Now in November nearer comes the sun down the abandoned heaven*

I popped into the city centre for a few bits and pieces. When I walked through Broadgate, the place was getting ready for the Xmas light switch-on which took place the following Wednesday. As the festive season approached, the city centre came to life with twinkling  lights and decorations adorning shops and buildings. At the flick of a switch, a magical winter wonderland appeared.  Late-night shopping  began shortly after the lights were switched on, where shoppers enjoyed a glass of mulled wine and something delicious to eat before buying their Christmas gifts. There were plenty of festive cheer, including music, street theatre, fairground rides plus a busy food and gift market. I am sure everyone embraced the Christmas spirit on the night.

Although we looked forward to the festive season, it was a bit early for us to think of Xmas. We chilled out at our favourite playground to see what the natives were up to. Earlier in the week, Babe was here when he photographed a Peregrine Falcon hunting over the reserve. TO BE UPDATED

Thankfully, the Black Swan was still hanging around with the juvenile Mute swans. I was at work earlier in the week, when Babe called me to say that he'd seen this beauty feeding in the reserve and I hoped that it would stay until the weekend. Black Swans were native to Australia and were the state bird of Western Australia. They were brought to the UK as ornamental birds and like many other captive birds , they occasionally found their way into the wild. They were similar in size to their closely related Mute Swans. They appeared all black when swimming but  had white primary wing feathers, which could be seen in flight. The bill was red with a broad white band on the tip, while the legs and feet were greyish black. They'd the longest neck among the swans and curved in an S shape. When swimming, they held their necks arched or erect and often carried their feathers or wings raised in an aggressive display. We watched this beauty upending in the deeper part of the lake for aquatic and marshland plants.

We were suddenly interrupted by a twitcher who said that he'd spotted a Jack Snipe at Teal Pool. We followed him and scanned the reed-beds at the further end of the pond, nearer to River Pool hide. We sighted a Snipe skulking in the reeds at the top end but unfortunately, it wasn't a Jack Snipe. One of the main characteristic of a Jack Snipe was it had a much shorter bill than a Common Snipe. We'd been trying to find one for ages but so far, we'd never seen one. One day....

We returned back to our seat and the black beauty had swam right to the end of the lake. The long staying Whooper Swans had woken up and started preening and then went back to sleep again. After flying all the way from Iceland to escape the harsh winters, they needed all the sleep they could get. From what we found out, they flew off immediately after sunrise to feed. Nobody knows where but there were plenty of wheat and potato fields in the surrounding area. The crops had already been harvested and they fed on the leftover grains and potatoes left in the fields. After grazing for a couple of hours, they flew back here to rest and roost.

There were also hundreds of Greylags present on the lake. Some were having a leisure swim, others were splashing about in the water, a few preening but a majority were grazing on Wigeon Bank. Mainly vegetarian, they fed on various plant items such as grasses, leaves, roots, stems, fruits and sprouts of numerous plants’ species. I bet the Widgeons weren't happy. Greylags were listed in Schedule 2 of the Wildlife and Countryside Act, meaning they could be killed or taken outside of the close season. They uttered flight-calls such as loud, honking series of notes with repeated deep “aahng-ahng-ung”. When in flocks, the noise was audible at some distance. They foraged by grazing on the ground or in water where they performed “upending” like the ducks.

In the water, a Pintail was dabbling for plant food. There was a discussion whether it was a male or female and Babe pointed out that it was an eclipsed male. Pintails were easily distinguished by their long, pointed tail feathers and long, graceful necks. Males had a chestnut-coloured head, white neck and grey body, while females were mottled brown with smaller, pointed tails. After breeding, they moulted, replacing the old, worn-out feathers with new ones. Eclipse plumage was temporary or transition plumage. For about a month, they couldn't fly and were vulnerable to predators. To provide protection, the bright body feathers were replaced by dowdy brown ones, making them look much like the  females. Once the flight feathers had regrown, they moulted again, and the full colours were back and easily recognisable once more.

We then waited for the sun to set before we left the reserve. As the days grew shorter, the skies at sunset glowed with the most spectacular hues, blooming with pinks, reds and oranges. And as the nights drew in and the sun was setting earlier, it was the perfect opportunity to see these beautiful colours lighting up the evening sky. Throughout the month we had been treated to some spectacular scenes and with the nights pulling in, the sun had been drifting out of sight as early as 4 pm.

The sun seemed to personify a Dylan Thomas poem:

Do not go gentle into that good night ...
   Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

We parked by the roadside and watched this spectacular sight. By the time we saw the sunset, the sun had actually already gone. This was because a true sunset occurred a minute or so before the sun disappeared. What was seen was a kind of mirage as the light was getting bent around the horizon by the effect of refraction. It was also magical that we only noticed the silhouette of the birds when Babe loaded the photographs onto the computer.

We also made our final trip to Donna Nook. We'd been keeping an eye on the seal counts to decide on which day to go. We left at 8.04 am on a cold, dark gloomy morning with the mercury reaching 3.5C. We timed the traffic perfectly and managed to avoid the morning queues. Unfortunately, at Ingsy Lane, the road was closed and we followed the diversions on very tight country lanes. We arrived a bit later than expected but thankfully, still managed to find a parking space at the Stonebridge car-park. It was nearly 11 am and the place was already buzzing.

