Amberswood

Amberswood Lake

The weather forecast promised the rain would only be light this afternoon so I got the 132 from the Trafford Centre for a walk around Amberswood.

Walmersley Park 

I got off at the stop after Amberswood for a short detour. I keep going by Walmersley Park, on the other side of the railway, I thought I should have a quick nosy at it. There isn't a great deal of it and from a birdwatcher's perspective the most interesting part is the wooded pool in the corner between the railway line and the play area. A moorhen fidgeted about the reeds while a mixed tit flock including at least one goldcrest bounced about in the birch trees by the path.

Walmersley Park 

I'd congratulated myself on keeping my boots dry. I'd celebrated too soon: I took a short cut across the mown grass past the play area to the road, three steps along the grass parted and I was up to my shins in muddy water.

Amberswood 

I walked down to Amberswood and started strolling along the shared cycleway as the clouds rolled in and an almost twilit gloom descended even though it was an hour and a half before sunset. The hedgerows either side were busy with small birds: a couple of mixed tit flocks bounced by, one including goldcrests the other coal tits; goldfinches twittered in the treetops and there were rather a lot of blackbirds. Woodpigeons had been thin on the ground on the way over, there were plenty enough of them in the trees here.

Amberswood Lake 

The sun came out and it started pouring down. This wasn't so bad in the shelter of the trees, it was a bit grim out in the open as I walked by the lake. A raft of a dozen tufted ducks dozed and preened in the middle of the lake. I tried my best to turn them into scaups or ring-necked ducks but they were all tufties. A couple of black-headed gulls flew in but didn't settle, a few mallards flew in and went straight into the reeds. The juvenile great crested grebes shone bright white in this strange light. As I trudged away a Cetti's warbler started singing in the reeds by the path.

Low Hall 

It was nudging sunset when I headed over to Low Hall. A mute swan browsed the edge of the pond while a heron lurked in the reeds. Robins and wrens sang in the undergrowth while half a dozen blackbirds and a song thrush flew into the trees to roost.

Instead of walking into Platt Bridge for a bus to Wigan or Leigh I walked up Liverpool Road into Hindley for the 132 back to the Trafford Centre. I'll have to remember to get off at Hindley in future, the walk to Low Hall would be better at the beginning of a walk rather than the end and the other end of Amberswood is dead handy for the buses.

Local patch

Lostock Park
This track's a relic of Old Hall Road which used to carry on to Trafford Hall back when Trafford Park was farms and parkland estate.

It was one of those mornings where you had the option of damp gloom or sunny showers and the one followed the other at hourly intervals. The spadgers set up camp in the back garden again, I'm going to have to start getting fresh supplies in on a weekly basis again. The usual pair of great tits were joined by a couple more birds and today's coal tit was a local female with an olive green wash to her back and the straw yellow starting to show on her flanks. I've mentioned before the non-linear nature of the pecking order out there, it was amusing to see three great tits waiting their turn in a rose bush while the coal tit was pecking house sparrows out of the way on the sunflower feeder by the washhouse.

I had half an hour's lunchtime wander round the park, which proved to be the most productive I've had here for months. It came as a relief to bump into a proper mixed tit flock bouncing its way through the cherry trees by the bowling green.

• Black-headed gull 1
• Blackbird 2
• Blue tit 4
• Carrion crow 3
• Chaffinch 1
• Common gull 1
• Goldfinch 2
• Great tit 5
• Long-tailed tit 10
• Magpie 9
• Mistle thrush 1
• Robin 2
• Starling 1
• Woodpigeon 1
• Wren 1

Merseyside bumper bundle

Great Northern diver, West Kirby
I have a dream of some day getting a photo of a great Northern diver that doesn't look like somebody's traced the outlines with a chinagraph pencil.

It was a surprisingly mild and pleasant start to the day and I had a yen to go to the seaside so I got the Liverpool train and arrived at West Kirby at lunchtime. The weather had clouded over a bit and the wind was strong but it was pleasant walking weather. 

There had been reports of a juvenile great Northern diver on the marine lake so I was keeping an eye out for that and hoping it hadn't been scared off by the windsurfing class that was taking place. The black-headed gulls and cormorant on the jetty weren't much fussed, nor even the redshank feeding by the landing stage so that boded well. It was lowish tide so there weren't any other waders about the lake.

West Kirby Marine Lake 

I walked along the prom, looking over the lake every so often to make sure I wasn't missing the diver. A passing little old lady stopped and said: "It's halfway down, love." I thanked her, and I thanked the young couple a few minutes later who stopped and said: "They're just a bit further along." "They" turned out to be a couple of birdwatchers looking at the diver. I had a scan round. I couldn't see the diver but there was a female common scoter bobbing on the water ridiculously close by.

Common scoter, West Kirby

Common scoter, West Kirby

The diver spent more time underwater than above but when it was up it showed splendidly well.

