Blue Spotted Tail.

 

There was an item on Springwatch last night with lots of unusual nesting sites. The one above is the pole of a sign on the way into Heaton Park where blue tits were nesting. We passed it a couple of weeks back and could hear the chicks twittering inside.  On passing earlier this week, The Youngest was hoyed up for a look see and reported back that it smelled disgusting but there was nothing in there. I hope they survived the relentless torrential rain we've been lucky enough to endure here since Easter.

Céleste Boursier-Mougenot at Barbican Centre, London

I realise that this is probably yesterday's pizza for all you savvy, wirelessly-connected, I cover the waterfront , internet types, but I only just saw it. Yes, it's gimmicky, yes it's slight, but seeing and hearing zebra finches (what a beautiful bird) producing better sounds than 99% of current guitar bands seemed to be something worth sharing.

The Book I Read.

 

I was digging around for a good bird book before Christmas and eventually decided upon A Sky Full of Starlings by Stephen Moss, which is an expanded compilation of his birding columns from The Guardian. All in all I enjoyed it, but found that it didn't speak directly to my own limited experiences of birding in the city centre.  There are a few too many 'I was out with so and so, the world's leading expert in...' and car journeys to and from well-stocked birding sites.  It was, however, interesting to read that some birds I take for granted are considered something of a rarity in Somerset, where he is based.  The book overall is enjoyable, with some interesting anecdotes, such as this one about migratory Goldcrests: "It used to be thought that Goldcrests were far too frail to attempt a sea crossing, so when large numbers turned up each autumn on our eastern coasts, it was assumed they had hitched a lift from Scandinavia on the backs of birds such as Short-eared Owls".  I wish I had the artistic skill to illustrate such a theory.

Everything's Gone Green.

Eurasian (Common) Green-winged Teal, originally uploaded by Len Blumin.

Well, it may as well have done for all the use these ruddy colour-blind eyes of mine are for identifying birds. Take the Teal, for example, still hanging around on the Irwell near Peel Park in Salford. My identification notes for him said "Dark head, side-stripe, diff col. tail"; I then had to take that pattern and apply it to various duck-shaped possibilities. In the end, after discarding a small number of possible rarities, for various reasons, I alighted on Mr. Teal. Identification had been made easier because he had The Mrs. with him, and the pair taken together are fairly distinctive.
I've had to learn to use patterns in identification to such a degree that unless the colour on a bird is blatantly one of those I can confidently identify (such as the vivid blue found on the back of a Kingfisher) I don't use it. Identifying a solo redwing, particularly when framed against the bright low sunshine we are currently enjoying, is a right pain in the arse, but my job is made easier if I see 80-100 'redwings' flitting from tree to tree. I don't need to see the red stripe then as I'm very unlikely to see a large flock of thrushes. Am I?
A further wrinkle is the change made in some birds between their Winter and Summer plumage. The Little Grebes on the Irwell also caused me some confusion as they're currently 'between coats'; the darker winter colours are being replaced by the more varied, and lighter shade of their summer outfits.

Thanks to Len Blumin off of flickr for the use of his picture of a Eurasian (Common) Green-winged Teal.

Candy Apple Grey.

Grey Heron, originally uploaded by marcmo.

Despite being greeted by thick, icy fog when I got up this morning, I decided to hop into town early to have a bit of a mooch about on the Irwell. Just over the road from Boddies on the nameless bridge I had my usual look up and down. Up towards Salford, a couple of mallards and a visiting pair of goosander could be picked out on the river. Looking the other way, under the railway bridge, towards Chethams, there seemed to be nothing at all. Until, perched in his usual place on top of a fence on the right, I saw a grey heron. They're such, big, lumbering birds, but they seem to have a supernatural ability to melt into the background, fog or not. This one sometimes perches on the other side of the railway bridge, surveying the passing buses and pedestrians, all seemingly-oblivious to his presence.

Thanks to marcmo on flickr for the use of this great picture of a suitably chilled-out grey heron.

Mojo Kitty.

Spotted on Quay Street on the walk between Peel Park and Dolefield on Wednesday - the route I didn't think I would be taking any more, but which keeps happening. Anyhow, I'm not sure what this poster is all about but it made me smile. Earlier, the gift that is The Irwell coughed up another treat in the shape of a pair of Teal feeding near The Crescent. A first for me on this river.

