Tag Archives: London Wetland Centre

Floods and Winter at the Wetland Centre

Yes, Storm Bert flooded the car park. Didn’t seem to bother any of the waterfowl too much …
Cape Barren Goose, in what used to be the Icelandic field with its turf-topped stone walls
Heron waiting for fish … with a nice sunny reflection
Flock of Goldfinches, flying down to path and back up to bushes … repeatedly …
Kestrel
Wigeon hoovering up the grass of the Grazing Marsh

Iridescent Dragonflies, Dazzling Orchids at London Wetland Centre

Bee Orchid
Black-Tailed Skimmer

The whole of the wetland was sparkling with Emperor Dragonflies patrolling the pools: a few females laid eggs by Water-Lilies, the males occasionally chasing prey, or a rival. The margins were full of Azure Damselflies, nearly all males: I saw one pair in wheel formation.

The marshy areas bristled with Southern Marsh Orchids
Red-Eyed Damselfly

Several Red-Eyed Damselfly males displayed on lily-pads, chasing off rivals; occasionally an Azure came by too. Over one or two of the smaller pools, a Hairy Dragonfly patrolled; one of them had an aerial tussle with a similarly-sized red dragonfly, I think a Common Darter.

Yellow Rattle

Overhead, quite a few Sand Martins caught insects over the water (well, the Wetland Centre does sport West London’s only Sand Martin bank, an artificial river cliff), along with a few Swifts, and I think exactly one Swallow … it feels as if something terrible has happened to these populations. They have to migrate across the Sahel, the Sahara, the Mediterranean, and numerous populations of hungry village boys and keen shooters, so it’s something of a miracle there are any left: and that’s not even speaking about climate change.

Blue and yellow Vetches bringing colour to the tall grassland, with tendrils everywhere

A couple of Common Terns, presumably those breeding on the Wetland Centre’s lake islands, made their bright and cheery waterbird calls as they wheeled about, searching for glimpses of tiny fish to dive in and catch.

Common Spotted Orchid

There were only a few butterflies about – a Red Admiral, a Holly Blue, a couple of Speckled Wood, some Whites, a female Brimstone. For me, the bees and pollinators looked well down on normal, too. Amidst the warmth of the day, the beauty, the peace, and the brilliant colours, it is a sombre tale of decline.

Eyed Hawkmoth at the Wetland Centre

A distant shot of a distinctive insect, the Eyed Hawkmoth (Smerinthus ocellata). Only the hawkmoths have those wide triangular wings, hooked at the tip and indented beside the abdomen; and only this species has the large eyespots on the hindwings. The adults don’t feed; the larvae eat Willow, which is certainly plentiful at the Wetland Centre!
Yellow Bartsia (Parentucellia viscosa) was growing in a broad mass all around the islands and along the channels. It’s a curious plant, semi-parasitic, living in damp sandy places and dune slacks. It has the lipped flowers of the Figwort family (like the garden Mimulus or monkey flower).

Bringing Nature Up Close

What the Wetland Centre is famous for — birds nice and close up in the city.
But there’s much more … much closer …

(All the images can be viewed a bit larger from your browser’s menu;
most likely right-click the mouse and choose something like ‘View image’)

The WWT’s London Wetland Centre of course brings nature close, from faraway reedmarshes to a corner of our great city. But today I want to look at some features which go much further, bringing nature within touching distance, even if the observer is in a buggy or wheelchair.

The Wetland Centre achieves this with a whole lot of ideas, implemented in robust and attractive materials. One is the accessible pond, in the Thames Water Pond Zone. Here, there are raised ponds (about knee height) surrounded by asphalt, so a group can get up close. The sides are made of railway sleeper-sized chunks of wood, arranged for convenient sitting, and there are built-in interpretation signs with well-drawn pictures of common pond animals. Pond-dipping is allowed under supervision.

