A walk along the Irwell

Goosander

I woke up from one of those nights where every battle for territorial control of the bed was lost to the cat and found myself facing a bright, sunny day. Half an hour later itchy eyes and ears set me wondering what was going on. I checked the weather forecast to see if I needed to worry about any showers and found the pollen count was Very High, an unwelcome escalation of hostilities. I parked all the plans for today and decided I'd have a late afternoon walk when things might be slightly better.

Across the road, in between sessions where PE teachers exercise their vocal chords, there were a couple of dozen adult lesser black-backs with the usual selection of magpies, woodpigeons and jackdaws. This has been par for the course all week. Lesser black-backs are our default Summer gulls but there's a lot more than usual about this year with dozens of them circling round Trafford Park whenever I've been through.

I noticed reports that the weekend's lesser scaup over at Ringley was still around so, lathered in sun block, a nose full of vaseline and a song in my heart I headed over to the Trafford Centre to get the 22 to Clifton, the plan being to cut through Clifton Country Park, bob over the bridge and have a shufti at the sewage works where it was last reported. Lesser scaup's still a new bird for me so I'm trying to take every opportunity to get my eye on on it.

The 22 is one of our longer local routes. Inevitably we hit the school run. In my experience the school run is one of those things ike half-term holidays, inescapable by the use of simple expedients like clocks or calendars. So it was late afternoon when I arrived at Clifton Cricket Club, crossed Manchester Road and headed down Clifton Hall Road to the country park.

Clifton Country Park 

Blackbirds, blackcaps, song thrushes and wrens provided the major part of the songscape. Here and there a chiffchaff might make itself heard or a goldfinch or a greenfinch. Families of great tits and blue tits stole through bushes like thieves in the night. The lake was littered with Canada geese and black-headed gulls, a few tufted ducks and mallards making up the numbers. A pair of great crested grebes cruised midwater, swallows and house martins hawked overhead.

Great crested grebe, Clifton Country Park 

I headed for the river and bumped into a chap who had also come over to look for the lesser scaup. We compared information: I was going off Birdguides which said Ringley and located the bird in the water treatment works there, his information said Ringley but located the bird a mile or more away in the abandoned water treatment works over the river on the other side of Clifton Country Park by the motorway. We went our different ways, each wishing the other good luck. I was suddenly not sure of seeing the bird at all.

River Irwell 

I wandered over to the river and crossed over to the water treatment works. A few mallards bobbed about on the river, a heron fished in the turbulent waters by the outflow and a couple of grey wagtails fussed about on the shingle banks.

Grey wagtail, Ringley 

The water treatment works have been in a constant state of reconstruction for years so it seemed an unlikely place to see a lesser scaup but I've seen rarities in stranger places so who knows. There were a dozen or so black-headed gulls floating about on the pans and lagoons visible from the road into Ringley but no ducks. There are paths I've not explored here so I had a wander round. The best bet seemed to be the path running from Ringley between Ringley Wood and the water treatment works. I walked the length of the path. Lots of woodland birdsong on one side, empty lagoons and pans on the other. So like as not if a lesser scaup was about it was at the abandoned site.

I walked back over to Clifton Country Park and walked along the path following the river. I reckoned I could walk down to Clifton Aquaduct, cross the river then walk back along the river to the abandoned works to look for the lesser scaup then walk back to the current works and head to either Stoneclough or Clifton for a bus. It's a walk I've done before but not one I've done in Summer and that turned out to make a difference.

Clifton Country Park 

Juvenile blackcap, Clifton Country Park 

All the usual woodland birds were singing in the trees along the path. Every so often I could get a clear view of the river. Hereabouts it runs wide and shallow over and between shelves of New Red Sandstone. A couple of times there was a handful of mallards loafing on a rocky bank or dabbling in the shallows, a few times a black-headed gull or two. I'd gone beyond the park, under the motorway and into Clifton Green before I found any goosanders, a pair of redheads dozing on a rock with a couple of lesser black-backs.

Goosander 

Lesser black-back 

Dodging cyclists on the extremely narrow banktop path next to the big construction works you see from the Bolton to Manchester train I found the path verge was a ribbon of common spotted orchids. It's a very long time since I've seen so many together.

Common spotted orchids 

It was late teatime and by this stage I was flagging badly, wiping my eyes and nose every few minutes. I crossed the aquaduct into Waterdale Meadows and decided I didn't have it in me for the walk back the other way. The best bet was to walk through the meadows into Drinkwater Park and get the 93 from Carr Clough into Manchester.

Waterdale Meadows 

Swifts and swallows hawked overhead and the willow warblers, whitethroats and grey wagtails of the meadows gave way to the blackcaps, chiffchaffs and pied wagtails of Drinkwater Park. 

