Pennington Flash

Egyptian goose

Rather to my surprise I got my visit to Pennington Flash though it wasn't straightforward. The 25 arrived on time but we spent ten minutes at the roadworks in Davyhulme and got to the Trafford Centre just in time to wave bye bye to the 132. I checked to see if there were any alternatives to waiting half an hour for the 126, thinking I might be able to get the 22 into Eccles or Monton and pick up the 35 to Leigh. Yep, no problem, get off on one of the stops on Half Edge Lane and wait six or seven minutes for the 35. Luckily Half Edge Lane isn't wide enough for buses to overtake easily so I just managed to flag down the 35 riding on our tail.

And so I got to Pennington Flash.

It had rained a couple of times on the way in and I was glad I'd brought my raincoat. The rest of the afternoon was sunny and very breezy which made me wonder if I shouldn't have taken the risk and left the raincoat at home and worn a jacket. It would have poured down then, mind. I walked in from St Helens Road and decided to take the paths to the sailing club to see what was about in the light woodland by the flash. At first it wasn't a lot despite my bumping into a juvenile blackcap by the old car park. Even the chiffchaffs weren't squeaking.

Pennington Flash 

Pennington Flash 

The water was choppy on the flash, making it tricky to be sure of what you were looking at in the distance before it disappeared behind a wave. Rafts of dozens of coots were scattered around the flash, mostly close to the banks. Great crested grebes were peppered about, with a dozen of them congregating over by Ramsdales. Most of the cormorants were over on the spit drying their wings. There were a few out in midwater and three of them appeared to be fishing cooperatively, diving and rising in synchronisation. The raft of forty-odd large gulls out in the middle were 50:50 herring gulls to lesser black-backs. There might have been a couple of dozen black-headed gulls out there, mostly over by the car park.

Pennington Flash 

On a whim I followed the scrappy path through the woodland that eventually gets you onto Green Lane. It's one of those paths used by kids and dogs. And willow tits, as I learned when my passing  a dense stand of elderberries provoked a lot of angry buzzing from the undergrowth. This eased the floodgates a little and along the way I bumped into a family of great tits, a few chiffchaffs, a nuthatch and a willow warbler, a bumper bounty on the past week's performance. Common blue damselflies zipped about on the path, Southern hawkers patrolled the tree margins, common darters chased each other over the brambles and a migrant hawker passed by just long enough for me to see what it was.

Winter Hill from Pennington Flash 

At the sailing club a young lesser black-back was loudly begging for food on the jetty while what I presume was a parent looked on disdainfully from a lamp standard. The youngster was old enough to be flying strongly, I guess it's also considered to be old enough to feed itself. A lot of movement on the slipway turned out to be a family of pied wagtails, the youngsters — as ever — at least as intent on chasing each other as actually finding anything to eat.

Egyptian goose

I walked back and round to the car park where the mallards and mute swans were assiduously mugging for scraps. One young girl finished throwing bread at ducks and decided she was going to kick one of the swans. I rather hoped it would savage her — they can break your wing with one blow of their nose you know — but the mute swans here are remarkably tolerant of unruly children and dogs. Unlike the Canada geese but they were otherwise engaged cruising up and down the lake like an Atlantic convoy. Seven Egyptian geese are still being reported here but I could only find five.

Lapwings

There were about a hundred lapwings on the spit by the Horrocks Hide though half of the crowd weren't for settling and kept flying off and coming back again five minutes later for no apparent reason.

At the Tom Edmondson Hide 

Dabchick

Cormorant

For once there were more gadwalls on the pool opposite the Tom Edmondson Hide than at it. Most of them were juveniles and needed a careful look to separate them from the three-quarter-sized mallards in the reeds. A cormorant sat and dried its wings in front of the hide while gadwalls and dabchicks drifted about apparently aimlessly. A couple of brown hawkers dashed about the hawthorns and elderberries in the hedgerows.

At Ramsdales Hide

The reeds at Ramsdales made for difficult viewing of the islands. The wind helped a bit, blowing the reeds apart every so often to give clear views of parts of the scene but the overall effect was of a fan dancer being especially coy. I saw a teal and a dozen lapwings and there was a crowd of great crested grebes in the mouth of the bight.

Firs Park

I walked down to the canal, crossed the bridge and walked into Plank Lane for the 588 bus into Leigh. I just missed it so I walked down to Firs Park to see what was on the pond before going back to get the 584. There were plenty of woodpigeons about but only the one coot was out on the water and a lone swift hawked low over the treetops.

