Football stopped play

Blackbird 

You just know I'm going to spend this week complaining about the rain, don't you. 

Despite the weather, upon reviewing the planned options for the day I decided that a bank holiday Monday at the seaside during half-term wasn't the way to avoid the crowds. The decision was confirmed when I noticed they'd made Liverpool's Premiership victory bus tour into an all-day event, with consequent impacts on travelling through Merseyside, which is fair do's I suppose, they don't get to do it often these days.

Spadgeling

I caught the blue tits coming into the back garden for a visit to the fat feeder. The adults look tired and I'm not surprised: there were six youngsters bouncing about in the sycamores. The young spadgers are allowed out on their own. They weren't too happy, though, when one of the woodpigeons pushed them off the fat feeder. It took them a good five minutes to convince themselves it was safe to barge past it. On the other hand it took them less than a minute to realise I was refiling the sunflower seeds and they hardly waited for me to go.

Woodpigeon and house sparrows 

The wren family was in evidence at the station, the chicks little brown balls of fluff not a lot bigger than the bumblebees they rubbed shoulders with in the brambles.

I'd decided on a walk on the Salford mosses, despite the rain. If the worst came to the worst I could just go up Astley Road and back down Roscoe Road, I might even catch sight of the partridges I haven't been seeing round there lately. The train was delayed, which it always is. The late-running express to Liverpool eventually steamed through. The local train still showed delayed, "due to a sporting event," which I assume was the victory parade. The rain got heavier. By the time the train was running half an hour late and still showing "delayed" I took the hint and squelched off home.

On the plus side, I found where the nearest swifts are nesting.

I spent the afternoon submitting Delay Repay compensation claims.

Lazy Saturday

The rain started just after eleven last night and there was enough of it to refill the bird baths. This was the cue for the arrival of a dozen large gulls, mostly lesser black-backs, on the school playing field this morning. More herring gulls drifted in over lunchtime and when it started raining again for ten minutes later in the afternoon there were a couple of dozen of them dancing for worms, much to the consternation of the grazing woodpigeons.

Although it was a very grey day it was mild and looked okay for a walk. I decided against it, I'm in one of those moods where I'd turn a pleasant walk into a quest to beat arbitrary targets for this, that and the other and that would take the joy out of it. It's unlikely I won't add the remaining fifteen species to the year list to get to two hundred, I've seen a hundred and twelve species this month, targets sorted, calm down lad it's supposed to be fun.

So I had a quiet day and did next week's big shop a couple of days early. The blackbirds and the robin and the wren sang. The spadgers ransacked the bird feeders. And the great tits brought two youngsters in, showed them where the sunflower feeders were and let them get on with it. The spadgers, robins, starlings and woodpigeons all have youngsters in tow; the young jackdaws will be turning out any day now, it's been a productive few weeks. 

I've not knowingly seen any young magpies but I've half an idea they left the nest about the same time as the big gang of teenage magpies were last strutting their stuff on the field a couple of weeks back. The gang looked even bigger than usual — thirty-odd birds — and may have been supplemented by new youngsters. The gang's gone walkabout along the Mersey to join the flocks of magpies, rooks and jackdaws in the fields and the Bradley Road roost for the Summer.

Lancashire bumper bundle

Marsh harrier, Leighton Moss 

The bouncing about in the blackcurrant bushes first thing was a juvenile robin being supervised by both parents, which is nice. The spadgers and goldfinches are doing a good job of depleting the sunflower seed feeders, which is a good thing. And me and the cat had a row, which is a bad thing but the magpies and woodpigeons got a fish supper out of it.

It was a nice, summery sort of day with bits of light cloud and a cooling breeze. It's supposed to be raining tomorrow so I thought I'd have a trip out to Leighton Moss and try and see some marsh tits, I always struggle with them this time of year when it's the invisible titmouse season.