Incidentally, I am aware that the longer, more considered, posts I hinted at in a January post have not materialised. This is mainly because I have been blogging directly from my phone (I am so 2008) along with  spending nearly every day training in or travelling to and from Dewsbury. All change on Monday, though, as it's back to Manchester and the first day at The Hive.

Chartered Trips.

I've been having conversations with a lot of new colleagues lately. At times talk has turned to my interest in birds. And I've been asked if I am a 'twitcher'. The answer is always no. I don't define myself in that way. In particular I don't buy into the knee-deep in reeds, chartered trips, collector mindset. I prefer to either stumble across birds by accident or visit familiar inner city sites as part of my daily business. So it was that two sights yesterday made me equally happy. The first, a drake Goldeneye in the city centre. The second, the sight of hundreds of gulls coming in to roost at Heaton Park reservoir.

Into The White.

Cybersnow., originally uploaded by mithering.

I've been finding it hard to allocate mental time to this blog recently. First off because it's been Christmas and all that and my time is better spent playing table football and Wii bowling with The Kids. Secondly, because it's been snowing and all that (where have you been?) and my time is better spent making Cyber Snowmen and snow angels with The Kids. And also because it's been snowing and all that, so the week of leave I had to take between Old Job and New Job, the week in which I had so much activity lined up, was destroyed when I had to look after The Kids instead of Indulging Myselfish. Dee Stroyed like a 77 punker.

In the meantime, nothing has happened. A lot. I've 'come out' as myself both on here and on twitter. And I've started my new/old job which means travelling to Dewsbury nearly every day for a month to be trained to do what I already know how to do. (I know it's for The New Kids really, and they seem to be a smart bunch). It was when I was over there today, looking through the folds of one of those blinds that hangs down in strips rather than across - a kind of arsey version of a venetian blind - into a cobbled courtyard, streaked with murky, dirty snow, that I saw a grey wagtail.

It was the first time I've seen one away from water and reminded me that I needed to get cracking on this thing again, and that I need to get some closure on the Boddies to Dolefield / Peel Park to Dolefield adventure I closed on Christmas Eve so that when The Hive does eventually open I can begin again.

Nine to Five. Overtime.

Mistle Thrush, originally uploaded by NEdwards1.

Following on from the theme of the post from November 24th, the shifting pattern of bird dominance has seen the mistle thrush lurch into the limelight recently. There are a particularly beautiful and prominent pair who hang about in and around the hidden little park between Chapel Street and East Ordsall Lane in Salford. The recent bright sunshine brought them both out into the trees, onto the balcony of the flats opposite and, one morning, onto a street lamp high above the Chapel Street morning rush hour traffic.

Thanks to NEdwards1 for the photo.

A Dazzling Array of Talent.

Reed Bunting posing, originally uploaded by Steve_C.

As the FC United game against Kendal was called off yesterday due to a waterlogged pitch at Gigg Lane we all headed off to Pennington Flash for a bit of a walk and some birding.

It's a great place for The Kids as there a number of accessible hides, a small play area and a chip van, so it's possible to get them interested without seeming to hit them over the head.

The easiest and most 'spectacular' hide is The Bunting Hide, in front of which food is left out in Winter. This leads to a parade of some of the most beautiful birds we have out there - the Bullfinches in particular looked as if they just been into make-up to have their colours touched-up. There were also the usual sights - bright robins, greenfinches (there was a dead one on the floor of the hide which provoked some interest from My Young Ghouls), chaffinches, dunnocks, blackbirds and even a pair of mute swans which had made themselves at home in what can only be described as the small puddle underneath the tables.

It was all wonderful to see, but there was a feeling that I was shooting fish in a barrel. Not to the extent I've felt it at some nature reserves, but it still felt as if seeing birds there was not as satisfying as when I see them 'on the hoof' and in an urban setting. I think that a large part of the joy I get from seeing birds in Manchester or Salford is the knowledge of how run-down, dowdy and poisonous the areas had been in the past.

