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)

Sunday, 12 December 2010

Robin

"Art thou the Bird whom Man loves best,
The pious Bird with the scarlet breast,
Our little English Robin;
The Bird that comes about our doors
When Autumn winds are sobbing?"
From 'The Redbreast and the Butterfly' by William Wordsworth

(European) Robin Erithacus rubecula (20/12/2009)

No apologies for the shameless sentimentality of this seasonal picture! I came across this particularly friendly Robin taken near Tringford Reservoir and it got me me thinking about why the Robin Erithacus rubecula has become a symbol of Christmas and traditionally appears on cards and decorations. The first card depicting a Robin appeared in the 1860's, the bird pictured delivering an envelope and Postmen at the time wore red tunics and were nicknamed 'Robin Redbreasts'. I assumed that there would be an interesting folk tale or myth that explained this close association with the Christmas season, but the truth is much simpler. With food scarcer, Robins are at their most tame and visible in the winter and their bright red breast, often puffed up to help retain warmth brings colour to dull wintry surroundings. Male Robins often sing in the winter to establish territory and their sweet song undoubtedly would have filled people with the promise of Spring and better weather to come to. Perhaps, as the familiar birds of summer slowly melted away people felt they could rely on the Robin to stay with them and brave the winter, to keep them company and cheer them up through the long dark days. So the Robin has long been a part of the festive season and when cards became popular in Victorian times they soon became a popular subject and in 1960 officially became Britain's national bird. Of course, what people didn't realise is that the Robin in their garden may well have come from Northern Europe to spend the winter here!There is however a wealth of Folklore surrounding the Robin with perhaps the strangest tale being that if one finds a dead body it will cover it with leaves and moss. In the ancient tale of the Babes in the Wood a Robin carefully covers the dead bodies of the two lost children with leaves. It seems a bizarre idea but perhaps it stems from observations of Robins throwing leaves around as they search for food on the forest floor.

"Can this be the Bird, to man so good,
Our consecrated Robin!
That, after their bewildering,
Did cover with leaves the little children,
So painfully in the wood?"
From 'The Redbreast and the Butterfly' by William Wordsworth

An old superstition says that it is very bad luck to kill a Robin and according to one story if you do your hands will never stop shaking. At least this has meant that the Robin has always been revered and treated well by man. As a gardener I am well used to Robins pottering around my feet, perching on Spades and Wheel Barrows and very occasionally taking a worm from my hand, but this is a sign of how well we have treated these iconic birds for centuries. Sadly this is not the case in some parts of Southern Europe where Robins along with many other small birds are still trapped and eaten in huge numbers. This persecution has meant Robins are very shy and wary and often hard to see. A few years ago we spent a cheap and cheerful week in Tenerife and it took me until the end of the holiday before I eventually found a Robin (since split as Tenerife Robin), skulking deep in the undergrowth of a montane pine forest.

There are several tales explaining the origin of the red breast which centre around acts of kindness by the "pious" and "consecrated" Robin. Its was believed that a Robin pulled a thorn from the crown that had pierced the head of Jesus Christ as he made his way to the cross and was splattered with blood. In another story the birds breast was burnt while carrying water to sinners in hell. It is ironic that such an aggressive and occasionally murderous bird has gained such a kind and holy reputation!

Wolf's Milk Slime Mould

When I found these strange pink blobs while I was photographing fungus at Rammamere Common last month, I honestly thought that someone has stuck some old bubble gum to a fallen Birch truck. I initially thought that it was a fungus, possibly Coral Spot, but found out later that it was actually a Plasmodial Slime Mould called Wolf's Milk Lycogala epidendrum. How it got this strange name name I can't imagine, but Lycogala actually means Wolf's Milk and although easily mistaken for a fungus is in fact completely unrelated. If the outer wall of the young balls is broken they excrete a pink paste-like fluid which gives the mould it's other name, Toothpaste Slime. The fruiting bodies occur either scattered or in small groups as small, cushion-like blobs that usually turn browner when as they become more mature. Wolf's Milk is found from June to November on damp wood and large logs throughout Europe and North America.