It had been fine, if cool and breezy, for the entirety of the walk. It poured down all the way home.

Salford bumper bundle

Mute swan cygnet and coots, Blackleach Country Park 

It was raining more heavily than the forecast had promised and I made the mistake of thinking I'd wait for it to ease up before going for a walk, giving the cat an opportunity to go to sleep on my knee. I escaped and sloped off, hoping to make it to Pennington Flash some time before the sun went supernova but not having much faith in the local bus services' facilitating this. Given the impacts of the roadworks in Stretford and Davyhulme I'd like as not end up playing bus station bingo again. The dozen black-headed gulls loafing on the school playing field and the swift passing low over Humphrey Park Station cheered me up a little about the afternoon's prospects.

Bus station bingo had me getting the 22. I didn't fancy having a walk round Clifton Country Park so I havered between getting off in Kearsley and bobbing over the motorway into Blackleach Country Park or getting off in Moses Gate and walking through to Moses Gate Country Park. Then I noticed the bus passes reasonably near to the entrance of some parkland by Folly Brook I've not visited and seeing as this month seems to be one for filling in gaps I got off at Leigh Avenue, walked through to South Avenue and onto the parkland.

Folly Brook's in there somewhere 

It was dismal weather, a reminder that the Test Match starts at Old Trafford on Wednesday. There's not a lot of Folly Brook and what there was was choked in Himalayan Balsam and assorted whatnot. A couple of magpies rattled in the trees and a chiffchaff squeaked in the undergrowth. I seem to be writing "a chiffchaff squeaked…" a lot lately, an indication of how quiet it's been. 

Campbell Road Wood 

I walked over the paths to Campbell Road Wood, yet another tiny bit of pocket woodland that's part of the Red Rose Forest, providing stepping stones between more extensive bits of woodland in the area, in this case the next stone is the Swinton Greenway which runs NNE from Monton Road to Victoria Park in Swinton and passes by about a hundred yards from Campbell Road Wood. It's the wrong time of year to be exploring new bits of woodland: a couple of chiffchaffs squeaked; a couple of goldfinches twittered about in the treetops; woodpigeons, magpies and carrion crows rummaged about. It's a nice little wood, though, and I liked that there was a lot of variation in the spacing of the trees and it looked like some coppicing had been done twenty-odd years ago giving a lot of structural variety in such a small space.

Swinton Greenway 

I climbed up a steep path and found myself on the Swinton Greenway. This is yet another old railway walk, closed by disaster rather than Doctor Beeching this time — the Clifton Hall Tunnel collapsed in 1951 and blocked the line forever. More chiffchaffs and goldfinches were joined by wrens and great tits and a couple of robins were tuning up for song. A ring-necked parakeet and a couple of blackbirds called from the private parkland (I think it's attached to the golf course) to the East of the Greenway and house martins twitted low overhead as I passed under the East Lancs Road and into Swinton. A swift passed by as I walked past the football pitch. They seem to be lingering this year.

I'm not sure I'd go out of my way to repeat the walk but it might be a useful add-on to another.

I got to Manchester Road just as the 37 to Bolton was coming along so I got that thinking I could get off somewhere along the way for the bus back to the Trafford Centre. Then I remembered this is the bus that goes past Blackleach Country Park, it would be daft not to have a quick look round.

Black-headed gulls, mallards and coots, Blackleach Country Park 

Mute swan cygnets and coots, Blackleach Country Park 

It was pouring down as I got off the bus and walked over to the country park. Goldfinches twittered in the trees and chiffchaffs squeaked, but you knew that. Out on the lake dozens of coots, mallards and black-headed gulls loafed and drifted in the rain. There were a few young coots and black-headed gulls in the crowds. The raft of half a dozen tufted ducks near the South bank were mostly females, there were a few males peppered about amongst the mallards. For some reason three large mute swan cygnets kept in with the coots well away from the herd of adults to the North. It took me a long time to find the great crested grebe sitting on an island. 

Blackleach Country Park 

I walked round to Hill Top, got the 37 back into Swinton and the 22 to the Trafford Centre. I just missed the 25 so got the 250 and walked through Lostock Park where the woodpigeons were debating whether to carry on browsing on the field or get into the trees out of the rain. There was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing going on. 