Six months ago I wrote, with breathless excitement, about seeing a Kingfisher shoot under Victoria Bridge adjacent to the site of the old Victoria Bus Station. On Friday, my perceptions heightened through the use of my Kingfishervision super-power, I leant over from the Salford-side, old tax office to my rear and looked down into the scrubbage which has grown on the bank down there, inaccessible to all. From towards Albert Bridge something approached, and my first thoughts were that it was a blue tit, as I've seen them hopping to and fro on the weeds. Instead, it was another Kingfisher, which landed just below me and proceeded to stare into the water.

It was raining quite heavily and a cold wind, aided by the intensity of my staring, forced tears from my eyes which made it difficult to watch, but I persevered for a few minutes until it upped and flew under the bridge. I crossed and looked down again until I spotted it. This time I was able to use my small, cheap binoculars to get a look straight at it. Unromantically, it squirted out a shot of white feces, then dropped briefly into the water. After it emerged empty-beaked, it headed off again, up towards Chethams.

I headed off to work.

Thanks to Steve C on flickr for this lovely shot of a male Reed Bunting, which was part of the dazzling array of talent on view at Pennington Flash.

Nine to Five.

Papa Blackbird, originally uploaded by LuLu Witch.

If I opened up the BBC News website one day, and discovered a link to a story which said that scientists had conclusively proved that birds operate a shift system I wouldn’t be in the slightest bit surprised. It was something that I first started noticing when I was pushing my eldest son around Heaton Park on a daily basis, back in the Summer of 2001 when he was brand new and all that.

On different days and at different times there would be a noticeable surfeit of one species of bird in particular. One day it might be blue tits, other days, robins, twittering across the paths, breaking the daytime silence. Half an hour later, another species would be in the ascendancy. I’m sure that there’s a logical and no doubt scientific explanation for it, but it always felt like they were taking turns, clocking on and off duty, as the day went by.

I was put in mind of this early today when walking to work between Salford University and Manchester House I was confronted by a small army of blackbirds. Male, female, on paths, in bushes, up trees, static and scattering to the four winds as I passed by. Normally, I may see one or two, but today was definitely their day at the coalface.

I also had happy encounters with a pair of Little Grebes - a male by the abandoned footbridge, and a tiny female bobbing up and down into the water by The Old Pint Pot, and a Kingfisher skirting the Manchester bank of the river as I peered over the metal and wood-barrier round the back of Café Rouge in Spinningfields.

Thanks to LuLu Witch on Flickr for this great photograph of 'Papa Blackbird' in Sheffield.

Islands In The Stream.

Grey Wagtail, originally uploaded by nickpix2009.

Last week’s relentless and heavy downpours meant that the water levels in The Irwell rose quite dramatically. It also meant that many of the usual birds to be spotted, either in the river or on the bank, were taking shelter elsewhere. The Grey Wagtails which feed between Victoria Bridge and the Irwell Street Bridge came up with a novel way to ensure they got their fill. In the river, vast islands of debris, comprised of garden waste, twigs, furniture, and an inordinately large number of footballs, careered, Laputa-like towards the sea at great speed. As they passed, the wagtails would fly aboard, then rapidly bob around searching for insects, before disembarking further down the river.

Thanks to nickpix2009 on flickr for this picture of a grey wagtail.

Ebony and Ivory.

Cormorant in the Trees, originally uploaded by rutthenut.

I walked back up to Salford University along The Crescent yesterday afternoon and noted the cormorants coming in to roost in the trees across the river, opposite the back end of Maxwell Hall. In retrospect, what I thought might have been a variant crow with white on its wings (see previous post) could, in fact, have been a young cormorant, given that the incident occurred only a few hundred yards from the roost. I'll have another look this morning on my way in.

Thanks to rutthenut on flickr for the super photo of a cormorant in a tree (although this chap is in Surrey).

The Streak.

IMG_1760, originally uploaded by melvinheng.

I went through the first 44 years of my life only managing to see two; more recently I began to notice flashes of colour out of the side of my eye, now I can barely look at The Irwell between Peel Park and Boddies without seeing Kingfishers. It reminds me of the time when my mother-in-law was slightly obsessed with those magic eye 3D images that were all the rage a few years back. I looked and I looked and I couldn't see anything. One day she said, just defocus your eyes while looking at one. I did. WOW! A 3D cowboy on a horse. From then on whenever I was looking at one I'd just go 'doink', and defocus my eyes. Two seconds later, there was the image in full effect.