Accessible Pond, with Interpretation Key to Pond Animals

The Pond Zone actually has a different kind of accessible pond, more like an aquarium: a robust concrete tank, with an impressive front wall of 50mm thick bullet glass. This is presumably intended to let visitors get really close to (well, 50 mm away from) the pondlife, but not to touch. Ingenious, but it doesn’t feel as natural as the railway-sleeper pond, for my money.

Pond-Aquarium: impressive bullet glass

Accessibility goes for plants as well. Here’s the Herb Garden, next to the beautiful thatched reedbed museum, again with chunky wood to sit down on. Very cosy.

Accessible Herbs – bay, rosemary, thyme and more.

Ok, so that’s ponds and herbs. How about Accessible Bees? The towering bee homes (there are several of them) are certainly talking points.

Bee Home as a towering feature.

The spacious Rain Garden has some nice touches, like an array of large boulders sporting mosses and lichens.

Gloriously lichen- and moss-clad boulders adorn the Rain Garden

Nearby is a very pretty loggery. The fungi are certainly flourishing.

Handsome saprophytic Bracket Fungi on the traditional Loggery

The planting beside the main building puts a giant flowering Rosemary bush against the brickwork, to stylish effect.

Rosemary demonstrating what an elegant plant it is, against reclaimed London Yellow Stock brickwork

Some of the hides have low ‘green’ rooves. This one is covered in masses of the bushy lichen Cladonia ramulosa with attractive chocolatey apothecia (fruiting bodies). Some red Stonecrop lurks in the background (you can’t have everything). It’s definitely “nature up close”.

The ground-dwelling lichen Cladonia ramulosa on the green roof of a birdwatching hide.
Magnification about x4: that’s “nature up close”.


Spring in February at the Wetland Centre

Accessible Nature … silence, birds, and sunshine in the clamorous city

Well I don’t seem to have made it to the Wetland Centre for ages, but this gloriously sunny day was irresistible. It was an astonishingly quiet cycle ride along the river and through the backstreets, away from the grinding traffic.

Common Gull (greeny-yellow legs), a lot bigger than the Black-Headed Gull (ok, the gull with a chocolate-brown hood on the front of its head, breeding plumage only)

The centre was even quieter, as far as engine noise was concerned; from the hides over the Main Lake, birdsong, or rather the sharp calls of ducks and gulls, was all I could hear. The paths and play areas were heaving with families on Half-Term, young fathers looking unexpectedly burdened with excited and active toddlers.

Bathing Bliss – Black-Headed Gulls getting the grease, dirt, and perhaps parasites out of their plumage

The birds, marvellously undisturbed, got on with their normal behaviour: I watched dominant/submissive social interactions, and of course preening and bathing in the calm shallow water.

Teal with Reedy Reflections in the glorious sunshine

The different gulls showed off a rich variety of breeding and immature plumages, of which each species has many. At this time of year, the species look maximally different, as they signal their fitness to potential partners.

The Great Blackback Gull isn’t called Great for nothing! In the background, Black-Headed and Herring Gulls, a lot smaller

Ducks seen included Pintail, Teal, Mallard, Tufted, Shoveler, Wigeon, Pochard, and Gadwall. A mob of Lapwings, perhaps a hundred strong, got up from the islands from time to time, accompanied by Starlings that seem to be convinced they are waders and waterbirds. Cetti’s Warblers called loudly from all over. Long-Tailed Tits whirred about between the willows. Greenfinches wheezed their extraordinary but hardly tuneful spring song and massed on the bird-feeders; Chaffinches hopped about on the ground beneath them, hoovering up the crumbs. Children jumped up and down in the Splashometer puddles and on the deliberately wobbly rope suspension bridge cunningly set at water-level. Mothers wondered how to dry out their shoes. Grandads licked ice cream cones. I saw 32 species of bird, and enjoyed the Common Orange Lichen on the slate roof of the Wildside hide.

Common Orange Lichen (Xanthoria parietina) and other species on the Wildside hide roof