After parking and wrapping up very warm, we waddled our way to the viewing point. It was freezing and the high winds didn’t helped either. The seals were now well spread out and there were at least a dozen on the sandy beaches by the entrance. We walked along the chestnut-paling fence that ran the entire length of the viewing area, and more fluffy pups of different stages of growth with their protective mothers scattered along the beach, among the sand-dunes and reed-beds. Their whimpering cries were echoing around us.

There were plenty of heart warming scenes where mothers were nursing their pups. Females were the sole providers of care for their pups while the males provided no parental care. It was lovely watching the intimate interactions between them. A bond was formed  between mother and pup at birth, and she could recognised her pup from its call and smell. Pups with their mournful cries were often heard calling to their mothers. Mothers were encouraging the pups to feed by scratching their faces. Pups suckled for 3 weeks during which their weight increased as much as 30kg in 2 weeks. In the meantime, the mothers lost up to 65 kg during lactation as they weren’t feeding.

Each pup I encountered was cuter than the one before, looking at me with their glossy black eyes like coal, lolling on the tussocky sand. Appearing in fluffy, white fur when born, called languno, kept them warm until they developed an insulating layer of blubber from their mother’s milk. They kept this distinct white coat for two weeks + when the fur darkened and began to shed as they matured. After 16+ days, at the weaning stage, the pups lost their white coat and had the unique grey/dark grey pelage and patterning that remained the same through adulthood. A few pups were very close to the fence, checking out the visitors who were busy checking them out, under the watchful eyes of their possessive mothers. If anyone got too close, the warning hisses, growls and waving flippers were issued.

We had missed out on the bulls fighting as most of the territories had been staked out by now. The males tended to be darker than females and had the noticeably arched ‘Roman‘ nose and thickset shoulders, wrinkled appearances and very dark, finely mottled coats.  When the females were ready, their uterus developed a fluid-filled sack containing an egg and hormonal changes made her receptive to the advances made by the males. At the onset of the breeding season, the male hormone levels changed. When they arrived on the colony, they competed for space nearest to the cows.  It was a long continuous battle to keep the other males away. There were scraps when another male trespassed their territory. There were plenty of body slapping on the mud.  A bull can’t risk going to feed,  because if he does, he might not be able to re-establish himself again.

We continued walking on towards the end of the viewing area. We saw a crowd and checked out what they were looking at. It was a black seal pup. Black seal pups were uncommon but not unusual. A few were born every year but they were not seen by visitors because they weren’t seen nearer to the fence. Black pups were born with the same white ‘lanugo’ coat as all the other pups. The black colouration became visible at the first moult when the pup was 2-3 weeks old. The cause was most likely to be genetic, similar to the black rabbits.

We checked out the board and there were now 334 bulls, 1058 cows and 943 pups. Then it was a slow walk back to the car. We were chuffed when we spotted our favourite  Ropeneck with her new born. A well-known seal, she was named by wardens who found her in 2000 entangled in discarded netting and was clearly in distressed. The netting had cut a very deep wound in her neck which was still visible even today. It seemed that a lot of seals had encountered the same predicament judging by the numbers we came across with scars around their necks.

A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.
~William Wordsworth~

We stopped and took hundreds more photographs which was a challenge because more people were pouring into the reserve. I couldn’t imagine how busy it was in the weekend when the narrow lanes, car park and viewing area became very congested. We said our good-byes to the seals as this was our last trip for 2018. By January, the viewing area will be empty as all the seal pups had returned to the North Sea.  We wished them a safe journey and hoped to see them again, same time next year, insyallah.

We then stretched our legs with a trip to Slimbridge WWT. We must be loco but it was something we enjoyed doing. We left the casa quite late at 11 am on a gloomy, cloudy and rainy day. There was quite a lot of traffic on the road, especially on the exit roads to Birmingham which was most probably heading for the German Xmas market. My colleagues and I also planned to pay a visit to the market  in mid-December.

There was a long queue into the Slimbridge reception as there were plenty of families bringing their children to take advantage of the many Christmas activities that was laid out. We often found it ridiculous that as members we still had to queue among the paying visitors. We took the usual route and was greeted by this adorable Grey wagtail feeding in the Caribbean flamingo enclosure. The long tail gave it an elegant profile and it was continually active, pumping its tail up and down. It kept on wagging its tail whilst walking or running briskly, foraging for aquatic insects and invertebrates.

The first hide we stopped was the Rushy Hide where we were greeted by this Bewick Swan feeding near the drains. It was surrounded by Coots, Pochards and Tufted Ducks who were waiting to feed on whatever that had been stirred up. It used its strong webbed feet to dig  into submerged mud and tipped up, plunging the head and neck underwater, exposing and feeding on roots, shoots and tubers. This then stirred up invertebrates and aquatic vegetation which were quickly snapped up by the ducks and Coots.

A family of Bewick’s Swan flew in to join their family members on the water. Loud excited high-pitched honking calls echoed around us as those in the water greeted them. They had  finished  feeding on the nearby fields before flying in to roost on the open water. They had a slow, steady flight with their legs dangling as they were about to land, dropping onto the water at steeper angles as if bracing themselves for a mighty crash. They were honking away as they were about to land, a warning sign to those in the water to give them space. They then sailed down and water skied to a halt that ended with a belly-flop.