It's like that with the Kingfishers, as if my eyes and my brain suddenly worked out how to go 'doink' so I could see them. This has meant over the past three or four weeks I've been seeing them almost as often as I see the Grey Wagtails, and more often than the Goosanders. Best of all was this morning when I was looking from inside Peel Park towards the opposite bank of the river and heard the now familiar twitter-gargle they make - a bit like a more high-pitched finch song. My eyes went 'doink' and I found it heading up towards Castle Irwell, low above the water. When it reached the gated and locked footbridge, which no longer takes students over the river between Salford University campusses, it turned and headed back, landing about twenty feet in front of me on the concrete riverbank. I tried to get a better look with the binoculars but the movement must have disturbed it and it flew off.

Earlier, I'd been looking from the bridge described above and heard a commotion among some carrion crows in trees on the far bank. Some swooped out and swooped into the foliage, again and again, calling angrily. They were obviously mobbing something. I tried to see clearer what it was, but as I only use a pair of 10x25 bought from Walmart in Canada purely functional compact binoculars it was difficult, but it looked a crow with a thin white stripe along each upper wing. I couldn't get a clear enough view as it, and they, kept moving, but I can only presume it was a crow with a few stray, mutant white feathers. Further along, and now opposite the tree, I looked again, but this time they seemed to be working out their anger on a smaller, brown bird, possibly one of the sparrowhawks which can be seen along there.

Following on from this blog's first anniversary at the weekend I've decided to post a few more of these longer, more city centre nature-focussed pieces, and also to source more photographs from Creative Commons (as I'm never going to get good wildlife photographs). So, thanks to Melvin Heng for the usage of the photograph.

Little Creatures.

Little Creatures., originally uploaded by mithering.

Just a few tiny things to catch up on.

First up, I’ve now seen Kingfishers on the Irwell in town/Salford two mornings in a row. Yesterday, two shot under Millennium Bridge, near Salford's five-star Lowry Hotel, heading towards Victoria Bridge at quite a pace. This morning, as I sped along The Crescent towards The Old Pint Pot, I saw one heading in the counter direction following the course of The Irwell, low above the river, towards Castle Irwell. Their colours seemed more muted than previous viewings, and I’m not sure if this was because they were juveniles (I hope not, it’s getting cold) or because their colours flare or wane according to seasonal need.

Second, there’s a new issue of Under The Boardwalk out. Under The Boardwalk, FC United's Fanzine! Get one while there are still some left, or download an excerpt, from http://www.undertheboardwalk.net/

Thirdly, I’ve added a Library Thing widget to this blog, and decided to theme it. Have I got 200 graphic literature books? You’re going to find out soon enough.

Finally, a quick plug for little adele - funemployed , a blog put together by one of the wittiest people I know to detail the journey from restructure to relief. Or something like that…

Kool Thing.

lil'cutie goes it alone, originally uploaded by mithering.

Not had the time/inclination to blog of late. Been doing other stuff. Out and about in the real world stuff, scanning and manipulating stuff, ripping and sharing stuff.

In the meantime, here's a picture of a Coot chick.

Up Against The Wall VIII: Slates, Slags Etc.

Up Against The Wall VIII: Slates, Slags Etc., originally uploaded by mithering.

"Slags go Prestwich! haha", back seat of The Village Bus.

Male slags...
In the cold nearly old ska Jamaican dawn
Dead publisher's sons
Material hardship pawns
The Beat, Wah! Heat
Male slags...

The first Village Bus of the day runs past the bottom of my street at 7.55, the last one leaves Shudehill Interchange at 17.27. A single fare is more expensive than a single fare on the other buses which get me home, or into town, but a day pass is notably cheaper. Ho, and also Hum, you say, but the good thing about The Village Bus is that there's only one an hour, which takes a lot of the randomness and pain out of journeys into and out of town. I have to be in the Interchange at a twenty-seven minutes past the hour, or waiting on Heywood Road at five-to. Previously, when I took the 135, "Bus of the Stars", I would turn up at a bus stop and wait, sometimes for up to twenty minutes, whereupon one, two or even three would turn up at the same time and stutter into town, picking up and dropping off at virtually every stop along the way.

