Leighton Moss

Bearded tit

It was a grey day and the rain was persisting down but I needed to get some birdwatching done before I forgot what they look like so I headed off for Leighton Moss which has the advantages of plenty of hides for shelter and being two minutes' walk from Silverdale Station.

Before I left the spadgers and titmice brought my attention to the state of the feeding stations, the suet feeders being empty and there only being a day's left in the seed feeders at current rate of consumption. I've had to buy new seed feeders after the squirrels finally managed to bend the wires enough to be able to quickly fill their boots, cache it and come back to plunder the rest, emptying a feeder within two hours.

It was a straightforward trip up to Silverdale with my Old Man's Explorer Ticket and the rain abated to a steady light rain. Flocks of wigeon and teal littered the coastal pools, there was just the one great white egret this time. As I turned the corner and crossed the bridge into Leighton Moss a small flock of fieldfares flew low overhead into the trees somewhere over the causeway.

There was nobody at the Hideout when I arrived so I spent a few minutes watching the to and fro at the feeders. There were plenty of coal tits about with the other titmice and the dunnocks were giving the mallards a fair contest for the seeds that had dropped to the ground.

Teal

The pool at Lilian's Hide was busy with ducks. A crowd of gadwalls were with the coots on one side of the water, a dozen shovelers and a few dozen teal lurked by the hide, the shovelers dozing and the teal busy a-bobbing and courting. The gadwall seemed to have settled into pairs, as had the few mallards that were dotted about. A raft of half a dozen tufted ducks out in the middle of the pool with half a dozen dabchicks were the only diving ducks today.

Teal

The walk through the reedbeds was fairly quiet. The robins, wrens and titmice quietly rummaged in the trees and it was a pair of goldcrests of all things making most of the noise. The titmice don't seem to have established mixed flocks here yet, I saw pairs of great tits and blue tits and a family of long-tailed tits.

Walking through the reedbeds 

The pool at the Tim Jackson Hide was heaving with shovelers, teal and pintails. I thought the hybrid shoveler wasn't about today, it was only as I was packing my bag to move on that I realised it was asleep in front of the hide with its head stuck firmly in its back feathers.

Bearded tits

It was lunchtime so it was far too late to be seeing bearded tits on the grit feeders on the path to the Griesdale Hide. A pair reminded me that birds run to their own whims and rules. If you're lucky enough to see bearded tits on warm, sunny days they're sleek, streamlined little bodies. On cool, gloomy days like today they fluff themselves up and look like balls on sticks.

Teal

There were more teal, shovelers and pintails on the pool at the Griesdale Hide but half as many of them spread thinly over this larger pool.

Walking back there were more of the same though the bearded tits had moved on by the time I got to the trays. I walked past Lilian's Hide and followed the path round to the visitor centre. The alder trees were fizzing with goldfinches, chaffinches and siskins. It's always nice to see siskins at eye level, usually they're hanging upside down at the other end of a tall tree.

Siskin

I had one last look at the feeders at the Hideout and was rewarded by the appearance of one of the marsh tits, I'd had no luck in the willows by the reedbeds.

Checking the trains I found if I got the Barrow train to Arnside I could have ten minutes' nosy on the Kent Estuary before getting the train back to Preston. It was low tide and the estuary looked bleakly lovely. Redshanks and black-headed gulls foraged the nearby muds with a couple of curlews and a rather forlorn looking little egret. A small object dash-stopping in the mid distance turned out to be a ringed plover. Further out a dozen lesser black-backs loafed in a channel with a great black-back and shelducks dabbled by its bank.

Kent Estuary, Arnside 

On the train back I checked out the coastal pools again at Leighton Moss. No sign of any egrets this time but a couple of immature red-breasted mergansers were cruising about near the embankment.

I didn't fancy waiting the best part of an hour for the next train back to Manchester from Preston so I caught the Colne train and changed at Blackburn and got into Manchester ten minutes quicker than I would have done. There are advantages to the flexibility of the old man's explorer ticket.

Kent Estuary, Arnside

Etherow Country Park

Mandarin duck

For some reason I was having a low energy day and couldn't be much bothered so I headed off to Etherow Country Park to take pictures of mandarin ducks on a gloomy afternoon. There were plenty of them about, the drakes rigged out in full breeding plumage, but they weren't keen on having their photos taken today.