They were greeted warmly by the family group members. The communicative behaviour increased with density which included head-bobs, vocalizations and displays.  It was noisy, with constant low babbling in the water and indulging in greeting displays, reminiscent of excited dogs. Pairs and families formed particularly coherent units during aggressive encounters involving displays such as bugling and neck-stretching. There were families with yearlings and cygnets, pairs and singles. They then flapped their wings with more musical yapping.  After calming down, they began either preening or feeding.

Each year these extraordinary birds battled their way over thousands of kilometres of desolate tundra, wooded wilderness and vast lakes and seas to escape the icy grip of the Arctic winter after spending the summer on the Russian tundra to feed and breed. These birds were magnificent visitors to our skies. Some had returned to Slimbridge for 28 years,  totalling over 140,000 miles over their lifetimes. But each year fewer and fewer were returning, and it was the same across Europe. It was suspected that they were being affected by habitat and climate changes on their breeding grounds. Other known causes included the presence of wind turbines and power pylons in their flight  path, lead poisoning and illegal hunting.

Bewick’s swans cared for their offspring for a relatively long time. Cygnets remained with their parents throughout their first winter, staying within calling distance as they were guided along their first migration. They arrived in the UK from mid-October, wintering here until the following March before migrating once again to their breeding grounds on the Russian tundra. The arrival of the Bewicks causes much debate because folklore suggested that it could predict whether we were set to face a cold winter. If they arrived early then it could meant a harsh winter – or even a white Christmas - but later touchdowns indicated a milder few months.

The first Bewick's, named Indri, had arrived here in Slimbridge on 30th October. With each bird having a unique bill pattern, experts could identify and record the individual birds from their beaks. Indri had surfed the first blast of winter winds from the Arctic which heralded the arrival of winter.  Up to 200 Bewick's  overwinter from late October to Early March, and her appearance was the 3rd visit to the reserve after arriving as a cygnet in 2016.

Then we headed to Martin Smith hide to see if the Jack Snipe was out and about.  There were several sightings but not today. Thankfully, a large flock of Wigeon grazing very close to the hide kept us occupied. It appeared that a large arrival had arrived overnight and they were feeding in their distinctive carpet formation. They ate primarily plants, both aquatic and terrestrial. They grazed on the plants and seeds using their short bills. These ducks were once known as 'Baldplate' because of their white crown.

We continued on and checked out Willow Hide to see if the Water rail was around. We don’t have to wait long when the star attraction turned up. Water-rail was supposed to be secretive and shy, often heard than seen with their loud squealing and snorting noises emerging from the dense reed-beds. But not this bird with its chestnut-brown and black upperparts, grey face and underparts and black-and white barred flacks, a long red bill and tiny cocked tail. It came strutting out probing with its bill on the seeds that had fallen from the bird-feeder.

We then made a very brief visit to the rest of the hides as there was nothing much about. On the way back,  we made another stop at Rushy Hide where the Pintails had woken up and were wandering around in pairs. Drake pintails were stunning. They were sleek and slender, with long protruding tail feathers which gave them their common name. They appeared pale grey overall, but sported a lovely chocolate-coloured head with a white stripe extending up from breast to behind each eye. Under their tails, they were black and cream, and in flight a white, black and rufous bar was revealed on each wing. The females were mottled tan overall, but still appeared to be sleeker and more pointed than other female ducks. In flight, they showed a brown wing bar edged with white. Both had blue-grey bills.

We ended the month with a visit to our favourite playground again. As usual when we walked past the SAGA sign, we were bombarded by the Robins. I always carried a small container of mealworms and started hand feeding them. At first, they glowered at me from their perch, trying to make up their mind before swooping down to accept my offerings. They were very quick, snatching a juicy mealworm before flying back into the undergrowth to feed. There was something very special about the impossibly light bundle of energy that stood a few seconds on my hand. It was definitely a grin-inducing moment of wildlife connection.

We stopped at Baldwin Hide where a female Golden Eye was swimming quite close to the hide. Unlike the male which was black and white with a greenish black head and a circular white patch in front of the yellow eye, she was smaller and  mottled grey with a chocolate brown head. Goldeneyes were diving ducks with streamlined bodies and short tails. They foraged mostly under water for small aquatic animals such as crabs, crayfish, snails, clams,  insects, small fishes and bits of vegetation. They dived for these and ate them while underwater.

The pontoon was full of resting Cormorants. These large, black, long-necked swimmers and divers were easily recognised by their crucifix- like stance. The  bodies upright, wings held partly outstretched. They struck an eerie pose as they spread their wings to enable their plumage to dry and retained the natural oils. Cormorants lacked the water resistant properties that many other aquatic birds possessed, and must dry their wings. It required large amounts of energy for a Cormorant to regulate its body temperature in order to dry its wings and had used nature’s hand-drier – the wind.

The hide was getting busier and from Baldwin Hide we saw that East Marsh Hide was also packed. We decided not to go further and headed home. November had often been written off as the holding month between Halloween and Christmas when very little happened but not for us. Autumn was at its best, before the rain or snow fell, the skies were bright blue and the leaves were still orange and totally kickable. The promise of Xmas was more exciting in November as it was tantalising close but no one was stressed out yet.