Over on the school playing field when I got home 104 black-headed gulls shared the field with 39 lesser black-backs. It feels like Autumn's come early.

Irlam Moss

Pheasant

I was feeling tired and achy and headachy, the full male pattern hypochondria due to a combination of heavy, muggy weather, a high pollen count and a mad dash of a botched weekly shop in the five minutes allowed by our lousy train service. I still felt that I needed some exercise, if only to get some fresh air, reset the senses and try and walk some movement back in the joints so I got the next train to Irlam and had an hour or so's dawdle on Irlam Moss, walking up Astley Road, back down Roscoe Road then back to the station for the train home.

Irlam Moss by Astley Road 

It was desperately quiet. If not for the occasional squeak of a chiffchaff or the creak of farm machinery as fields were being turned over it would have been eerily silent. The only noise from the hundreds of woodpigeons feeding in the barley stubble was the occasional rattle of wings. Blackbirds and robins rummaged about in the hedgerows, goldfinches foraged in trees or flew overhead, families of carrion crows fossicked about in field margins, a constant stream of lesser black-backs passed overhead, all in dead silence. A passing black-headed gull broke the silence and I was ever so grateful. A couple of swallows couldn't be bothered twittering as they passed.

I was just approaching Prospect Grange when a buzzard flew low over the fields, scattering a flock of starlings and being ignored by the woodpigeons and stock doves on the ground.

Irlam Moss by Roscoe Road 

I turned onto Roscoe Road and scanned the fields. Lots more woodpigeons and carrion crows and a handsome "Old English" type cock pheasant. The "mouse" rummaging about in the roadside nettles turned out to be a robin. A yellowhammer called from the depths of the bracken in the land drain as I passed but I could not see a feather of it. Unlike the spadgers ten minutes down the road.

House sparrows

As I walked into Irlam the wind started blowing for rain and my headache eased a bit. The rain never actually arrived but the fresher air felt good and I felt the better even for this short walk. There was a point walking down Roscoe Road where I'd wondered if I'd gone deaf. The birthday party at Irlam Station as I waited for the train confirmed I hadn't.

Astley Road 

Woolston Eyes

Sparrowhawks, Woolston Weir

I decided it was time for a visit to Pennington Flash so I headed for the Trafford Centre to get the buses to Leigh. Except that with roadworks and whatnot the 25 was very late to turn up and even later to get there and I just missed both the 126 and 132 which are scheduled to leave the Trafford Centre half an hour apart. I had forty-nine minutes to wait for the next 126 so I played bus station bingo, the only proviso being that I wasn't getting the 100 for a walk on the mosses. The 100 was the only bus to turn up so I bought a £2 single ticket and had a think as to whereabouts in Warrington I'd be going. I thought it might be an opportunity to have a wander round Rixton Claypits but according to Google Maps this closes at 2:30pm (I've since then had a look on Warrington Council's web site and this is nonsense). So I got off at Weir Lane and followed the footpath down to the river, onto the Mersey Way and headed for Woolston Weir.

Speckled wood, Woolston 

It was nice walking weather, the path was good and walking along Battery Road a pair of ravens filled the air with croaks as they soared high over the rooftops. Lesser black-backs sat on chimneys, magpies and woodpigeons rummaged in gardens, goldfinches twittered, chiffchaffs squeaked and great tits quietly disappeared into brambles. 

River Mersey 

I joined the path by the river where the blackberries were good and the elderberries delicious, a word I've never associated with elderberries before. I only bother with them because they're reputed to include a compound that helps relieve arthritis. Mallards dabbled and quacked by the sides of the river, a few coots and moorhens hugged the banks. As I approached the old Woolston Wharf a pair of sparrowhawks rose from the trees opposite and danced about each other in the sky.

Sparrowhawks, Woolston Weir 

Sparrowhawk, Woolston Weir 

As I got to the weir the mallards were joined by parties of gadwalls. Like as not these were locals, nearby Woolston Eyes hosts hundreds of them from all over the Northwest in midsummer moulting flocks.

Gadwalls, Woolston Weir 

River Mersey at Woolston Weir
Part of the river flows left, most goes dead ahead. Woolston Eyes nature reserve on the far bank, the path I walked on the near bank.

I wandered over to the weir gates to cross the river. The Mersey splits here, most of it going straight over the weir and a side branch taking a detour round Woolston Eyes before rejoining the main flow slightly downstream. A pair of mute swans cruised the bankside, a great crested grebe swam in close before ducking under the gates and swimming upstream. Over on the Cheshire side Canada geese and coots dozed, gadwalls dabbled, a heron lurked on the bank and another great crested grebe was sitting on a nest.