Wolf's Milk Slime Mould Lycogala epidendrum

Bohemian Waxwing


More Waxwings! But who could resist a flock of 40 of these gorgeous birds on a bright and beautiful sunny morning only a few miles from home. Typically, these birds had chosen to settle in the picturesque surroundings of the Tesco car park in Leyton Buzzard and to be honest, as I arrived I had an attack of cold feet and was almost tempted to turn round and drive home. There's something slightly cringe-making about bird watching in these sort of places, being stared at by shoppers who obviously think you are a bit of a twit and can't understand why you would possibly want to spend your Sunday morning watching birds when you could be Christmas shopping! Maybe it's just me, but I find the whole thing a bit embarrassing and it doesn't help being surrounded by photographers clad from head to toe in camouflaged clothing, which as we all know is vital for blending into the concrete habitat of a supermarket car park! Perhaps I will have to grow a thicker skin! Nevertheless the stunning birds soon took my mind off the hideous surroundings and I managed to grab these photos as the birds fed busily on the blood red berries of a group small Rowan trees, before suddenly flying off purposefully southwards.






Bohemian Waxwing Bombycilla garrulus (Leyton Buzzard, 12/12/2010)

Thursday, 2 December 2010

Bohemian Waxwing

At last! I spent the last days of November in an increasingly agitated state wondering if I was ever going to catch up with some Waxwings this year. With the severe weather in the north driving them southwards it seemed inevitable that a few of these wonderful birds would turn up in the Tring area. Unfortunately it was equally inevitable that when they did I would manage to miss them! A small group of 8 were found last Saturday and were briefly relocated again the next morning, but I was too late on the scene on both occasions. I spent a fruitless hour or so on Sunday morning scouring the residential streets of Tring carefully checking all the Rowan trees and other promising berry laden shrubs, but sadly they were not seen again.
Luckily some Waxwings chose to settle at Woburn in the same street lined with ornamental white Rowan trees that had been graced by a small flock earlier in the year. The snowfall in the night had made garden work almost impossible, so I gave myself the day off and took the opportunity to drive over to see them. Apparently there had been over 100 birds in the town earlier in the day which would have been quite a sight, but when I arrived at midday the numbers had fallen to small skittish flock of 24. Having gorged themselves on berries all morning the birds spent long periods perched high in the bare branches of a distant tree silhouetted against an ice blue winter sky, only occasionally dashing down to the Rowans for a few seconds to grab some berries in a half hearted way. It was almost as if they felt they ought to be feed as it was so cold, but actually couldn't be bothered because they were so full! The result was that I struggled to get any decent shots of the birds feeding and after a couple of hours the creeping numbness of my fingers and toes signalled to me that it was time to head home to the warmth and a cup of tea.

Bohemian Waxwing Bombycilla garrulus (Woburn, 30/11/2010)

Bohemian Waxwing Bombycilla garrulus (Woburn, 30/11/2010)

Wilstone Reservoir

We are in the middle of the 'big freeze' as the newspapers love to call it, but in this area we seem to have avoided the worst of the weather. At least so far! Being so centrally located and far from the coast in every direction does have it's advantages as we have only caught the fringes of the really bad weather. Wilstone Reservoir froze very rapidly after a couple of bitter nights, perhaps because the water is so shallow at the moment and the last remaining small patch of open water was soon crammed with a busy gaggle of Coots, Mute Swans and Ducks. I have been up to the reservoir once or twice at the end of the day but the sunsets have been a bit of a non event, so I have dug out these picturesque photos of a frozen Wilstone taken on a beautiful evening just before Christmas in 2008.

Sunset at Wilstone Reservoir (December 2008)

Wigeon on the ice at Wilstone Reservoir (December 2008)

Sunset at Wilstone Reservoir (December 2008)

Ducks at Wilstone Reservoir (December 2008)