#D. H. Lawrence

Come Bleak November

  It was November…

the month of crimson sunsets,

parting birds,

deep sad hymns of the sea,

passionate wind songs in the pines

~L.M. Montgomery~

November was ushered in on a gust of wind, on a harsh platter of rain across the window and heavy, grey skies laden with rain. As Pooh said, “the wind was a-blowing and a-tossing and a-whistling”.   It was dark, dreary and wet. As the days unfold, leaves spread a cloth of gold and amber.  The wind continued to howl loudly, and the trees lifted their roots, swaying like sail boats far out at sea. Leaves took to the sky in a mad Dervish dance swirling all the way down. The patio was drowning in leaves and I seemed to be playing catch-up with the sweeping. Thousands of leaves shaken from the trees and seemed to land in one place, my patio :-(

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow

Blossom where the rose should grow;

I shall sing when night’s decay

Ushers in a drearier day.

~Fall, leaves fall by Emily Bronte~

In the garden, squirrels were scurrying across the carpet of fallen leaves carrying the last of their winter larder between their teeth like thieves running from a crime, while performing ninja-like gymnastics in the tree-branches. They were quite ingenuous in their drive to empty the nut feeders and storing by burying them to hide their stash so that they have food to last through winter. It was very entertaining to watch these furry tailed partygoers bounding up and down the lawn, with their quivering tails.behind them. From time to time, they stood up on their hind legs checking their surroundings.

 

According to folklore, if squirrels were more active than usual, it was an indication that a severe winter was on its way. This was because during autumn, their main task was to gather nuts and seeds for their storehouse. So if their efforts had noticeably increased, it could only meant that they were preparing for the worst. And when their tails were very bushy, that was a sign of a tough winter to come. 

Squirrels gathering nuts in a flurry

Will cause snow to gather in a hurry

It was Bonfire Night and everyone was excited about the Catherine Wheels and beautiful shimmering displays. It always rained on bonfire night and I guess standing in a muddy field with cold feet doesn’t dampen the thrill of it. The dark of night was punctuated with the sound of shrieking fireworks, loud bangs and the whooshing of rockets. The air filled with the smell of a myriad of explosions as ‘guys’ got thrown into funeral pyres. The next morning, walking to the bus stop on a damp, cold morning, trying not to step on the slippery,wet leaves on the pavements, I came across pieces of burnt rockets littering the ground  with the whiff of gunpowder in the morning air. Aah…the day after the night before.

We had purchased 2 pumpkins and I’d fun going through my recipe books for ideas. I made a spicy Thai pumpkin soup as starters and added chunks of pumpkin to a beef casserole as the main meal which was bubbling away in the slow cooker. It made the sauce very thick and yummy. We’d it with couscous to soak up the rich gravy. To end the meal, I made a  pumpkin pie for dessert. Babe regarded the day as ‘death by pumpkin’ day. :-)

Pumpkin Pie

• 750g/1lb 10oz pumpkin or butternut squash, peeled, deseeded and cut into chunks
• 350g sweet shortcrust pastry
• plain flour, for dusting
• 140g caster sugar
• ½ tsp salt
• ½ tsp fresh nutmeg, grated
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 25g butter, melted
• 175ml milk
• 1 tbsp icing sugar
• Place pumpkin in a large saucepan, cover with water and bring to the boil. Cover with a lid and simmer for 15 mins or until tender. Drain pumpkin; let cool.
• Heat oven to 180C/160C fan/gas 4. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface and use it to line a 22cm loose-bottomed tart tin. Chill for 15 mins. Line the pastry with baking parchment and baking beans, then bake for 15 mins. Remove the beans and paper, and cook for a further 10 mins until the base is pale golden and biscuity. Remove from the oven and allow to cool slightly.
• Increase oven to 220C/200C fan/gas 7. Push cooled pumpkin through a sieve into a large bowl. In a separate bowl, combine the sugar, salt, nutmeg and half the cinnamon. Mix in the beaten eggs, melted butter and milk, then add to the pumpkin purée and stir to combine. Pour into the tart shell and cook for 10 mins, then reduce the temperature to 180C/160C fan/gas 4. Continue to bake for 35-40 mins until the filling has just set.
• Leave to cool, then remove the pie from the tin. Mix the remaining cinnamon with the icing sugar and dust over the pie. Serve chilled

On Remembrance Sunday, we commemorated the day with a trip to our favourite playground. A pair of Pied and Grey wagtail greeted us from the visitor centre’s rooftop. Their rapid  twittering followed their looping flight as they fly after each other. Along the path near Goose Pool, a flock of Redpolls, Siskins, Blue, Great and Long Tits were busy feeding on the conifers. We checked out Baldwin Hide and there he was a pristine looking Golden Eye looking fabulous with the sun reflecting off its plumage. The drake was one of our most attractive ducks, with its shiny green head, bright yellow eye and white face patch.

 

“Or sadly listen to the tuneless cry

Of fishing gull or clanging golden eye”

~George Crabbe (1754-1832)~

After having our fill with this handsome duck. we waded through the muddy foothpath towards East Marsh Hide. The lake was heaving with dabbling teals and mallards, upending and surface dabbling shovellers while wigeons were terrestrial grazing on the banks opposite the hide. Tufted ducks were busy diving for food, sieving  food from the bottom of the lake. Common Snipes were very well camouflaged among the reeds. But the highlight was when this adorable Little Grebe popped its head up.