There were a few dozen black-headed gulls on the lake with the Canada geese, mallards and mute swans, which I'm taking as a positive given how low their numbers have been generally. Coots looked thin on the ground but there were plenty of moorhens about and a dozen tufted ducks cruised aimlessly about the lake.

River Etherow 

The river was in full spate so I wrote off any chances of seeing a dipper about. And I was dead wrong, there were just enough large rocks poking up above the water by the bridge for one to feed from though it had a torrid time of it with the undertow between rocks and a couple of times I thought it was heading off to Marple before it bobbed back up again ten yards upstream.

Dipper

A buzzard was calling from somewhere in Ernocroft Wood but I couldn't see it. The carrion crows, which are usually reliable for pinpointing buzzards, let me down today.

Keg Wood 

I had half hours' ramble round Keg Wood before my knee asked for time off for good behaviour. It was fairly quiet, all the titmice were bedding down for the night in the hedges round the cottage by the weir. Great spotted woodpeckers and jays objected to my passing by, wrens and robins sang ownership of Winter territories and flocks of woodpigeons and jackdaws flew overhead.

Keg Wood 

I was at the bus stop waiting for the 384 to Stockport when I noticed a couple of fieldfares flying overhead past the jackdaws going to roost in the trees behind Compstall.

Etherow Country Park 

That time of year

Every Autumn it's the same: the birdwatching world lights up with bells and whistles and each day brings a mouthwatering array of rare and "mega" reports to the sightings lists. And they're always somewhere else. 

The Northwest of England doesn't often host anything rare or very rare, there'll be one or two a year and even less often in Autumn, it tends to be in Winter or Spring. Meanwhile Flamborough and Shetland and Scilly and Cornwall are being spoilt rotten. It's hard sometimes to feel it's not a bit unfair somehow. Then again, having lived in the Midlands I know how lucky we are to have a seaboard within easy travelling distance and what a difference that makes to the year list! That sets me thinking that even though we're not a twitcher's paradise we are remarkably lucky to have such a rich mosaic of different habitats and sites in a relatively small area that I've got to more than 200 species on my year list with only a handful of days birdwatching outside the region. And you know what? Even if I couldn't get to 200 species I would still be getting out and about, still would be enjoying the scenery and the birdwatching and still be bitching about the public transport. All of that is more important than the numbers. Well, perhaps not the bitching about public transport.

It's good to go further afield once in a while and see something new and different but whether you're birding a region, a local patch or a back garden it's important to enjoy the moments and not fret too much about how much you might be missing elsewhere. After all, even if you were in the right place at the right time there's no guarantee that you'd be able to see what you were looking for. And it's worth remembering that one man's rarity is another man's easy tick, you'd be surprised how many common English garden birds trigger requests for rarity submissions in the Northern Isles outside the Autumn migration period.

Which doesn't mean I don't look at pictures of Arctic redpolls or red-flanked bluetails or whatnot disporting in people's gardens and think to myself: "Wouldn't it be nice…"

Moss Side

Carrion crow, Alexandra Park

After the bad weather of the past couple of days it was nice to wake to a mild, fitfully sunny Autumn's day. Unfortunately I'd slept very badly, just a couple of hours after finally getting off some time about 0700, so I struggled with the thought of dragging myself out for a walk. Trees and trespassers knocked out the local trains for most of the morning so I thought I'd have a nice quiet day listening to the cricket. I changed my mind by the end of South Africa's innings. So off I trotted. I didn't fancy a weekend walk along the Mersey, I couldn't get to the Salford Mosses, In the end, via a circuitous route, I drifted into town and promptly drifted back out again when it was decided that because the train I was travelling on was running half an hour late it was going to skip the station I wanted, and also the stations for plans J and K…

Alexandra Park 

So I got the 103 into Moss Side and had a gentle stroll around Alexandra Park.

The carrion crows, squirrels and magpies were busy rummaging about on the open grass while woodpigeons and parakeets clattered about the treetops. Small birds of any kind were notably absent. 