Great Northern diver, West Kirby

I'd promised myself I'd keep my feet dry today so I wasn't sure about taking a turn around the lake (I was in second-best boots with the split in the uppers near the laces because best boots are still drying out after getting filled during Saturday's sloshing about.) North Wales was copping for some filthy weather and the wind seemed to be blowing it out way and that decided the matter. I kept to the pavements. I looked down the estuary from the boatyard. The mud was littered with shelducks and oystercatchers and I could make out a few redshanks and curlews. The wind blew the filthy weather up the estuary and we got away with a handful of raindrops.

Great Northern diver, West Kirby

I walked back and helped a couple of people connect with the diver and was rewarded by its swimming in even closer for a minute or so before heading back underwater.

Great Northern diver, West Kirby
Sometimes conditions were challenging for photography.

The tide was too low to be able to see any waders or geese out in the mouth of the estuary, there were just a couple of groups of loafing herring gulls and some common gulls.

Shelducks, Hoylake

The day was young so I bobbed over to Manor Road and had a wander down Meols Promenade to see if any waders were about. As I arrived at the prom the next band of filthy weather swept in and caught me. I kept the wind to my back so my cap was peppered with hailstones not my face. A couple of hundred shelduck were browsing the mud. Here and there there'd be small groups of redshanks and/or dunlins, never more than half a dozen in any one place. I counted an even dozen grey plovers, the couple of ringed plovers were hard work, and the linnets, meadow pipits and pied wagtails were keeping in the cover of the tussocks of grass. Further out there were a few curlews and pale grey lines of knots chased the waterline with a small group of very bright white sanderlings.

Hoylake beach 

I'd broken my promise to keep my feet dry so I decided enough was enough and walked into Meols for the train. I noticed a report of a green-winged teal at Marshside, it was still early afternoon, I headed for Southport.

At Southport I got the 44 as far as Hesketh Road and walked down to the viewing platform where the green-winged teal had been reported. The weather was decidedly changeable, blowing fair and foul at three minute intervals, and I wondered if this was wise. From the platform I could see dozens of wigeon and a few shovelers and gadwall close by on the pool with a pair of mute swans. Further away there were more wigeons with a lot of teal, pintails and lapwings. Scanning through I found a few ruffs and redshanks amongst this crowd but no green-winged teal. 

Lapwings, wigeon, shovelers, teal, herring gulls and black-headed gulls, Marshside

My heart sank a bit: was it amongst the crowd of ducks yet further out? I had a colossal stroke of luck. A lady had pulled up on her bike, set up a telescope and asked: "Excuse me, is this a green-winged teal?" There'd been a bit of shuffling round in the group of ducks and waders I'd first looked at. There in the centre of the field of view was a drake teal with a broad vertical white stripe at the side of its breast. I was pleased to be able to say yes it was. Now I knew where it was I could just pick it out with my binoculars, the white stripe being surprisingly conspicuous once I knew where I was looking. A colossal stroke of luck.

Pintails, Marshside

I looked at the weather and decided to head for the bus back into Southport. The quickest way was to walk over the bund across the golf course to Marshside Road, which also gave me the chance to check out what was about on the marsh besides hundreds of wigeon, teal and lapwings. A few little egrets flew in with a big flock of black-tailed godwits which was followed by an only very slightly smaller flock of black-headed gulls. There must have been nearly a hundred pintails, and a couple of dozen shovelers. 

Pink-footed geese, Marshside

Stanley High School's playing field was wall-to-wall pink-footed geese with pied wagtails tiptoeing between them.

Marshside sunset

I had ten minutes to wait for the 44 bus, watching flocks of wigeon, curlews and black-headed gulls coming into the marsh to roost. The weather may have been a tad suboptimal but it had been an excellent day's birdwatching, one of those days where birdwatchers help each other out and get rewarded in return. Which is always a good thing.

Wellacre Country Park

Coal tit, Stretford

It was a real November day, damp and cold to the bone whatever the thermometer was saying. The spadgers and titmice set up camp in the back garden and weren't having any nonsense from magpies, squirrels or passing cats (the cat I live with showed uncharacteristic common sense and stayed inside all day). 

I'm beginning to wonder about the coal tit that seems to have become a fixture, it looks a lot greyer than either of the pair that nested by the railway station. It could just be a trick of the gloomy light on pristine Autumn plumage or it could be one of the influx of the Continental subspecies that have come over in record numbers this year. I probably won't know until I see another coal tit with it and can compare and contrast.

It wasn't a day for being in any wide open spaces and I wanted to avoid the Saturday crowds on public transport so I got the 256 into Flixton for a squelchy walk around Wellacre Country Park.