Then we went straight to the Ted Jury hide. We didn’t stay long because the smell of the freshly varnished walls had been too overpowering. We walked back to Carlton Hide and made ourselves comfortable. The pond was nearly covered with weeds. The volunteers were running a loosing battle trying to clear the pond. We’d something to eat while waiting for the piece de resistance. As predicted, s soon as the Gulls made their way to Draycote Waters to roost, flocks of starlings began to appear and they came together in huge clouds, wheeling, turning and swooping in unison. All you could hear were our cameras rattling away. After about half an hour, they slowly rained down and funnel en masse to roost in the reed-beds.

We also made a trip to Middletton Lakes to check out the mumuration display. About 3k starlings had been sighted and we wanted to see them. But first, as we walked along the boardwalk, we saw this Great Spotted Woodpecker having a go at the bird-feeder. Bullfinches, Robins, House sparrows, Great and Blue tits too were taking turns to feed. We continued walking along the very muddy bridleway where we came across a bridge where seeds had been scattered. We stood silently and waited and half a dozen Nuthatches, Chaffinches and Robins were taking turn to feed.

We came across dozens of fat-balls hanging on the branches along the path. I know that people have good intentions to feed the birds but the nettings that came with the balls were very dangerous to them. Their feet could get tangled and worse still was that they could choke on the plastic. We took the netting off and placed the fat-balls on the ground. We continued on and walked towards the wetlands. The lake was full of Tufted ducks, Wigeons and Great Crested Grebes in their winter colours.

We stopped at the viewing screen near the West Scrape. It was very quiet as the water levels had risen quite high. We were distracted by a flock of Dunlins flying above us with their purring trill cries. Across the scrape, among the reed-beds we saw a herd of Old English Longhorn cattle grazing. By foraging here, they helped to prevent the newly-created pools from becoming choked with vegetation by foraging and improving the wetlands for waders.

We followed the trail between the Jubilee wetlands south and the new reed-beds. It was a very warm afternoon and we started stripping off, not literally off course. We don’t want to scare off the birds. Little brown jobs were darting in and out of the bulrushes that were glittering in the sun. The weather don’t feel right for the end of October. It was one of those dazzling golden, breezy, sunshiny days that you often witness in mid-September. A flock of birds flew in front of us and were feeding on the gorse scrub. We crept closer and it was a pair of Linnets.

While we were busy photographing them, a jerky low flight caught our attention. We stood still and spotted a familiar orange belly and blue top perched on the very top of a thistle bush. It was a Stonechat . Whoop…whoop. And they were popping up everywhere. There were at least half a dozen pairs flying about. The calls, aptly and frequently likened to two stones being struck together, greeted our approach as they flew from perch to perch on rapidly whirring broad wings. I could have stayed here longer but the sun was beginning to set and we wanted to be in position for the starlings.

As predicted, flocks of Gulls were flying to Dosthill Lakes situated at the back of the reserve to roost. Then flocks of starlings started flying in and gathering around the Fisher’s Mill reed-beds. More flew in but they kept on flying away from us. There was nearly a thousand flying across but they weren’t roosting. Where on earth were they sleeping for the night? But, it wasn’t so bad when at least a dozen Little Egrets followed the starlings. Unfortunately, it was too dark for a good photograph. Then it was time to head home in the dark, walking past a large rookery that filled the woods with noise as the crows got ready for the night. Bonn nuit guys.

Earlier in the week, it was Armstice Day. As we observed the one minute silence at 11 am, in honour of those who gave their lives for their country, we need to remember those who were left as widows and widowers and those who came back to a largely uncaring society, left to cope with their own injuries and care. Also the innocent millions who died. I prayed and hoped that by the 100th anniversary of this very sad day, peace will get an opportunity to change the future. Wishful thinking, me thinks. War had always been a scourge. It was mankind’s fatal flaw. 

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condem.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

My life was always a gentle chaos, where I permanently chase around, striving to hold together the threads and keeping some sort of order. After a proper summer, I am liking the darker season, the shutting down and the closing in that winter winter brings. A spirit of quietness broods out there beneath the leafless trees. It was as if the earth spoke and whispered to me …. “Let everything lie fallow for a bit …  rest and wait … rest and wait. “ Autumn made me feel a little nostalgic, serene and pensive, and winter reminded of the human condition, a time of intense reflection during which we come back on the past, think of the future and were ready to start everything fresh.

“Use what you have, use what the world gives you. Use the first day of fall: bright flame before winter’s deadness; harvest; orange, gold, amber; cool nights and the smell of fire. Our tree-lined streets are set ablaze, our kitchens filled with the smells of nostalgia: apples bubbling into sauce, roasting squash, cinnamon, nutmeg, cider, warmth itself. The leaves as they spark into wild colour just before they die are the world’s oldest performance art, and everything we see is celebrating one last violently hued hurrah before the black and white silence of winter”

~Shauna Niequist~

Something in the Air this Morning made me feel like Flying …*

Britain was basking in glorious sunshine as a swathe of hot air swept in from the continent. Throughout the day, high pressure charged across the country. It was 20C in the car when we left the casa heading for Aberystwyth, again. We joined the thousands who were out and about but thankfully, the trip down wasn’t so bad. As we drove along the A58 from Welshpool, I noticed the Welshpool & Lanfair light railway meandering through the Banwy valley below us. We stopped at a lay-bye near Sylfaen and waited for it to pass. The passengers in the train gave us a wave and we waved back. I was hoping that the driver would toot his horn when he saw us but not today.