Four spoonbills stood in the pool by the Eric Morecambe Hide as the train slowed down for Silverdale. Typically, they were asleep (the lively ones in Southport are very much the exception in my experience). The fidgety avocets and black-headed gulls redressed the balance.

Leighton Moss was busy with birds and people and I gave the Hideout a miss. The school party that was visiting were brilliant, very quiet and well-behaved, and the grown-ups with them were remembering to do inside voice so as not to scare the birds. Robins, wrens, blackcaps and chiffchaffs sang in the trees around the visitor centre, mallards puttered about the picnic area blackbirds rummaged in the leaf litter and woodpigeons clattered about the treetops.

At Lilian's Hide 

The black-headed gulls were sitting on nests at Lilian's Hide though it was a struggle to see them in the grass on the rafts. For once the most numerous ducks on the pool were pochards, about a dozen of them compared to the handfuls of mallards, gadwalls and tufted ducks. Coots had youngsters in tow. The usual mute swans were nowhere to be seen. A couple of very noisy pairs of dabchicks bobbed about near the pochards but didn't follow them down when they dived. A sleek brown shape breaking water before diving again turned out to be a great crested grebe unsuccessfully trying to grab an eel. A female marsh harrier drifted over the reedbed over near the causeway then disappeared into the reeds.

Blue-tailed damselfly 

Stretches of the path to the reedbeds was festooned with willow down and every twig, branch or tussock of rushes was dressed for Halloween. I can't remember a year when there has been such a huge quantity of it, possibly a combination of weather-induced stresses encouraging more flowers and a warm, dry Spring providing plenty of pollinating insects. The most conspicuous insects were the common blue damselflies and blue-tailed damselflies zipping around at ankle height or sunning themselves on the path. A few large whites and speckled woods fluttered about the willows but they were few and far between.

Festooned with willow down

By the path to the reedbed

It was a quiet walk into the reeds. There was the quiet buzzing of hungry youngsters as families of blue tits and great tits moved through the willows. A Cetti's warbler sang by the sky tower, a chiffchaff sang in the trees by the field, a willow warbler sang in the trees at the corner where the path joins the reedbeds and a reed warbler sang in the reeds directly opposite. Otherwise the birds silently got on with their business under cover of leaves, even the usually very pushy robins were keeping a low profile.

The main drain through the reeds

There were more reed warblers and another Cetti's warbler singing in the reedbeds. Reed buntings flitted to and fro, too busy to stop. A few swifts hawked overhead, there was a distinct lack of hirundines. Besides the damselflies a few large whites and a green veined white dashed about the reed edges and craneflies careered about in ungainly fashion.

Nesting oystercatcher 

It was fairly quiet at Tim Jackson's Hide, too. A dozen or so gadwalls and a few mallards silently dabbled. I looked in vain for any of the teals or shovelers that are usually a feature of this pool. Teal in particular do a very comprehensive vanishing job this time of year. A lapwing called every so often as it fed by the pool edge. The oystercatchers are nesting in the corner of the roof of the sand martin box that the black-headed gulls claimed last year. The nesting bird sat quietly most of the time. Its mate flew in and joined the lapwing for a few minutes, a crow got too close to the nest, the nesting bird piped quietly just once and all of a sudden the crow was being driven off by a furious oystercatcher. Excitement over, things settled back into premature midsummer somnolence with just the buzzing of broad-bodied chasers and bee-mimic hoverflies to break the silence.

Nesting great black-backs 

I walked down to the Griesdale Hide past a reed warbler singing in a tree, another singing more conventionally in the reeds and a Cetti's warbler singing by the hide. At first glance it was very quiet out on the pool, a second glance spotted the couple of dozen gadwalls loafing on the banks with the dried mud matching the browns and greys of their plumage. The great black-backs were nesting again on the osprey platform and looked a picture of domestic bliss.

Marsh harrier 

A female marsh harrier floated in and provided a hint of the birdlife hidden in the depths of the reeds. Lapwings, black-headed gulls and jackdaws flew up in panic as it passed by. It was eventually chased off by greylag geese.