Wellacre Wood 

The paths were mostly boggy and I was glad to get into Wellacre Wood where there was still enough leaf cover to keep the rough paths manageable. I was even more glad to be in there while a sudden downpour passed by. There wasn't a right lot about within the wood and it was hard work finding those birds that were around, the sound of rain hitting leaves masking even the scolds of wrens and bouncing leaves and branches masking any movements in the undergrowth.

The worst had passed by as I emerged onto the path by the fields. Dozens of redwings and blackbirds foraged in the hawthorns with a small flock of goldfinches and a couple of blue tits. Carrion crows and pied wagtails fed on the fields and a dozen or so woodpigeons flew about, mostly scared up by fireworks. Over three hundred starlings perched on the power lines and pylons over by the water treatment works.

Jack Lane 

Being an idiot I seriously contemplated taking the path through the reedbeds at Jack Lane. Dear reader, I stuck to the lane, which for all its puddles wasn't muddy. My reward was a mixed tit flock at the end of the lane that included pairs of willow tit, goldcrest and treecreeper. They bounced through the wet willows alongside the railway embankment giving excellent views so long as a camera wasn't focused on them, in which case they'd make sure there was a lot of twiggy vegetation in the way or else only a silhouette against a blank sky. The couple of water rails noisily sparring in the reeds by the lane were but fleeting shadows and the Cetti's warbler just a couple of bursts of song.

Jack Lane
The path not trod today.

Jays were on acorn duty and the coal tits I hadn't been seeing in the mixed tit flocks elsewhere were the noisiest component of the flock by Dutton's Pond. It seemed odd not to see any ducks on the pond in the rain.

Dutton's Pond 

I kept to the metalled path along the edge of Fly Ash Hill. There were no titmice on this side of the wood though there were plenty of blackbirds and a ring-necked parakeet screeched from the treetops.

The Mersey, unsurprisingly, was in full spate. I couldn't see any birds on the river, the banks were getting a good scouring and weren't providing much cover. More surprising was a single fieldfare perched on a rooftop by the river. They were notable absentees in my wander round Wellacre Country Park and a single fieldfare is always unusual.

As I waited for the bus home eleven parakeets screeched and squawked as they did a circuit over Flixton Garden Centre before settling into the trees by the river.

Home thoughts

House sparrow
I think this cock's one of the 2022 vintage.

It was a lovely Autumn day but the circumstances of the day scotched the plans. Nothing major, just stuff needing sorting. On the plus side it gave me the chance to keep tabs on the comings and goings on the garden as I came and went.

One of the spadger families, I think Team Tawny, were the visitors at dawn with a couple of blue tits in tow. The jackdaws on the rooftops were making a noise of waking up and one of the magpies was having a morning rattle from the rowan tree. A flyover pied wagtail was a nice surprise as I left the house.

There were a couple of dozen woodpigeons on the school playing field first thing. They were notably absent the rest of the day.

Spadgers enjoying the lunchtime drizzle

A couple of hours later there were a few more spadgers and a couple of great tits had come in to the feeders while a couple of collared doves, a blackbird and a woodpigeon were rummaging about in the flowerbeds. A goldcrest made a cameo appearance, attracted by the suet-filled pine cone I'd hung in the tree. As were a couple of squirrels though they couldn't quite get to grips with it.

A skein of 28 pink-footed geese flew overhead as I got home at lunchtime. Both teams of spadgers were in the garden this time and the male coal tit joined the other titmice, skipping in and out taking sunflower seeds to cache. I suspect one of the blue tits is caching food, too, something they don't do very often. The damned squirrels had chewed through the rope tying up the suet cone so I had to jam it into an old squirrel-proof feeder (the squirrels can nibble at the cone but they can't make off with it). One of the robins was busy fossicking about in the fallen leaves under the blackcurrant bushes. A couple of rooks flew overhead, they're skipping between school playing fields at the moment and not settling en masses anywhere.

Another skein of pink-feet flew overhead in the wet gloom of twilight.

• Blackbird 1
• Blue tit 3
• Coal tit 1
• Collared dove 2
• Feral pigeon 3
• Goldcrest 1
• Goldfinch 1
• Great tit 2
• House sparrow 16
• Jackdaw 4
• Magpie 2
• Pied wagtail 1
• Pink-footed goose 28+
• Robin 1
• Rook 2
• Starling 1
• Woodpigeon 1

The Longdendale Trail

The Longdendale Trail by Padfield 

Our part of the world was missing all the weather warnings so inevitably there were massed cancellations of trains. I decided against a walk on the Sefton Coast because the train to Liverpool was cancelled so I headed into Manchester to get me a new monthly travel card and an old man's explorer ticket to wherever. Except it was the Liverpool train that chugged past our house and the Manchester one that was cancelled.