Tufted duck, Alexandra Park

The results of the avian flu outbreak earlier in the year were painfully obvious by the small number of waterfowl on the lake. Half a dozen each of coots and moorhens, a dozen tufted ducks, a couple of dozen mallards, half a dozen Canada geese and just the one mute swan. About thirty black-headed gulls clamoured for scraps by the ice cream van.

Alexandra Park 

I walked down into Chorlton for the 150 to the Trafford Centre. Magpies, carrion crows and jackdaws flitted between the trees as I waited on Wilbraham Road and a jay bounced about from bollard to bollard until it tired of the game and flew over to the house across the road to spend five minutes trying to prise open a skylight window.

Wirral

Herring gull and turnstones, West Kirby

It was likely to be the last fine day of the week so I headed over to the Wirral to catch up with my wader watching.

I went over to West Kirby first for a high tide walk around the marine lake. The last time I was here it was rendered impossible by building works. They've been finished and there's now a rippling wall providing lots of seats by the lake, which is quite nice really.

Black-headed gulls, West Kirby

Turnstone, plus bath toy, West Kirby

Black-headed gulls and herring gulls were loafing on the jetties when I arrived in bright sunshine. A couple of redshanks were foraging at the water's edge and a turnstone was having a bath. As I walked round there were more gulls on the water and turnstones on the seawall. Three red-breasted mergansers swam over on the far side of the lake and a great crested grebe cruised midwater. 

Shag, West Kirby

I was halfway along when a juvenile shag popped up out of the water by the seawall. Try as I may to get ahead of it to get a photograph that wasn't backlit it kept swimming ahead of me. It was mostly catching small fish, gobies I think, and a couple of small crabs. A couple of dozen turnstones were roosting on the rocks by the marina.

West Kirby Marine Lake 

The sea was washing over the seaward length of path. A couple of shelducks flew up the estuary and a cormorant sat on a nearby buoy. As is always the way of these things the mergansers had swum off to the opposite side of the lake. When I wasn't dodging waves I was dodging herring gulls dropping mussels onto the path to try and crack them.

Brent geese, black-headed gulls, oystercatchers and, I think, knots and dunlins, West Kirby

I had a look over at the salt marsh beyond the beach. The tide had pushed hundreds of waders — mostly oystercatchers, redshanks, knots and dunlins with a few curlews and a lot of unidentifiable birds — onto the marsh to roost. Shelducks and a dozen or so light-bellied Brent geese loafed at the water's edge.

Redshanks and oystercatcher, Hoylake

Oystercatchers, Hoylake

The wind was blowing the clouds in as I got the train the couple of stops down to Manor Road and walked down to the promenade to see what waders were about on the beach. Lines of hundreds of oystercatchers, dunlins and redshanks roosted on the mudbanks with a few curlews while dozens of herring gulls and black-headed gulls loafed on the grassy beach beyond the lifeboat station with a couple of particularly huge great black-backs. 

Black-headed gulls, redshanks and dunlin, Hoylake

Away from the lifeboat station small groups of a dozen or two waders loafed about the tussocks of grass and sea plantain on the beach and half a dozen pied wagtails flitted about close to the promenade. Most of the waders were redshanks and dunlins with small groups of ringed plovers skittering between them. A flock of a dozen knot flew in and settled down in the mid-distance and I nearly missed three grey plovers just beyond them. Every so often I'd look twice at a particularly small wader then realise it was a small dunlin viewed from a foreshortening angle. I'd done this so often that when I spotted a little stint fossicking about by a puddle I assumed it was another small dunlin until it turned and I saw its beak.

Shelduck, knots and dunlins, Hoylake

I wandered back and got the train and by the time we reached Birkenhead it was raining so I decided against visiting another site. I was wet enough already from the knees down and I'd had a few hours' good birdwatching.

The artist suffers for his work

Mosses

Great spotted woodpecker, Chat Moss

It was cloudier, and distinctly windier, today but still a fine Autumn day begging to have a walk taken in it. I got the train into Irlam and headed up Astley Road for a walk on the mosses.

Astley Road was busy today. I always make a point of stepping into the roadside to give vehicles a fighting chance on the abominable road surface. There's nothing like ten tons of fully loaded lorry driving past on a narrow road and sloping 30° in your direction for remembering all those prayers you forgot at school. Having the wind in my ears meant I had to keep stopping to look over my shoulder for approaching traffic so I probably missed a lot of passing birdlife.