Great crested grebe, Woolston Weir 

Mute swan, Woolston Weir 

Canada geese and coots, Woolston Weir 

I followed the zigzag path up to the top of the bank and followed it along. I've not got a permit for crossing over onto the nature reserve so I stuck to this path. Chiffchaffs and wrens marked my passing, goldfinches twittered and brown hawkers patrolled the tops of the bracken beside the path. I spent a few minutes trying and failing to get photos of the brown hawkers as they zipped about. Unlike birds, which tend to have a predictable trajectory in flight, dragonflies can turn on a sixpence and can fly backwards so I'm not too surprised when I don't get the photo.

Woolston Eyes 

A juvenile sparrowhawk called from the trees behind the bank on my left but didn't get any answering calls from the adults. Over above the Eyes a buzzard called as it soared over the treetops. A bright white object in the trees by the river caught my eye. It turned out to be the belly of a young juvenile cormorant. I'd been hearing but not seeing the lapwings over on the reserve a flock of a dozen of them flew overhead to join them. The greylags I kept hearing remained invisible.

Juvenile cormorant, Woolston Eyes 

Woolston Eyes 

The path descended down to the Ship Canal, the brown hawkers of the open bracken being replaced by the Southern hawkers of the light woodland. Great tits, blue tits, wrens and goldfinches flitted about, chiffchaffs squeaked in willow trees, a couple of robins ran through vocal exercises that were almost but not quite song. As I approached the ferry, which is apparently still a thing though there's no indication as to how to call it or how much it may cost, a bullfinch wheezed in the trees by the canal before flying off into the reserve.

Thelwall Lane 

Wild carrot

It always feels a bit deflating to leave the tree-lined path and negotiate the potholes of Thelwall Lane by the builders' yard. It's only a short walk, though, before you can cut off it and onto Latchford Locks to walk over into Thelwall. A few dozen black-headed gulls loafed on the locks, mallards and lesser black-backs drifted on the canal and pigeons dozed on the lock gates. 

Latchford Locks 

I had ten minutes to wait for the Cat5 bus to Altrincham. Along the way I made up for the complete lack of hirundines along my walk with half a dozen swallows hawking low over the fields on Lymm Road and a house martin over the houses in Rushgreen.

River Mersey at Crossford Bridge, Sale and Cheshire on the left, Stretford and Lancashire on the right

I got off the bus at the top of Washway Road in Sale and watched the 263 bus into Stretford go by as I was waiting to cross the road. It was half an hour for the next bus, by which time I could walk into Stretford town centre and be halfway home. It's a miserable walk, though, as a large part of it involves negotiating the motorway slip roads before then having to work around the roadworks which are causing as much hassle to pedestrians as motorists. The next bus was a 245 which gets me ten minutes' walk from home, I reckoned I could walk up to Bradley Road, have quarter of an hour nosying around to see what was on the fields then walk back over the river for the bus. So I did. There were chiffchaffs, greenfinches and robins in the hedgerows, dozens of woodpigeons and jackdaws in the fields and a buzzard in the trees by the motorway.

Sweetcorn, Stretford

I walked back to the bus stop with a couple of minutes to spare before the bus came. I'd almost forgotten the plan was to go to Pennington Flash.

A Yorkshire dawdle on the train

Jackdaw, Todmorden Station 

The weather forecast offered a day of biblical rain and such was delivered. I have a bunch of free tickets to anywhere on the Northern Rail network so I decided to have a day watching scenery go by.

Today's plan was to get myself an old man's explorer ticket, get up to Carnforth, connect with the train to Leeds, use one of my free tickets for the journey between Carnforth and Todmorden via Leeds then back home via Blackburn and Bolton and see what birds I see along the way. There are no coastal stretches so the likelihood always is a predominance of woodpigeons and corvids but there's some good scenery along the way and you never know if there'll be any surprises.