Drinkwater Park 

I decided on a direct route to the bus stop which would be twenty minutes quicker but involved taking one or other steep path up into the housing estate. I opted for the one to Grundy Avenue, it's as steep as the one to the playground but it doesn't crumble underfoot quite as alarmingly as you climb. Even so, partway up I remembered a rubbishy old Australian drama series called "The Flying Doctors" where a heart attack victim was dangling about six feet from the top of a rocky slope and these two cobbers with more safety gear than fifteen Himalayan climbing teams leaned over and shouted: "It's a dangerously crumbly rock surface, we're going to have to leave you to die here and cut you down later, sorry mate." The twittering of house sparrows in back gardens never sounded so sweet.

There wasn't long to wait for the 93. As every other single time I forgot there's a stop at Kersal Castle, I remembered the 52 to the Trafford Centre stops across the road and is due about ten minutes later and I apologised to the driver for rushing off the bus at the last minute. Every. Single. Time. I really should know by now. I idled the time waiting for the 52 watching a couple of dozen sand martins hawking over the river, a pair of tufted ducks by the bank and the mallards and black-headed loafing on the shingle banks downstream. A lunatic voice in my head told me I could have walked here from Drinkwater Park…

Southport

Juvenile avocets, Marshside

It was another offer of a cool, cloudy day with a high pollen count so I scuttled off to the seaside in the hopes a sea breeze might be a mitigating factor. I got to Marshside just before lunchtime and though there was moisture in the air it kept dry and even became warmer and sunny as the afternoon progressed. 

I'd got the 44 from Southport Station and was soon walking down Marshside Road. The house sparrows and goldfinches were busy in the roadside hedges and house martins hawked low overhead. The marshes were a tale of two halves: boggy and still with large pools on the left, dried out on the right, busy with birds right up to the roadside on the left, distant on the right.

To my right there were grazing woodpigeons, family groups of Canada geese, dozing shelducks and a few little egrets in damp creeks and gullies before the black-headed gull colony at Sandgrounders. Small flocks of starlings flitted about and dozens of swifts swooped and hawked over the marsh.

This black-headed gull decided I was too near its nest and kept mobbing me despite the fact I was walking along the other side of Marshside Road to that part of the marsh.

Over on the other side of the road nesting black-headed gulls vied with redshanks and lapwings for who could make the most noise whenever a large gull passed by. A couple of pairs took exception to my walking by on the other side of the road. Coots had fair-sized juveniles with them, the Canada geese had half-sized goslings, mallards and gadwall had ducklings eager to give their new flight feathers a good wagging. One gadwall had a dozen large ducklings with her, possibly because they didn't all go wandering off in all directions like mallard ducklings do.

Gadwall and ducklings, Marshside

Gadwall ducklings, Marshside

A crowd of mute swans dozed over on the pools by Nels Hide. I could see the pair of black swans but no sign of any cygnets, scarcely surprising as I could only see the tops of the adults' heads in the tall grass.

A crowd of black-tailed godwits, glowing rusty red in the light, loafed and twittered on a grassy bank over by the Junction Pool. Closer to hand the redshanks and lapwings on the marsh were joined by avocets, a few of which seemed to be sitting on nests. A rather magnificent ruff with a combination of a snow white ruff with a bright ginger crown, flew a few yards before disappearing out of sight in the grass.

Black-tailed godwits, black-headed gulls and tufted ducks at the Junction Pool

There was a crowd of black-headed gulls at the Junction Pool with a few pairs of tufted ducks and a few coots and mallards. 

Pyramidal orchid, Marshside

As I walked over to Sandgrounders I kept an ear on the singing skylarks, whitethroats and sedge warblers and an eye on the verges and banks for any signs of bee orchids. I was probably a week late for the flowers but I could see no sign of leaves or stems where I saw them flowering last year, nor where they were the year before. I had the consolation prize of a few clumps of pyramidal orchid. Here and there the verges were pink with restharrow or yellow with mustard and vetchlings. The dewberries have bounced back from last year's strimming and the number of flowers bode well for a good crop of my favourite wild fruit, I can never resist picking one or two when I walk past.

Dewberry, Marshside

The large pool by Sandgrounders was almost wall to wall Canada goose. A few pied wagtails, including a couple of youngsters, flitted by the banks, a couple of coots barged their way by and a cormorant preened on the corner of an island. Even a loafing great black-back looked cowed by the crowd.