Opened in 1903, the railway linked the market town of Welshpool with the rural community of Llanfair Caereinion which was 8 miles away. Built as a light railway to avoid some of the costs of railway construction, the 2 foot 6 inch narrow gauge steam railway allowed for tight curves and steep gradients, enabling the line to follow the contours of the countryside. The trains were hauled by unique original locomotives. The carriages were from Hungary and Austria with access to the enclosed seating area via an open balcony, a great way to watch the picturesque mid-Wales countryside. We took a few shots before the heritage train chugged off into the hills.     

Our first stop was the Dyfy Osprey, located at the Cors Dyfi nature reserve near Derwenlas. In 2011, for the first time in over 400 years, Ospreys were breeding in the Dyfi valley following 3 years work by the Montgomeryshire Wildlife Trust. Monty and Nora laid their first egg on Easter Monday 2011, followed by 2 more eggs. They successfully hatched and were named after local rivers Einion, Dulas and Leri. Satellite trackers were fitted when they were ringed. On Wednesday 27th July 2014, Einion made history by being the first osprey to fledge on the Dyfi in over 400 years.   

Unsurprisingly, the car-park was buzzing. After paying £2.50 each to get in we walked across the boardwalk around the swampy, boggy reserve. A lot of changes had been made since we were here last. From water-logged, tidal salt-marsh, through reclaimed grazing land and conifer plantation to current wildlife haven, Cors Dyfi had seen many changes over the years.  Now the reserve was a mixture of bog, swamp, wet woodland and scrub supporting a wide range of animals and plants. A familiar sight from my home country, water buffaloes, were feeding quietly in the corner. They were being used to graze the rougher gorse and reeds preventing acres of the reserve reverting back to the wild.

The authorities had removed the old boardwalk which circled around and its place was a fairly straight boardwalk that only goes straight through the reeds towards the observatory. We could hear the Arriva trains passing through several times during our stay. I was in no rush to reach the observatory and was far more interested in the dragonflies and damselflies patrolling along the boardwalk. Drains had been cleared and then blocked so that the site stayed wet and created new ponds, thus encouraging a wealth of odonata.

"Today I saw the dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.

He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;
Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew."

~Alfred Lord Tennyson~

And then I came across this impressive round wooden structure, looming over the marshland. Babe was already on the upper viewing level, 10 m above the bog below. The building provided a 360 degree panoramic view of the reserve and Dyfi valley with the Plynlimon Mountains and Snowdonia National Park beyond. An opportunity to experience the Dyfi ecosystem from a new perspective. There was a large room with various charts and binoculars and a telescope trained on the nest. which was 200 metres away. Unfortunately, tripods which belonged to the visitors were blocking the various viewing windows. I think it was very thoughtless to leave them all over the place.

We managed to find a clear space and checked out the piece de resistance. Glesni had so far laid two eggs and was was seen feeding on a fish on a tree at the far end. It was Monty’s turn to incubate the eggs. We found it hilarious that when Glesni flew in and perched near the nest, Monty refused to budge. Unfortunately, due to the distance of the nest from where we were standing and the haze, taking photographs was a challenge. There wasn’t much else here but I hoped that will change over time. I felt that the Trust concentrated too much of the ospreys and not enough of the nature reserve. The ospreys will only be here from May to August before flying back to West Africa. But the reserve will be there throughout the seasons.

Then we made our way to Bwlch Nant yr Arian trying to dodge the tired cyclists who were returning home from the Cycling festival.  We arrived at the very busy visitor centre with plenty of time to spare. The mountain bike trails was full of cyclists whizzing through. Since it was such a hot day, we treated ourselves to a homemade Welsh ice-cream, Mary Farmhouse. Nom…nom. We slurped our ice-cream just beside the bird-feeder which was full of squabbling Siskins, Chaffinches and Tree sparrows. The grounds were littered with shiny yellow Buttercups with Whites enjoying the nectar.  

Then we slowly made our way towards the lake. I was stopping at every nook by the lake for tadpoles and I wasn’t disappointed. They were at different stages of development. By the lake, I scanned the waters and spotted a Goosander having a swim. A family of Canada Geese with 3 fluffy goslings were also out and about. Hmm… not a good idea especially during the feeding session and I wasn’t wrong. The Red Kites were swooping in as soon as the meat was strewn over the banks. Some were dropped into the lakes near the family and a few Kites had mistaken the chicks for meat and started swooping in. Thankfully, the parents were very alert and managed to shoo off these birds of prey.

We’d taken thousands of photographs of these magnificent birds soaring above us but we wanted to take shots of them picking their food from the lake. It was a challenge and some of them flew surprisingly close to where we were standing and was out of focus. Thankfully, we managed to get some lovely ones. We also spotted the kite with no tail although it had grown a small tuft at the end and a leucistic kite. We enjoyed watching them flying after each other, trying to grab the pieces of meat from their neighbour. After taking our fill, we slowly made our way back to the car for refreshments.

A Red Kite hangs and slides
Along a stony ridge,
Perched on the sheer gust and bracing uplift,
Still on a windy hill sides slip.