I got the bus into Manchester and got my monthly travel card. I decided to get the train to Hadfield and have a walk along the Longdendale Trail to see how it looks in Autumn. (The train to Hadfield isn't often cancelled as it spends all day shuttling to and fro between Piccadilly and Hadfield, and the Longdendale Trail is dead flat easy walking, which is exactly what I wanted today).

It became a dark and gloomy sort of a morning and it started spitting with rain as we passed over the viaduct high over the Dinting Reservoirs. It was okay for walking in, though, as I set off from Hadfield Station.

There were lots of furtive small bird noises in the hedgerows along the old railway line, nearly all drowned out by the songs of wrens and robins and the clamour of jackdaws on the rooftops beyond.

The blackbird in the hawthorns by the path was within camera distance, I was determined to have a bird photo in this post. The blackbird was determined I wasn't. I did anyway.

It started raining properly so I told myself I'd just go as far as Bottoms Reservoir and back unless the weather took a turn for the significantly better. A mixed finch flock including chaffinches, goldfinches and at least one bullfinch coincided with a mixed tit flock including long-tailed, blue and great tits in a stand of hawthorns on the embankment beyond the Padfield Road bridge. The fuss and chatter disturbed the blackbirds feeding in those hawthorns and they flew over to the hedgerow on the other side of the line.

Padfield Main Road bridge over the Longdendale Trail 

I just got to Bottoms Reservoir when the heavens opened and I called it quits. On the way back the two mixed flocks hadn't gone their separate ways, all of them huddling deep in the hawthorns making rude bird noises at the weather.

I got the train at Hadfield and headed home. Even the trackside magpies were keeping under cover so I decided to take the hint and follow their example.

Mosses

Cutnook Lane 

I'd set my alarm early for to go for an adventure but my knees were still feeling the effects of yesterday's mudlarking so I decided to have an hour's kip instead. (It's the sheer and rotation stresses when part of the foot slips sideways that causes the problems.) As it was I didn't miss anything as the target had flown by dawn.

Lostock Park 

It was a mild and cloudy, fitfully sunny, day which I didn't want to waste so after a rather bleak wander round the local patch I headed for the Trafford Centre to head further afield. Had it not been for the eight blackbirds — most of them first-Winter males — having the last of the berries in the bushes by the engineering workshop there'd have been fewer birds than I had in my back garden.

I wasn't after much of a walk, just a toddle round a country park or something to get a bit of gentle exercise. Anyway, the first bus that came along was the 100 heading for Irlam so I had a walk on the Salford Mosses.

Cutnook Lane 

The winds of the past few days had blown a lot of the leaves of the trees so the noise of the motorway was an issue as I walked down Cutnook Lane. I could hardly hear the contact calls of the long-tailed tits and great tits in the bushes along the drain and I nearly missed the couple of goldfinches flying overhead. Over in the paddocks a couple of dozen pied wagtails were flitting about amongst the magpies. Oddly the turf field on the other side of the road was completely empty. A kestrel hovered far over the field of rough beyond the fishery. 

Twelve Yards Road 

On a whim I turned right onto Twelve Yards Road and headed for Barton Moss. This stretch of the road is lined with trees which makes it tricky to see into the fields at times. Although it was only mid-afternoon there was a feeling that everything had long since gone to bed: aside from the scolds of wrens as I passed by there wasn't a peep from any small birds. There was plenty of noise from the buzzard which landed in the trees by Cutnook Lane.

I scanned the wet field to the North and found only a couple of magpies. The field of rough to the South was scarcely more productive. A small tilled field just beyond had half a dozen carrion crows foraging on it. A covey of about a dozen grey partridges scurried across one corner and disappeared into the rough.

Along Twelve Yards Road 

Passing Barton Moss Cottage a few more crows and magpies rummaged about in the fields as the wind got up and blew heavy clouds in. A few chaffinches flew overhead. It was positively gloomy as I passed by Black Wood and the small mixed tit flock in the canopy was just a medley of dancing silhouettes. The long-tailed tits were easy enough to identify, I had to go by their contact calls to be sure of the blue tits and great tits at that distance.

Beyond Black Wood it's open rough grazing on both sides of the road. The field by the motorway just had a couple of crows on it. On the other side of the road a few sheep had started making inroads on the rough while the rest of the flock fed on the soft grass near the railway. More chaffinches passed low overhead and lesser black-backs flew to their roost somewhere along the Mersey. One of the sheep disturbed a couple of pheasants and their noisy flight in turn disturbed a pair of stonechats which flew off into the rank vegetation by the field drain next to the wood.

Barton Moss 

It started raining as I approached the motorway bridge and it was a steady downpour as I walked down Barton Moss Road. Collared doves and blackbirds kept to the cover of the hawthorns by the road and I couldn't blame them.

I didn't have long to wait for the next bus, a 67 which took me into Barton. The rain had stopped when I got off and walked down to the bus stop by the canal and headed off home in the twilight.