Marsh harrier 

Marsh harrier 

All the while a handful of red deer were sitting on the bankside idly chewing grass.

Red deer

Common blue damselfly

I wandered back, tiptoeing round the damselflies as I went. I was sure that all the common blue damselflies weren't common blue damselflies but it was more by luck than judgement that one doubtful individual stayed still long enough for me to confirm it as an azure damselfly.

Distant twittering alerted me to a handful of swallows dancing around each other high over the level crossing. Perhaps the wet weather promised this weekend will herald more swallows and swifts than I've been seeing this Spring.

Juvenile marsh tit

I'd just passed Lilian's Hide when I noticed some frantic fluttering in the undergrowth. A couple of marsh tit fledglings were badgering their parents for food, following on heel almost, wings fluttering all the while. Well worth the trip on their own.

Juvenile marsh tit

Buoyed by the marsh tits I decided to call it quits. I quite fancied having a long walk down to have a look at the new Lower Hide but with the trains behaving as they have been doing I didn't fancy trying to negotiate the Lancaster connection late on a Friday teatime. The last through train to Manchester for a few hours was due in ten minutes so I got that.

Silverdale Station 

I still had a bit of a walk left in me and I weighed up the connections at Preston and beyond for a likely teatime stroll. They didn't look promising, they all involved long waits for the connecting train. There was only ten minutes to wait for the Colne train at Preston, I remembered that the sign at Cherry Tree Station said: "Alight here for Witton Country Park." So I did. Along the way I had the splendid bonus of seeing a red kite hanging in mid air over the M6 as the train went by somewhere near Barnacre.

Walking down to Witton Country Park 

It's a short walk from the station to Witton Park. I crossed the main road, walked down Geddes Street and followed the footpath down through the trees and onto Tower Road at the playing fields. Remarkably there were nearly fifty carrion crows gathered on the grass at the corner here. I double-checked and triple-checked, they were all carrion crows. I'm always a bit dubious whenever I see double figures of carrion crows, this was ridiculous.

Crow Wood

I had an hour's wander round, which largely involved taking a meandering route through Crow Wood. It was a very pleasant walk. Even though it was a sunny Friday teatime and there were lots of people it didn't feel crowded and there were plenty of birds about. I encountered all the usual woodland species I've been bumping into all week. I'll bear it in mind the next time I'm in the area and have the energy for a bonus walk.

Witton Country Park 

The train back to Preston was cancelled so I got the next Colne train and changed at Blackburn for the next Manchester train.

Alkrington Woods

Alkrington Woods 

I seem to be in a filling in the gaps mood this week. In part it's a reaction to Monday's long trip out but it's mostly because I'm sleeping oddly and getting that sleep when I can, which means I'd be cutting it very fine for the trains out. Today I headed out for a walk through Alkrington Woods, just because. 

It was a cloudier, cooler sort of day, good for walking. I got the train into town and the 18 bus from Oxford Road. This goes through Alkrington to Langley, I'd be getting off just after the M60 for the entrance to the woods on Manchester Road. I'd forgotten how long it takes the bus to get up Rochdale Road, which isn't a function of distance or traffic conditions, it just does. A quarter of a century's experience never worked out just why. It was a relief when we got to Blackley and time started running normally.

I got off the bus a bit puzzled as I'd seen a sign for a public footpath I hadn't noticed before. It was pointing in the right direction and a quick check of the map suggested it should lead into the woods so I gave it a go and walked down the road as indicated. Fifty yards down there was a big metal gate, a lot of "Private property. Keep out" signs and a gated community behind it. There was even a "Do not trespass on this bridge" sign on the bridge over Boardman Brook. 

A dead end

There were gaps in the fence either side of the road with rough paths leading into the woodland by the brook. The most likely one headed North so I tried that first and came to a dead end twenty yards in. The one heading South dropped down ended at the brook. I'd upset some blackbirds, robins, blackcaps and wrens for no good reason. I retraced my steps and walked up Manchester Road to the proper entrance to the woods and it's tree-covered sign.