It clings precarious, one of the last few, lone bird;
In its element on the breeze, imperious control haughty
Scouring the winter hill for carrion,
This century breeding pairs have not passed, a mere forty,

He soars and swings,
On an angular down tipped wing,
Long tail forked and angled as a rudder,
Quiet, beautiful, languid effortlessness, a steady study on the buffets of the wind.

~R.S.Thomas 1913-2000~

Finally a drive to Gilfach nature reserve still dodging more cyclists. We stopped by River Marteg to see if the dippers were out and about. But not today. The woods were spookily quiet. Pockets of bluebells were dappling under the trees. We continued on towards the visitor reserve and was surprised to see that we’re the only one. We scanned the courtyard and it was practically empty except for this handsome Pied flycatcher flying down to check us out.   I guess most of the birds were sitting on eggs.

I checked the bird-feeder and it was empty. Where have they gone? We walked along the Oakwood Trail with glorious views over the valley. Anthills peppered all over the meadows We heard the familiar cries. We followed the sound to a familiar tee and spotted 2 holes, one above the other.  We sat down by the bank and waited patiently listening to the constantly clamour to be fed. A loud and resonant ‘chip’, and we knew that one of the parent was back with food. It flew into a nearby tree before landing  below the nest hole and then manoeuvred into position before entering.  A minute later, it departed, having temporally satiated the hunger of the brood. Then the cries began again. The parents will be kept busy for at least 3 frantic weeks. Then it was time for the long drive home.

We made another trip to Ashlawn Cuttings where we were serenaded by a very pleasant song from a Garden Warbler. It was singing its heart out from the electric wires that crossed the reserve. Peacock butterflies were fluttering by taking advantage of the sunny weather. We walked down the steep sided path towards the bridge. Wild strawberries were flowering profusely and the little red berries will provide food for birds and animals. The pool had shrunk and nearly covered with grass, reeds and weeds. We scanned the water and spotted a few tadpoles hiding under the leaves. We couldn’t stay too long because the thousands of midges were literally eating us alive.

From here, we nipped to Draycote Meadows which was down the road. Last year, Prince Charles had declared it the Coronation Meadow for the country of Warwickshire. The 5.5 hectare consisted of 2 wildflower meadows surrounded by ancient hedgerows. a spring-fed stream with small areas of scrub and wet rushy grassland. The wildflower display began in April when cowslips cover the ridges, with Lady’s smock in the damper areas. We missed that. But now, the meadow was covered with breathtaking display of butter-cups, adders-tongue, moonwort, yellow rattle, meadow vetchling, oxeye daisies and knapweed. The diversity of flowers supported a range of butterflies such as orange tips, meadow browns and small copper.

And among the thousands swathes of wildflowers, we spotted these Green-winged orchids among the butter-cups. The jester-like motley of its green and purple flowers gave this orchid its scientific name, morio, meaning a fool. It was very relaxing to be out and about in the lovely sunshine surrounded by bursting of colours from the yellow of the yellow rattle, the whites of the oxeye daisies and the purples of the knapweed. From time to time, the peaceful atmosphere was broken by the very vocal cries of the crows. There was a large rookery at the end of the meadow. We left before we got sun-burnt.

As we drove back home, we passed huge fields of rapeseed. The country had assumed a yellow tinge as it was the time when acres were in full flower. Unfortunately, many people suffer from allergies, when the plants started blooming. Thankfully, I am not affected by this but Babe do complain of runny eyes and sore throat. Demand for rapeseed in the UK had increased significantly as more and more farmers cashed in on the soaring price from rapeseed oil by swapping traditional crops.

I love the sight of the sea of gold and had always taken photographs from the car when we’re travelling up and down country at about 80 km. But today, I was completely bowled over when I’d such a close encounter. When I walked through this fabulous landscape, I felt like Alice in Wonderland. It was not hard to feel cheerful standing in the field. The golden glow from flowers eclipsed the grey clouds hovering over us. Despite their intoxicating aroma, they were truly beautiful to look at. Millions of busy bees were buzzing around me. It was like swimming in a yellow sea of flowers. 

We also made a visit to our favourite playground. Swallows greeted us as we parked close to the wall. Pied wagtails were seen with beakful of worms for the chicks. We stood quietly at the end of the courtyard and watched it crept closer and closer and then disappeared under the solar panels. I knew it was nesting underneath there. Great Crested Newt had made a home in the pond. At Baldwin Hide, Common Terns were nesting on the pontoon. A Coot was seen dragging a piece of wood towards the island near the hide. Building a nest for a second brood, perhaps?

Thankfully, as soon as we reached East Marsh Hide, the heavens opened. Outside, the Sand-martins were enjoying the rain, with their delightful cries echoing around us. 2 female Mallards with at least 20 ducklings between them were dabbling near the mudbanks. An aggressive Mute Swan cobs was busy chasing the youngsters off the lake. We were told that the Oystercatchers and Redshanks have 4 chicks each with them. I could see the Oystercatchers but not the Redshanks. We dashed back to the car as soon as the rain stopped. But we made a pit stop at Goose Pool where we heard the familiar cries of Woodpecker chicks. We followed the cries and found the nest. We saw one of the parent flying close but it spotted us and flew away. We left immediately because we didn’t want to disturb them feeding.

