Crane, adrenaline, and local pride

 

I often complain about my local patches.  It’s not that they’re bad places – in the right light, at the right time of year, they’re beautiful in the context of urban west Manchester, and I am grateful that they haven’t (yet) been concreted over so that corrupt government can milk more cash from a population of exploited and unhappy people.  It’s more the overall geography of where I live that limits expectations.  It’s not coastal.  It’s not on migration routes for the majority of species of birds.  It’s not in a niche microclimate helpful for attracting certain wildlife.  It’s just… average. 

But of late, there’s been something of a purple patch for the patch, and I was singing the praises of the Mosses to friends, nigh on guaranteeing them views of some sought after and scarce birds.  Of course, as soon as you guarantee any bird, it immediately becomes impossible to see, no matter how well staked out their roosts/nests/feeding areas are, and no matter how many hours you put in to seeing them.  When Lee joined me last week to definitely see Grasshopper Warbler, Grey Partridge and a couple of raptor species that he wanted to connect with for the first time, absolutely none of those birds were visible.  It’s an immutable law of nature that the more emphasis you put on showing people around your local patch, the less well your patch performs.  It’s a dependable equation.  A reliable fact. 

We fast forward ten days or so, and try again.  I arrange to meet Lee at the very limited parking area on the east of Little Woolden Moss, having been indecisive about parking at the far end to try for the elusive Corn Bunting, Grey Partridge and Hobby.  If I’d parked there, I would have missed out on one of the very best experiences on patch I’ve ever had!  Arriving at 5.30pm, half an hour early, I decided to walk the northern path and see if I could pick up the Channel Wagtail and Yellowhammer, and maybe Grey Partridge.  We hadn’t planned to walk this path, and would have made a beeline to the west pools at Little Woolden if I hadn’t had this early wander.  As I walked, there was a distinct lack of anything bird wise, and I had that sinking feeling that it might be another night of poor performance.  Then Lapwings began to mob a bird obscured by a thin tree line.  There’s a lot of raptor presence on the Mosses, from owls to Marsh Harrier, to Buzzard, Sparrowhawk, Kestrel, Peregrine, Merlin, Hobby (all in their appropriate seasons), plus herons, Ravens, and large gulls, so I wasn’t in a particular rush to identify this interloper into the Lapwing territories.  But then I caught a glimpse of a silhouette through the tree line – a heron type bird, but huge, with obvious fingers on the wing tips.  I was looking at it from behind as it flew away, but the profile was clear – Crane!

Cranes are not the rarity they used to be.  Various successful release and reintroduction programs in the south west and south east of England mean that there are reasonably regular birds ranging north, but almost always either in Cheshire to the south of my patch, or in Yorkshire way out east.  There have been Cranes over the Mosses each year for a few years now, and the odd one has landed, so it’s not a bolt out of the blue – but the adrenaline rush of seeing this bird come in and land was massive.  I was beginning to worry that people wouldn’t believe that I’d found another decent local bird after last week’s Bee-eater, so I was desperate to get a photograph for proof, and get some other eyes on it!

I began to run (sort of… scope, camera, bins and generally having too many miles in my knees meant it was more of a loping shuffle) while trying to simultaneously send an email to the county recorder, whatsapp my friend to get his location and make him aware, and post on the local forum to try and get more eyes on the bird.  Down the path, out of the reserve, to the tree where the Channel Wagtail has its territory, panting and elated, and there, 150 metres north, mobbed by half a dozen Lapwings stood a magnificent Crane!  Getting it in the scope, I watched for ten minutes until a local birder wandered over to ask if I had anything, and sharing views with him I began to wonder where Lee was.  He called to check he was on the right path, but he had walked the south path and there’s no circular route – he had to walk as fast as possible back and try to connect.  And then the Crane lifted off into the sky.  Panic!  Calling him, trying to get him to check the skyline as he charged around Little Woolden Moss, keeping the Crane in my binoculars my heart was sinking – another amazing bird on patch was about to elude almost everyone… I was relieved when it landed, though it was obscured and in a ditch.  I managed to get back on to the bird’s head ducking as the Lapwings tried to scare it off, and finally got Lee and his mate on to his first Crane.  Sweating, panting, filled with adrenaline, we high-fived and I said “welcome to the patch,” as though this was what it was like every Sunday evening.

Within five minutes the Crane had lifted off and flown north, landing in private land and lost to view.  We spent an hour trying to relocate it, Lee also finding four Grey Partridge, before making our way back to the main site to try and find Grasshopper Warbler (heard only), Woodcock (heard only) and at a site a shortish journey away, Long-eared Owl (two!).  The Crane roosted at Little Woolden Moss and was refound in its original landing spot early on April 28^th.  I’m not aware of any individuals roosting previously (though I'm not the font of knowledge that other long-term birders are), and this is possibly a really positive sign of the spread of a bird that I have always found brings a huge amount of joy to me personally.  There is definitely good habitat for Crane across the Chesire plain and the Mosses, and it wouldn’t surprise me to see them colonise in small numbers in the next ten years.  When I returned to birding in 2019/2020, I had a short list of five bird species that I really wanted to see, and top of that list was Crane.  I’ve seen them at Slimbridge, in the Norfolk Broads, and at Lakenheath Fen, amongst a couple of other locations, but to see one roaming the Manchester Mosses was a thing of beauty. 

The happiness of not only seeing a brilliant local bird, but being the one to find it, and then being able to share it with others, as well as having that little bit of pride in the local patch with my mates visiting… well, that’s pretty much the ideal birding experience as far as I’m concerned.