The first stage was to get into Manchester, get my ticket then get the Blackpool train to Preston, the Windermere train to Lancaster and the Carlisle train to Carnforth. If nothing else sorting out the connections keeps my mind agile. We were held at signals outside Deansgate and I could see the plan falling at the first hurdle but the Blackpool train was running late so I'd be OK. It was running even later when it finally turned up and later yet departing from Bolton where we had the announcement: "We're sorry for this slight delay, we're being held at a signal while they let a train running even later than us through." I scratched the Windermere train off the plan and replaced it with the Barrow train. We couldn't miss that as it would be following our trail quarter of an hour behind us and couldn't overtake in any case. But I would be missing the Leeds train at Carnforth and would have to wait two hours for the next so the question was: spend the interval getting the trains to Ulverston and back or have an hour in the rain at Leighton Moss?

The light rain of Manchester became the heavy rain of Lancashire. Woodpigeons clattered about fields of ripe barley or sat sullen and sodden on railway furniture. Carrions crows and jackdaws fossicked about in fields and occasional lesser black-backs and black-headed gulls passed by. The large gulls on the roofs of the sheds by Preston Station are usually a mixture of lesser black-backs and herring gulls, today they were all lesser black-backs.

I got the Barrow train and, watching the rain as we travelled North, decided to stay on to Ulverston. I was checking to make sure that I wouldn't be missing the next Leeds train at Carnforth when I noticed the train I'd been aiming for would be getting to Lancaster five minutes after the Barrow train and I'd be able to make the connection. I got off, crossed over to platform one and waited for the Leeds train in the teeming rain. When it arrived it arrived at platform five so there was a panicky rush across the station which turned out to be entirely unnecessary as there was a ten minute wait before we set off.

The train between Morecambe and Leeds, connecting with Cumbria and the South at Lancaster and Carnforth, curves up the Lune Valley, follows a stretch of the Wenning then meanders down the Aire Valley into Leeds. For nearly all that length it's very picturesque, textbook basket of eggs glacial drumlin topography with a backdrop of North Yorkshire Pennines. Whenever I went on geology field trips to the North Yorkshire moors it was always pouring down so today felt comfortably familiar, with the added advantage of sitting down out of the rain watching the scenery pass by. The rolling dips and rises were punctuated by becks and dry stone walls, the hills drifted in and out of the cloud and misty rain. Like I say, picturesque.

There wasn't a lot of birds about in the open fields and most of they were carrion crows and jackdaws. Rooks joined the jackdaws in the fields near High Bentham. A couple of times the train surprised small flocks of linnets feeding by the trackside. Swallows hawked around old station buildings. A buzzard glowered at the train from a dry stone wall near Eldroth. Dozens of black-headed gulls and lesser black-backs loafed by Hellifield Flash and a flock of greenfinches flew away as we passed Sugar Hill. As we drifted down along the Aire the crows and jackdaws were joined by more rooks and woodpigeons. A heron stalked a field near Bell Busk, a little egret in the Aire by the Riparian Way near Cross Hills. A couple of juvenile kestrels tried to shelter from the wind on telegraph poles at Low Uttley, an adult male hunted by Marley Water Treatment Works where a flock of swifts became my new last sighting of the year for them. Thin pickings but pickings to be had and it was a very pleasant journey.

I resisted the urge to use one of my free return tickets to go there and back to Nottingham just for the sake of it and got the next train to Todmorden which was sitting waiting for us as we got in. If the pickings were thin in North Yorkshire they were scant in West Yorkshire and it came as a relief to see a dozen pigeons as we called at Halifax.

I had twenty minutes to wait for the Blackburn train at Todmorden so I nipped out to get a pastie for my lunch and evaded the eyes of hungry jackdaws while I ate it. The rain hadn't abated any.

The view from Todmorden Station 

I'd been sniffy about Yorkshire but pickings were as slim on the right side of the hills. There's never much bird life in Burnley but today even the crows and pigeons weren't about. Rose Grove sometimes has its moments, today wasn't one of them. A bit of balance was provided by the pigeons and dozen black-headed gulls on Accrington Bus Station and the mallards and black-headed gulls on Rishton Reservoir. 

At Blackburn I walked across the platform onto the train to Bolton. It was a quiet journey home, rain punctuated by very occasional woodpigeons, carrion crows or pigeons. A low key end to a day of low key birdwatching but it had been a pleasant way of spending a day of atrocious weather.

Mersey Valley

Juvenile ring-necked parakeet, Jackson's Boat 

It had been another bad night's sleep and I couldn't blame the cat though she was responsible for the early morning alarm call. I have half a memory of starting to tell her about my dream where the Blue Peter polar bear fell off the Formica kitchen cabinets, live on television, when she jumped off the bed and ran downstairs like the proverbial just in case whatever I had was catching.