Finally a trip to Slimbridge Wildfowl and Wetland trust to check out the Crane chicks. Two chicks had hatched here for the first time in Western England in 400 years. Their parents, Chris and Monty, were hand-reared by The Great Crane Project, a programme hoping to re-introduce the once common  birds back to Britain. They were released as 3-month old fledglings on the Somerset Moors and Levels, where back in the 1600s, numbers had fallen due to hunting and loss of habitat.  But we weren’t alone. The car-park was full and the Martin Smith hide was standing room only. We weren’t too bothered and will check them out later when everything had calmed down. Amidst all the excitement, we spotted this very handsome pristine Spoonbill feeding very close to the hide.

The adult male was in breeding plumage. He started feeding very actively on the shallow pool right in front of us. He was so close that we could see his large, flat spatulate bills and fed by wading through the water, sweeping the partly opened bill from side to side. The moment any small aquatic creatures touched the inside of the beak, it snapped shut. We watched him feeding followed by a preen, another feed and then went off to the end of the pool for a long snooze.

Like old people trying to read a newspaper

through a magnifying glass

two round-shouldered spoonbills scan the mud,

knee-deep with feathers as white as snow-covered tussock

and black-rivet eyes imprisoned behind soup-ladled bills

the colour of pewter.

~Kay McKenzie Cooke~

While waiting for the Spoonbill to wake up. we’d the opportunity to check out the crane chicks. Last year, the parents managed to hatch a chick but it died before leaving the nest. Fingers-crossed this pair will survive to adulthood. It was quite hard to see the chicks because the grass was quite tall. But we knew they were always near their parents legs and when we could spot them, they looked like a fuzzy brown toy. They followed their parents and were fed by them, The chicks pecked the food from their parents beak. It was lovely to see them running from one parent to the other. It was believed that they grew a centimetre a day and it will take some time to reach their 4-foot high parents.

“You are the miracle bird,

Risen from the memory of the Sun’s womb

In the heart of the Earth.

Flutter, flutter on, my heart.”

~Mahmud Kianush~

We left as the family wandered further from sight towards the end of the field. I hoped that the parents were aware that a Buzzard had just landed on a nearby tree. We checked out Rushy Hide where a large flock of Black Headed Gulls were making themselves heard with their high-pitched and vocal cries. A few were seating on nests on the ground which was just a shallow scrape and lined with vegetation and we spotted a pair mating. The elegant black and white Avocets too were sitting on eggs. They were quite aggressive chasing away intruders that were getting too close to their nest.

We continued our adventure walking past the noisy Caribbean flamingos outside the restaurant. I was hoping to see some sitting on their nesting mounds but not today. Even if they were sitting on the mounds, the eggs were made of wood. This is because the wardens will come and collect the newly-laid eggs and substitute them with wooden ones. These eggs were then taken to another site to be incubated to give the eggs a better chance of survival. When they were nearly hatched, they were taken back to the original nesting parents.

A few adorable juvenile Nenes followed us expecting to be fed and gave us the eye when they saw that we came empty-handed. Off they go to harass the other visitors who’d bags of seeds to feed them. We checked the House-martins to see if they were nesting but it was quiet under the visitor centre’s roof. It was babies galore by the swan’s lake. Mute Swans with fluffy cygn

Flickr Tags: birds,birdwatching,travel,wales,trains,poetry,nature,wildlife

ets were cruising around the lake. Greylags geese were hissing at anyone who dared to get close to their gangly babies. But I was more interested with the Northern Marsh orchids that were popping all over the place.

We made our way to the Greater Flamingos lagoon to see if they were sitting on eggs. As usual, they were busy feeding and flapping at each other. I think the same was happening here as with the Caribbean flamingos. We came across Coots at different stages of growth. I love watching the very pale and less black juveniles looking after the distinctively coloured heads of their younger siblings. When we walked past the Tropical House, a family of Shelducks with a dozen ducklings emerging from the undergrowth.  They were very cute fluffy versions of the adults.

We went back to Martin Smith hide to see if the crowd had dispersed. It was still buzzing. And the Spoonbill had flown off. We took a seat further down the hide where a crow was nesting underneath the roof. From time to time, the chicks will be shouting their heads off. The Cranes were now feeding further down the field and we could see the chicks walking very close to their parents. Then the Spoonbill flew in and we all you could hear were our cameras rattling away. What a lovely end to the day.

In the home front, the Asiatic lilies were being decimated by the lily beetles. A pair was even mating at the top of the highest lily shoot. Sometimes they even have a menage a trois!!!. They laid their eggs in clusters and once hatched, started munching through the leaves and buds and covering themselves with their own fecal shield to repel predators. The larvae eventually became fluorescent orange pupae. We never kill them and just let them live. We find them fascinating to photograph.  I had 5 pots before and then 3 and now only one was left which I think will be thrown away as soon as the season is over. This is because they will drop to the soil in late autumn to overwinter and emerged again next spring. This isn’t the decimated lilies. They were too gross to be shown. Instead, a stunning Aquilegia vulgaris stellata Nora Barlow.

At the moment, we don’t need an alarm clock to wake us up. A flock of juvenile starlings flew in at 5 am at the bird-feeder, demanding to be fed. Aargh …. too early. They were squabbling among themselves trying to get to the fat-balls or the feeding tray resulting in the seeds being scattered to the ground. Sigh… But then, these will be food for the Blackbirds, Dunnocks and Robins. When everything is quiet, the very shy Jay flew in and took his turn.

*Quote by Eileen Granfors, And More White Sheets