In between times I had a go at picking out the runners and riders in a large mixed tit flock in the hedgerows. I gave up trying to count in the end, there were "many" long-tailed tits with a fair few blue tits and a few great tits. This time of year as the wind blows loose leaves out of the trees the disruptive colourings and jerky flitting about of titmice makes them conspicuous as a group but almost impossible to pin down as individuals. Which, of course, is the whole point of their massing together as a flock.

Irlam Moss 

I was hoping to see some finches but I had to wait until I got to Prospect Grange to find the first goldfinch and chaffinch in the hedgerow, and it was just the one goldfinch and chaffinch. I'm having a shockingly bad year for yellowhammers and didn't improve my performance any with them today. A large flock of black-headed gulls and lesser black-backs were following the plough a few fields away with half a dozen carrion crows. I'd kept seeing a buzzard rising and falling above the farmstead next to the motorway, I got to the motorway and found it was three buzzards, one on the wing and two noisy juveniles in the trees.

Pied wagtail, Chat Moss
A white wagtail would have pale grey flanks without the sooty brown tones of this bird. It looked bright white to the eye in the sunlight.

It was quiet over the motorway with just a few carrion crows in the turf fields, a handful of woodpigeons flying about and a few pied wagtails on the roofs in the turf company yard. One of them was pale enough for me to look closely at to make sure I wasn't overlooking a white wagtail on passage. Red admirals were being blown about the roadside by the breeze. The birdwatching picked up a little on the approach to Four Lanes End with a few great tits, wrens and blackbirds in the trees, pheasants in the fields and another buzzard flying by.

Twelve Yards Road 

The wind had picked up and had blown most of the cloud cover away. I decided to forgo the bleak majesty of Little Woolden Moss and headed up the path that runs parallel to Twelve Yards Road to see what was about on the pools and woods. A great-spotted woodpecker was working the telegraph poles by the road, starting near the bottom of each, working its way up to the top then flying to the next. A dead tree's a dead tree whatever use man makes of it. A flock of over thirty stock doves in the field by the road was good to see. Less good to see was that Twelve Yards Road is breaking up almost as badly as Astley Road.

Black darter (left) and common darter, Chat Moss

Joining the path I was astonished by the number of black darters that were about, mostly sunning themselves on rocks and nettle tops, a few flitting around with their wings shimmering blue in the sunlight. They actually have clear wings but in flight the wings interfere with the light when the sun is below the yardarm to give a shimmering rich blue effect that I haven't seen in other dragonflies. A few common darters were also sunning themselves, the black darters getting quite stroppy about it but always giving way when challenged for the best place due to their slightly smaller size. A few red admirals fluttered about the nettle beds.

I thought the mixed tit flock in Astley Road was hard to unpick, it was a doddle compared the one working its way through the wind-rattled birch scrub along the path. There were long-tailed tits, some blue tits, at least one great tit and at least one goldcrest. The wrens and robins kept undercover.

Snipe, Chat Moss

The pools were quiet, the mallards and moorhens seen but not heard. A dabchick fished in one corner of the big pool behind the birches while a dozen snipe dozed on a little island and two little egrets hunted along the far bank. Having already been surprised by the number of darters I wasn't surprised by the Southern hawkers patrolling the goat willows and the couple of common hawkers skimming the tops of the fading Himalayan balsams.

Southern Hawker, Chat Moss

I turned and headed down the path to the junction between Cutnook Lane and Twelve Yards Road. The pools at the side of the path seemed to be completely deserted, the trees on the other side were busy with another mixed tit flock.

Heading towards Cutnook Lane 

I  wondered if I should turn and carry on down to Barton Moss but my knees said no so I walked down Cutnook Lane and bumped into yet another mixed tit flock by the fishery, this one a sizeable concern with at least a couple of dozen long-tailed tits and quite a few blue tits and great tits and a couple of goldcrests. All the chiffchaffs of Summer seem to have moved on. As I approached the motorway a flock of black-headed gulls billowed over the motorway, made a racket as they flew low over the stables and paddocks then flew back whence they came.