It was a bright, sunny day and what to do with it? I had too many available options, which all too often leaves me dithering about til teatime then wondering what happened. I surveyed the remnants of the feeders after yesterday's all-day titfest, had my dinner and put my boots on for a walk to who knows where. Which ended up being a meandering walk about Stretford Meadows and the Mersey Valley.

Stretford Meadows 

I walked down Newcroft Road onto Stretford Meadows, the usual crowd of house sparrows in the hedgerow being notably absent. Great tits and wrens muttered in the undergrowth and chiffchaffs squeaked in the trees. Out on the open meadow more chiffchaffs called from hawthorn bushes or in stands of hogweed and great willowherbs. A flock of a dozen or so goldfinches skittered about the birch scrub near the entrance, ones and twos of them flew about the saplings out in the open. There was a constant traffic of woodpigeons overhead, nearly always in ones or twos, the flock of five heading towards Stretford being very atypical. A buzzard was calling from somewhere in the trees on Urmston Lane but like the wrens it was heard but couldn't be seen.

Stretford Meadows looking towards Stretford 

There were plenty of butterflies about today, a few large whites and speckled woods amongst the trees and a lot of meadow browns on the open meadow and all of them being very busy. My list of birds I wasn't seeing or hearing today was considerably longer than the list of ones I was and it came as a bit of a relief to hear a couple of greenfinches fly overhead as I started dropping down from the top of the mound.

Stretford Meadows 

I took a very meandering route around the meadows taking advantage of many of the paths being unusually dry. Lots more meadow browns, a few more chiffchaffs and goldfinches, a few magpies, not a peep from any whitethroats in what had been their singing territories.

I walked round and onto the velodrome. All today's cyclists rang their bells to warn of their approach and said thanks as I moved to one side out of their way. I think it should be recorded when people behave nicely. As I walked under the electricity pylons a raven started croaking overhead, it took me an embarrassingly long time to look straight up to where the raven was sat on a pylon looking down at me. It cronked a couple of times and flew off over the meadows.

Bridgewater Canal Aquaduct
Kickety Brook's somewhere in all that Himalayan balsam.

The walk along Kickety Brook towards Stretford Meadows would have been dead quiet had it not been for the magpies and a couple of great tits. It wasn't a lot more lively walking through Stretford Ees to the river. I'd become so used to the squeaks of chiffchaffs that I almost missed a willow warbler calling in the trees by the wet meadow.

Mallard, Broad Ees Dole 

Sale Water Park was busy with people and water skiers. It was also busy with brown hawkers chasing each other round the reed margins. While I was busy making a Horlicks of photographing any of them a reed warbler silently flitted from one set of reeds to another. The great crested grebe with the damaged wing has finished moulting and still has a damaged wing so it's not just a few feathers out of joint.

Teal Pool

The mallards on the Teal Pool at Broad Ees Dole had noticed all the people and congregated by the path, just in case of goodies. There were a few more mallards by the hide together with a heron and a handful of coots.

Eclipse drake mallard, Broad Ees Dole 

I walked beside the lake to the café. All the mute swans, mallards and Canada geese were over by the visitor centre keeping out of the way of watersports enthusiasts and hoping for a just reward. Common blue damselflies zipped around the tall grass, a few more brown hawkers patrolled the banks and a common hawker shot over my shoulder as I walked.

Common blue damselflies, Sale Water Park 

It was quiet at the café, just a few great tits and blue tits slipping in to the feeders whenever the magpies' backs were turned. Parakeets and magpies made a racket in the trees by Barrow Brook and robins performed vocal exercises in the undergrowth. Family parties of parakeets fed on hawthorn berries by the path by Jackson's Boat, some of them literally within arm's reach, the youngsters have no fear.

Ring-necked parakeet, Jackson's Boat 

Chorlton Ees 

Crossing the river I wandered into Chorlton Ees where parakeets made most of the noise and woodpigeons clattered about in the treetops. Chiffchaffs squeaked, a nuthatch called, great tits and robins stole by like feathery ghosts. Ivy Green was similar, with the addition of a mixed tit flock by Chorlton Brook bouncing about a young ash tree and getting in the way of the comma butterflies chasing each other round the undergrowth.

I carried on through to Turn Moss and got to the bus stop opposite Longford Park just as the 25 arrived. It would have been rude not to.