Sunday 19 December 2010

Wilstone Reservoir


The brief respite in the cold weather is over all too soon and winter has roared back with teeth bared and the countryside is once again in it's vice-like grip, iron hard and blanketed in deep powdery snow. It looks very beautiful, but with several nights of hard frosts and bitterly cold days ahead, life promises to be very hard for the local wildlife. I spent most of the day clearing snow in my little back garden and scattering vast amounts of food on small bare patches of ground for the beleaguered birds, most of which is being rapidly hoovered up by a gang of greedy Woodpigeons that regularly make smash and grab raids that are costing me a fortune! I've been regularly filling a bowl with hot water which the local Starlings seem to love. They fly down from my TV aerial and dive in, squabbling and splashing around and generally having a great time - a sort of Starling sauna! I've even managed to tempt a few House Sparrows away from a neighbouring garden where they seem to spend most of their time. More and more Chaffinches are arriving each day and today a Black-headed Gull dropped in for a few nervous seconds to grab some bread.

One of the last pools of clear water left at Wilstone (19/12/2010)

Wilstone Reservoir is almost completely frozen again with just a couple of tiny pools of clear water left, now crammed to bursting point with a frenzied gaggle of Coot, Grebes, Mute Swans and a variety of ducks - Wigeon, Pochard, a smattering of Tea and Mallard, and a miserable looking Red-crested Pochard, head tucked firmly under a wing, fast asleep on the ice. A Kingfisher, plainly struggling to feed in the brutal conditions sat forlornly on the concrete bank, occasionally making brief fruitless forays over the last small patches of open water. If I was a Kingfisher I think I'd be packing my bags and heading for the coast!



Wilstone Reservoir (07/12/2010)

Earlier in December, after a fiercely cold night, Wilstone Reservoir resembled a scene from Narnia trapped in an eternal winter. The distant trees thickly clad in hoar frost, floated like ghosts in the fog and everything was bathed in an otherworldly pale and sickly light. It was not hard to imagine the White Witch materialising out of the mist and gliding across the ice on a sledge pulled by Reindeer!

Ice at sunset, Wilstone Reservoir (07/12/2008)

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