Tag Archives: Teal

Natural History

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

Love of Nature, Natural Patterns, Nature Reserves

Warm Wet Winter Day at Wraysbury Lakes

Wet Blackened Rose Hips

The day was exceptionally warm after the chilly winter weather. The hedgerow plants dripped gently. I liked the colours and light on these blackened rose-hips, still somehow looking invitingly fruity.

The path too was covered in blackened leaves, wet and slippery. On the lake, half-a-dozen Goldeneye, a couple of Pochard, a few Teal, some Tufted Duck, a few Mallard. Apart from the ducks, a couple of Cormorants, two young and very white Great Crested Grebes. On the meadows, a Green Woodpecker, flocks of Goldfinches, scattered Redwing and Fieldfare, a flock of Carrion Crows.

Rutted grassy track

Love of Nature, Natural History, Nature Reserves, Wetlands, Wildlife

Bullfinch! Winter Walk Hits Target

Winter has definitely set in. The spinach beet in my garden was all frozen, the air at -3 Celsius and the ground presumably rather colder under a clear night sky. Fearing it might all be lost, I picked some and went out to see what there might be today down at Wraysbury Lakes.

Almost the first thing I saw was a bulky little finch high in a waterside willow. It called ‘deu’ quite loudly, fidgeted about and flew before I could focus on it. Still, there was no doubt it was a Bullfinch: the call, its shape, its solitary habits, and its shyness all pointing the same way. It is never an easy bird to see, even where it is resident (it is regularly ringed at Wraysbury). Leafless trees and the rising energy of the coming breeding season provide one of the few opportunities to catch a glimpse of this less well known finch.

At first sight there seemed to be no birds out on the lake. Finding a small illicit patch cleared by a fisherman I set up the telescope and looked about. A Pochard or two; some Tufted Duck and Coot; a male Goldeneye… but the Smew and Goosander of a week or two ago were nowhere to be seen. The old truth is that you  never know what you’ll see: but it’s often a delightful surprise, and almost always energizing to be out in nature.

I walked on and looked about again: some rather white ducks caught my eye in the distance. Two male Goldeneye,  each with a female in tow. The males threw their heads forward a few times, pretended to preen; one threw his head back and forth, then lowered his head and stretched it out and in. His female swam after him, her head resting on her back as if she were asleep! But she was certainly watching the display, and swimming to keep up a few lengths behind.

A loud squawk betrayed a Heron; it flapped out of cover at the end of the lake and landed on the bank behind the ducks. A few Mallard panicked from the water below me; a Moorhen briefly took flight.

Away from the lake, a few Robin and Dunnock hopped in and out of the bushes. A solitary Fieldfare or two gave their chack-chack call from the hawthorns, watchful and flighty. Another Bullfinch calling, this time atop a bare hawthorn bush – or maybe the same bird, half a mile on – and again I couldn’t get binoculars on to it, despite my stealthiest movements: it had surely seen me at once, and just took a few seconds to decide when to flee.

A Kestrel hovered beyond the tall poplars: no Buzzards or Red Kites today, but really the Kestrel feels almost more special than them, its numbers declining across Britain.

A few Jackdaws, Carrion Crows and Wood Pigeons on the horses’ hill; some Fieldfares in the trees, with a single Redwing; a Stock Dove flying low.