Juvenile black-headed gulls, Marshside

There wasn't a crowd at Sandgrounders but there was plenty about. Most of the young black-headed gulls were at the flying stage though with varying degrees of confidence or competence. There was still a handful at that stage of growth and moult where they might be mistaken for some exotic plover flown in unexpected. The large gulls don't seem to go through a stage where they show they're related to waders.

Juvenile black-headed gulls, Marshside

Tufted ducks and a rather stroppy avocet, Marshside

Pairs of tufted ducks and shelducks cruised around, much to the annoyance of the avocets which were ready to take exception to everything and anything. As ducks go tufted ducks are fairly easy going but a couple of times one of the drakes had to snap back to put an avocet back in its box.

Tufted ducks and a rather stroppy avocet, Marshside

Tufted duck and a rather stroppy avocet, Marshside

There was plenty of excuse for the avocets: there were a couple of dozen youngsters about and they were wandering freely as they fed on the pools and creeks. They weren't quite ready for flying but didn't have long to wait by the look of them.

Juvenile avocet, Marshside

Juvenile avocet, Marshside

Juvenile avocets, Marshside

Juvenile avocets, Marshside

Black-headed gulls, Marshside
The crouching posture of the two birds on the left is a threat display.

I hadn't walked thirty yards from Sandgrounders when I found a bee orchid growing on the bank. I was glad to have found one, they are rather lovely.

Bee orchid, Marshside

Bee orchid, Marshside
Same plant, different side.

Juvenile avocets, Marshside

Further along there were more avocets in the creeks and drains of the marsh including a couple of pairs of very young birds closely supervised by their parents. A pair of tufted ducks had a crowd of ducklings, including a couple of mallards that had either been sneaked into the nest as eggs or tagged along for the ride as ducklings. Ducks are given to laying eggs in other ducks' nests, it's a sort of insurance policy.

Lapwing attacking a black-headed gull, Crossens Marsh
I'm surprised I managed to get this much of the fast-moving dogfight in the frame.

The avocets weren't the only anxious parents chasing away intruders. Black-headed gulls harassed large gulls, literally battering them about the head as they flew by, and lapwings harassed any black-headed gulls that flew too close.

Over on the outer marsh there were little egrets, shelducks and avocets on all the pools. Meadow pipits, skylarks, linnets and goldfinches flitted about, a few mipits and skylarks sang. A couple of reed buntings had beaks full of insects as they flew by. By far the most conspicuous birds out there were the swifts, over a hundred of them and all of them flying low over the marsh.

Crossens Inner Marsh

I decided to stay on the inner side of Marine Way. Looking over at Crossens Outer Marsh anything that wasn't little egrets was starling and there weren't any geese in sight. The inner marsh was busier, Canada geese had groups of large fluffy goslings in tow, the non-breeding black-headed gulls and some of the more precocious youngsters loafed on pools, coots and avocets supervised small youngsters and the young lapwings were nearly full-sized.

Thick-legged flower beetle on hawkweed

The wind died down and it became warmer. Whitethroats sang in elderberry bushes, wrens sang in patches of brambles. By the time I got to the water treatment works and its teeming swifts the hayfever was kicking in so I called it quits. I'd spent more than a couple of hours nosying about so I didn't feel too guilty about folding early. It had been a good walk and there was no need to spoil it. I walked into Crossens, got the bus back into Southport and had one of those eventful train journeys that starts with a slight delay while the police detain a suspect then meets a succession of red signals all the way back.

Mosses

Roebuck, Chat Moss

I had such plans for the day but when the cat woke me for the third time I found I'd overslept and had missed the train for plan A and would have to have a panic on for plan B. So I had a proper breakfast and pondered what to do with what threatened to be a cool but sunny day. The local buses didn't seem to be running again so I got the lunchtime train to Irlam, caught the 100 bus, got off at Merlin Road and walked over the motorway onto Chat Moss.

Cutnook Lane 

It was one of those bright cloudy days that would have been lovely but for the cold wind. Walking in the tree-lined shelter of Cutnook Lane I was overdressed, out in the open I was glad of it. The hedgerows felt quiet even though there were plenty of birds singing in the trees. Blackbirds, blackcaps, chiffchaffs, robins, dunnocks and song thrushes sang but there weren't the usual rummagings about in the bushes by titmice, finches and sparrows.

Chat Moss 

I got to the junction with Twelve Yards Road and carried straight down the path that eventually leads to the railway though I've never followed it that far. Blackcaps, wrens and chaffinches sang in the trees. I hadn't gone far when I noticed what I thought was the rear end of a Labrador retriever snuffling round the edge of the path ahead. I was wondering where its owner was when it raised its head and trotted down the path, revealing itself to be a roebuck. We stared at each other for the best part of a minute before it decided to move on into the birch scrub.