Crossing the little bridge over the brook to join the path down through the woods it became apparent the path did used to run down to that gap in the fence. It looked like some land had slipped and taken the footpath with it.

I walked along the path by the brook. Most of the songscape was blackbirds and robins, chiffchaffs and blackcaps were thin on the ground. Wrens sang when I passed by. Great tits and blue tits were only seen when they broke cover to barrack magpies.

Boardman Brook 

It was more of the same the length of the brook to where it met the River Irk. I knew the confluence was coming because the brook caught up speed and ring-necked parakeets screeched in the treetops.

The first of the lodges

Coots were nesting on the first of the lodges I came to, otherwise there were just a handful of mallards and a black-headed gull. The pond by the road was busy with Canada geese, mallards and pigeons and a mute swan dozed in one corner.

I still had some legs on me so rather than waiting for the next bus to Manchester (three had sailed by nose to tail as I got to the pond) I decided to walk up to Langley via Bowlee. Again, just because.

By Boardman Lane 

I cut a corner by walking up Boardman Lane to Heywood Old Road and I was glad that I did, despite the traffic doing the same thing. I was soon walking past buttercup-littered meadows busy with woodpigeons, greenfinches and starlings and with hedgerows bustling with spadgers. Somewhere in one of the hawthorn bushes way out in the fields a yellowhammer was singing, which was a nice surprise.

Windermere Walking Path 

On Heywood Old Road there's a shortcut into Langley along the Windermere Walking Path. So I took it. It was an unexpectedly pleasant walk, a grazed hilly pasture on my right and hedgerows rich in hawthorns and dog roses. The hedgerows were heaving with greenfinches, house sparrows, wrens and robins and whitethroats sang from the fields. 

A bald robin

A strange bird bustling about in a tree caught my eye. To my surprise it turned out to be a bald robin, a few orange feathers left on its chest to show it was an adult. It was in two minds whether or not to be shy of me and in the end it decided I wasn't anything so I got a good look at it. A bald bird would usually suggest a mite infestation but although it also didn't have much of a tail the wing feathers looked in good condition. I wondered if it might be an early starter in the post-breeding moult.

Robin

Not all the long-tailed tits were hiding in deep cover. A willow warbler singing in a shallow by the pathside was added to the day's tally.

I walked through the gate at the end and onto Windermere Road with a short walk for the bus stop for the 18 back to Manchester. I've done a lot of work in Langley over the years and often wondered where these paths went.

Ducks: traps for the unwary

While I'm pretty used to the idea that hybrids between two species of ducks can often look very much like a third species I'm not remotely confident that I'd be able to spot it happening if I saw one. It's lucky that the one hybrid duck I know I see regularly — the cinnamon teal x shoveler at Leighton Moss — looks like an Australian shoveler which has a zero possibility of being a wild vagrant.

There was a report yesterday of a possible Baikal teal at St Aiden's. Ten years ago it would have felt vanishingly unlikely to be a wild bird but these days there are one or two seen most Winters. I saw one on the other side of Yorkshire near Beverley a few years back. 

Later in the day it was reported that it wasn't a Baikal teal after all and was most likely a wigeon x shoveler hybrid. I was intrigued, no idea what one of these might look like. So I looked up some examples and can entirely see how the confusion occurred now I've seen these photos. I wouldn't have predicted that head pattern in a million years.

Reddish Vale

Female banded demoiselle

The blackbird started singing absurdly early at quarter to four, the other birds had the sense to wait until daybreak. It had become another cloudless day and I wondered what I was going to do with it. The journey back from Sheffield the other day reminded me that there are a few places of interest along the way within the Stockport boundary. I haven't yet visited the Goyt Valley this year and that's an easy walk from Romiley Station. And I keep telling myself I should visit Reddish Vale, an easy walk from Brinnington. In the end I settled for the latter.