In more recent times, before I discovered the mono-glory of The Village Bus, I had started getting the 137, the 135's shorter, less glamorous cousin, from a stop near Blackfriar's Bridge. This runs every twenty minutes, which was good for organising my life, but less good when it didn't turn up. Which was often.

Now, I take The Village Bus as far as the site of the old Boddies Brewery cross Great Ducie Street and head onto New Bridge Street to stare at wildlife from the runtish bridge which crosses The Irwell there. It's a fairly deserted spot - most of the activity along there comes from cars heading towards the crofts of car parks - and I've been lucky enough to watch an American Mink climb up and down the bankside vegetation, searching for something or other, herons fishing, fish-jumping and bizarrely, but weirdly appropriately, a moorhen chasing a rat.

Never Been In A Riot.

Never Been In A Riot., originally uploaded by mithering.

I've generally fought shy of posting Visual Arts related stuff here due to the nature of my job, but I've hit upon a compromise. From this point on I will only blog visual arts material which is, in some way, about birds. Might as well combine the two.

This piece is from a group drawing show at Bluecoat in Liverpool, entitled End of the Line: attitudes in drawing. Due to a prior commitment and my lazy nature I'd not managed to get up the stairs to this particular element of the show (having seen the rest of it earlier) until this past Friday. This was a shame, as this playful installation by Garrett Phelan, 'Battle for the Birds.' , 2008, takes the idea of an Avian Liberation Front and runs with it as a pre-Digital, wing-crafted, homage to Old School protest movements. There's also something of the uneasy glamour of vintage British war comics, with hand-drawn portraits of the various corvid military personnel central to The Struggle.

The show finishes in The Bluecoat on July 19th, but is touring to The Fruitmarket in Edinburgh later in the year.

From The Banks Of The River Irwell...

Goosander on the Irwell - Manchester / Salford border, originally uploaded by mithering.

To the shores of Sicily
We will fight, fight, fight for United
Til we win The Football League
To Hell with Liverpool
To Hell with Man City
We will fight, fight, fight for United
Til we win The Football League.

Last week's beauty contest winner - a male goosander on The Irwell, just behind that Light Shop opposite the 'stage door' entrance of The MEN Arena, next to the biggest puddle in the north west (check it out!). He'd brought along 'the kids', a pair of chicks, hugging the Salford side of the bank, singing the above lyric. This morning a gaggle of Canada Geese fussed about their young, who were singing 'Bertie Mee said to Matt Busby' while pretending to be knocked off their perches.

Round and Round.

Mmmm... meat, originally uploaded by mithering.

Five posts in and it's [MES]repetition repetition repetition[/MES]. The peregrines have either finished their peregrination or they never went away. I've spotted them twice in town this week. First, Monday morning, having taken a detour via Victoria Bridge (adjacent to the old Victoria Bus Station for Old Heads) to check out The Irwell for herons, I looked up and saw one doing a circuit round the old tax office and the cathedral. It then landed on the building (in Salford) I suspect they're nesting on. Being called Peregrine and living in Salford must be character-building. The avian equivalent of 'A Boy Called Sue'.

Then today, at dinnertime, walking up John Dalton Street on my way to Piccadilly railway station, up above moved that fantastic gliding t-shape. I looked around and nobody else seemed to have seen it. People just going about their business don't look up at the sky unless there's something terrible up there. (Which there is, if you're a small mammal, or a smaller bird, or a less aggressive bird (pretty much any bird, then)).

Second case of [MES]repetition repetition repetition[/MES] is a bus thing, harking back to my first post way back last month. If I could have any super power beyond the totally godlike ones, I'd have to go for one which guaranteed I arrived at a bus stop at the exact moment a bus arrived. I realise this is probably An Urban Power Fantasy, reserved for people who have a pretty regular bus service, but we all have our weaknesses.

(The photograph is one which I took at The Railway Inn in Hucknall, Notts, on an away trip to watch FC United. If I'd had a usable photo of a peregrine that would have pride of place, but I don't. When I do, it'll be here first).