My reaching the birch scrub coincided with the first singing willow warblers of the afternoon. The pools beyond the scrub were mostly memories, occasionally I could see a patch of grey water and a mallard or two. 

Croxden's Moss 

I got to the point where this path crosses the path I usually take parallel to Twelve Yards Road and decided to carry on for a bit to have a look at Croxden's Moss. I don't usually bother more than a glance, there'll be some carrion crows and a passing gull, but I thought I'd pay it a bit more attention just in case. I also thought I'd give the roebuck I saw trotting down that usual path five minutes' grace before going down that way. There were some carrion crows and a passing lesser black-back. A four-spotted chaser zipped across the scrubby bit of grass by the path and willow warblers and a blackcap sang from the trees further on.

Four-spotted chaser, Chat Moss

Common darter, Chat Moss

Blue-tailed damselfly, Chat Moss

I retraced my steps and turned onto the path through the scrub. It was warm enough for dragonflies but not, apparently, for butterflies. More four-spotted chasers, some common blue damselflies, my first common hawker and common darters of the year dashed about the nettles and willow scrub. Willow warblers, blackcaps and chaffinches sang in the trees. I'd gone a way along when a large white fluttered by. My sense of relief reflects what has been a poor season for butterflies. A hundred yards down the path a speckled wood came over to give me a good staring-at and I almost hugged it.

Speckled wood, Chat Moss

I picked my way through the trees to the big pool where a few black-headed gulls were making a noise and a couple of dozen lapwings were quietly loafing. A pair of tufted ducks drifted on the water, the drake coming into eclipse plumage with plenty of dark feathers showing through the white. I scanned round in vain for other waders, it's a bit early for green sandpipers or a wood sandpiper but you live on hope. Teal were heard but difficult to find, I just found the one duck dabbling under the roots of a tree. Dabchicks were heard and seen, as were their couple of tiny humbugs. The moorhen chicks bobbing around nearby were small and round enough to almost pass as dabchicks at first glance. I had to tiptoe round some passing toadlets on the path.

Tufted ducks and lapwings, Chat Moss

I carried on down the path into open country. My first deerfly of the year got me in the back of the neck a split second before I got it. Whitethroats sang in the hedgerows, woodpigeons foraged in the fields, a yellowhammer — the first here in ages — sang from a farmyard, and swallows and swifts zipped about overhead. I had a close encounter with the usual female marsh harrier, she floated low over the path perhaps twenty yards ahead and by the time I'd reacted and reached for the camera she was disappearing over the hedgerow on the other side of the field. The male kestrel was busy patrolling the fields, it sounds like there are hungry mouths in the nest.

Twelve Yards Road 

I passed Four Lanes End and found myself heading for Little Woolden Moss. I wouldn't like you to think I have any agency in these matters, I just go where the legs take me. Willows warblers, blackcaps and wrens sang in the trees by the entrance and a curlew flew out of the reserve and over towards the turf fields. 

Cotton grass, Little Woolden Moss

It was another of those days where the moss can be generous if you put the work in. A dozen or so lapwings, including a couple of youngsters only just in flying condition, loafed on the bunds. A few Canada geese grazed the banks, pied wagtails flitted about, oystercatchers barrelled in and out, black-headed gulls quarrelled, passing lesser black-backs were carefully monitored by dozens of avian eyes. There was a constant flitting about of small brown birds, mostly linnets and meadow pipits with a good number of reed buntings and a few skylarks and you couldn't walk twenty paces without hearing another singing willow warbler. A noggly bit on a dead birch tree a way out in the heath turned out to be a hobby watching the ground for its next meal.

Hobby, Little Woolden Moss

Little Woolden Moss

Lapwings, Little Woolden Moss

I headed down New Moss Road to catch the 100 bus back to the Trafford Centre from Cadishead. Flocks of lapwings and woodpigeons littered the fields, joined by small clouds of starlings. Black-headed gulls poked about on newly-scalped patches and thrushes — song, mistle and blackbirds — skittled about between the crowds.

New Moss Wood 

I took a detour into New Moss Wood where the chiffchaffs, song thrushes and blackbirds drowned out the shrieks of jays and the demented bubbling of nuthatches.

Jay, New Moss Wood

I got the bus back to the Trafford Centre and the 250 as far as St Modwens Road for to walk home through the park. Three song thrushes were having a singing duel from the three trees near the steps up to the old railway line. It was as noisy as it was confusing and as confusing as it was noisy. I thought there were only two territories here separated by a hundred yards of brambles and goldenrod. The third, I suspect, had flown across the road from Brightgate Way just to put a marker down for the trees in the lorry yard by the steps.