I got off the train at Brinnington, turned right at the station, left at the bottom of the road and then left at the bottom onto Blackberry Close. Opposite the sign for the Transpennine Way I noticed a cut onto a footpath into the country park so I took that and had a wander.

The long-tailed tits weren't for having their photos taken 

I followed the path down through light woodland and glades. Blackcaps, chiffchaffs and blackbirds sang constantly, robins and wrens mostly rummaged about and sang occasionally. Blue tits, great tits and long-tailed tits were phantoms amongst the leaves. A treecreeper broke into song, something I don't hear nearly often enough. Speckled woods chased each other along the bases of the oak trees, red admirals frolicked about nettle patches.

Speckled wood
The butterflies were as camera shy as the titmice.

Walking through the woodland 

First sight of the viaduct

The woodland gave way to open oak and hawthorn scrub and the tall railway viaduct taking the Manchester to Sheffield line across the River Tame. Great tits and blue tits showed themselves as they flitted between bushes, whitethroats sang from the depths. 

Carrion crow 

I reached Brinnington Beach, the shingle bank on the bend of the river. A couple of carrion crows beachcombed, a family of Canada geese dozed, all of them keeping on the opposite bank from the families on the beach, unlike the drake mallards mooching about on the off chance. I decided I wasn't taking any more photos of Canada goslings, it's just winsomeness on false pretenses as they all grow up to be bad-tempered psychopaths.

The viaduct from downstream 

I walked downstream from the viaduct. Large whites fluttered about, mallards dabbled, whitethroats and blackcaps sang, I became concerned about a distinct lack of dragonflies. It's not like there weren't any midges to keep them fed.

Mute cygnets
Even more deceptively winsome than Canada goslings but it's as well not to be rude about them because they can break your nose with one blow of their wing.

Mallards, coots and Canada geese mooched about on the fishing pools and a pair of mute swans kept their cygnets on a tight rein as they pottered about the water side. A black-headed gull scouted round. A couple of coots sat on nests, a couple of pairs had chicks in tow. Unlike goslings and cygnets you know what you're getting with baby coots, they look like that rough kid at school who got ringworm and had to have his head shaved and painted with gentian violet.

Nesting coot

One of the fishing pools

It sounded like a pair of dabchicks had small chicks in the depths of the reeds. I don't often see young dabchicks in their humbug colours and I didn't today, either.

Canada goose family
Well, you've got to in the end.

I rejoined the river and walked upstream opposite the beach. Two families of Canada geese were on the bend now, the original group still dozing by the bank, the other having designs on settling on the beach amongst the children but thinking better of it once a couple of horses walked in for a drink and a paddle.

Common blue damselfly

A blue-tailed damselfly fluttered weakly out of a dog rose bush. I looked for some more and found a pair of banded demoiselles and a handful of common blue damselflies instead. Oddly, all the damselflies I saw today were in this bush.

A meadow by the river

I followed the river through more light woodland and patches of open scrub. A sedge warbler sang from a patch of flag irises in the trees. A garden warbler sang from an oak tree, I'm averaging one garden warbler for every ten or dozen blackcaps in this sort of landscape this year. Song thrushes and chiffchaffs sang by the riverside, whitethroats did their song flights from bushes in the scrub.

Ragged robin

Beyond the M60 motorway the landscape was more open with a few damp patches rich in ragged robins and monkey musk and a small pond almost entirely covered with reedmace and flag iris. Woodpigeons clattered through the trees or grazed in damp meadows in the company of carrion crows, jackdaws and magpies.

Pond by the path to Stockport Road 

I followed the path its length to Stockport Road. The final length ran through light woodland filled with blackbirds, robins and wrens. It was a warm day so the horses that would have been grazing in the fields were sheltering in the shade of the trees. I had to politely push past them to get to the gate out onto the road, it was like trying to negotiate my way past the cat but the horses were more careful about where they were treading.

