and it's because of the likes of him and a similar article who scythed through a family group on Stretford Meadows the other day as the father was making sure the youngest child hadn't hurt herself falling off her bike. It's entirely unfair: for every one of these arseholes there's a hundred entirely polite and considerate cyclists but it's the ones that nearly hit you that colour your memory.

A few more coots, mallards and Canada geese loafed about the shallow end of the reservoir over near Withins together with a small raft of tufted ducks.

Radcliffe from Elton Reservoir 

There was a lot of meadow browns and large whites in the grass by the path, and speckled woods aplenty feeding on blackberries in the hedgerows. Common hawkers patrolled the creek while brown hawkers whizzed around the reeds and willows by the reservoir edges.

There was almost nothing on Withins Reservoir, just a heron and a couple of moorhens. There was more happening in the bushes along the feeder stream. A family of willow warblers fossicked away in a pile of willow prunings just an arm's length from me, giving me the opportunity to add to my portfolio of "there was a warbler there a moment ago" photos. I had more luck when they moved into the willows and joined a mixed tit flock — blue tits and long-tailed tits — and a noisy charm of goldfinches. A juvenile blackcap was an unexpected and accidental bonus.

Willow warbler, Withins Reservoir

The common hawkers patrolling the hedgerows were joined by common darters along the feeder stream. 

Another charm of goldfinches, mostly juveniles, fed on the patch of thistles by the farmyard on Withins Lane. The hay in the fields between the farmhouses and the canal was being cut and turned, much to the delight of a flock of jackdaws. A couple of brown hawkers patrolled the hay fields.

Hay-making

There wasn't much doing on the canal and I'd had had a good couple of hours' pottering about so I walked into Radcliffe for the bus. I got the 513 into Farnworth to get the 22 to the Trafford Centre, saving me going into the city centre in the rush hour and only ten minutes longer to get home.