Over the motorway and I got the 100 to Irlam Station and made my way home. The birdwatching hadn't been spectacular but the afternoon had had its moments.

Horwich moors

Stonechat, Rivington Pike

It was set fair to be a nice, if crisp, Autumn day so I thought I'd catch up with some exercise and give my knees and wind a bit of a workout with a walk on the Horwich moors. I set out later than planned and had to get the bus into Bolton, which then get stuck in Walkden for half an hour due to a road traffic accident. When we finally arrived at Bolton Interchange it was just in time to see the 125 setting off. I didn't fancy waiting twenty minutes for the next so I got the 575 into Horwich and decided to head for the moors via Lever Park instead.

Along Roynton Road 

Just over the border into Lancashire I decided to turn into Roynton Road and take the pack road up to Rivington Gardens. The trees along Roynton Road were busy with woodpigeons and squirrels and a small mixed tit flock could be heard but not seen in the trees by the school playground.

Magpie, Rivington

I joined the old pack road which makes a relatively gentle ascent to the gardens. Both knees and wind made heavy weather of it at first, evidence both that I needed the exercise and I'd been sat too long on buses this afternoon. Luckily it was good walking, the weather was glorious and the road was set with cobbles of millstone grit set end-up so as to give the pack horses traction in Winter weather. 

The pack road up to Rivington Gardens 

The thin woodland gave way to moorland pasture to the right and a slope down into the woods on the left which was hidden by a high sheltering bank most of the way. Magpies and jackdaws foraged amongst the sheep while robins, wrens and great tits worked the thick vegetation on the banks. Woodpigeons clattered about the trees and a jay made a noisy performance of collecting acorns from the young oak trees its ancestors had planted along the way.

Walking towards Rivington Pike 

Getting to the boundary of the gardens I took the path on the right that doubles back then rises gently round to Georges Road below Rivington Pike. Up till now I'd been wondering if I'd dressed too warm for the afternoon but now I was away from the shelter of banks and trees I was glad of having the extra layer on. There were still whinberries on the bushes and here and there there'd be extraordinary looking stands of Pernettya bushes with big, candy-pink berries, presumably planted to supplement the diets of game birds. I was walking well now and thoroughly enjoying the scenery.

Looking towards Rivington Reservoir 

Carrion crows and magpies accompanied the sheep while down the slope a field of horses were accompanied by a flock of rooks and jackdaws. A young stonechat jumped out of the furze by the path and gave me the eyeball for a minute before deciding I wasn't important enough to make a noise about and went back to fossicking in the depths.

Georges Road 

I joined Georges Road and started the gentle descent to Rivington Pike Cottage. I kept an eye on the pine plantation for any birds and was rewarded by a couple of chaffinches. A coal tit surprised me by feeding on the only birch tree on the other side of the road. I was almost at the cottage when I heard a goldcrest in the pines and stopped to check it out. The goldcrests were easy enough to spot as they were working the pines next to the road and kept darting out to catch flies in mid-air. The blue tits and coal tits were harder work as they were deeper in the pines. Further in a couple of robins sang at each other.

Fieldfares, Rivington Pike

I got a cup of tea and the cottage and sat down by the road to admire the scenery, the low sun providing a superb modelling light and rendering luminous greens in the fields. Some movement at the bottom of the field in front of me caught my eye. Eighteen fieldfares and a mistle thrush were feeding in the grass at the margins of a line of sedge.

Walking down Georges Road 

Walking down Georges Road 

Rivington Pike 

Passing Wilderswood and anticipating a sudden ascent

It was a gentle walk down Georges Road. At the edge of Wilderswood a kestrel flew out of the trees and started to hunt the open slopes, one of those pictures that look wonderful in Ladybird books and the camera cannot capture. I decided not to get grumpy about the stretch of road that suddenly rises by the row of houses then falls down again and my reward was a female sparrowhawk that powered past at head height over a bank of ivy and shot between a couple of houses, flying sideways along the hedge to try and put any panicky birds to flight.

Along Georges Road 

The final descent of Georges Road was in the company of a very fine sunset. I got the 125 to Bolton and the trains home after an excellent walk.

Along Georges Road