I walked up the road to the bus stop and didn't have long to wait for the 322 to Stockport. It had been a very pleasant walk on a very warm day.

Longendale Trail

Juvenile robin

I was frankly knackered after yesterday's trip out but I had to get a new monthly travel card (I didn't bother over the weekend as we had no public transport on Sunday and I'd planned on using up the free ride yesterday). Seeing as I was out and seeing as the immediate choice was between the train to Hadfield or the train to Greenfield I chose the former as the walk proper starts round the corner from the station and is dead flat, both being factors for consideration when you're not sure if you're awake or not.

The mid-afternoon train journey out to Hadfield was oddly thin on birds, I was seeing more butterflies and not many of them. The pigeons within the M60 gave way to the jackdaws without and by the time we got to Glossop the woodpigeons were coming back to the trackside trees.

Robin, Hadfield Station 

The collared doves were singing at Hadfield Station and blackbirds, robins and spadgers were rummaging round. I walked round to the car park at the beginning of the trail where woodpigeons and a chiffchaff were singing. Each time I do this I think it a puzzle and a pity the trail doesn't start at the end of the platform in the station.

Approaching the Padfield Main Road bridge

Walking down the trail through the old railway cut was an odd mixture of song and silence. For the most part it was quiet but every so often a woodpigeon, blackbird or wren would sing. A blackcap sang near the car park. A song thrush sang near the bridge. I could hear the contact calls of small birds under leaf cover, mostly robins but also blue tits and great tits. I wondered if there had been rain locally, the trackside stream was running and here and there there was run-off from the cut. 

Blackbird 

Another blackcap sang a little further ahead then a garden warbler joined in, their songs the same but different: the rushed, scratchy quality and lack of bubbling undertones of the garden warbler obviously distinct when the songs are heard together but close enough to the blackcap's tone and tune to easily second-guess if heard on its own. I've heard blackcaps tuning up for a song that sounded very similar for a few seconds.

Juvenile robin 

I'd become used to the robins and blackbirds rummaging in the verges and hopping across the path. One robin was just sat on a twig by the path and it watched me very carefully as I walked by. The reason became immediately clear: a young robin was flying solo and was hunting by the stream under parental supervision.

Bottoms Reservoir 

The jackdaws that had been flying to and fro overhead were feeding in the fields above Bottoms Reservoir with the sheep and Canada geese. A few woodpigeons grazed, a pair of lapwings showed off in display flights, a couple of rooks rummaged about. I wonder where the rest of the rooks are. There were a few more Canada geese on the banks of the reservoir and a handful of black-headed gulls bobbed about on the water. The effects of the recent lack of rain were apparent.

Bottoms Reservoir, showing the effects of a dry Spring

Walking on past Bottoms Reservoir 

Rabbits ran in and out of the bramble patches as I walked by. Chiffchaffs, dunnocks and blackbirds sang in the trees, robins and wrens in the hawthorns. A curlew glided over and headed for the hills. I only managed to see one of the calling pheasants, as it strutted through the gateposts of a dry stone wall.

Looking over to Valehouse Wood

I walked through the trees as far as the seat overlooking this end of Valehouse Reservoir. I'm going to have to give this walk a proper visit, it'll have to be on a Friday when I could get a bus back to Glossop or out to Holmfirth. Still, I'd not done bad for sleepwalking. A swallow twittered its song as it passed, the only one of the day.

Looking back on the way back to Hadfield 

Departing hares

On the way back I was too slow to get a photo of the boxing hares but the rabbits were more accommodating. The rabbits were frankly astonishing, disappearing at the last minute whenever one of the many dogs on a walk snuffled past and reappearing almost as soon as their back legs had passed the entrance of each run.

Rabbit

Walking back to Hadfield 

At Hadfield Station yet another carrion crow gave yet another buzzard a hard time overhead. Apparently I'd missed a little gull and an osprey over Bottoms Reservoir, I didn't mind not having a cherry on top of the cake.

The view over and across Bottoms Reservoir