Regular readers will know by now that I love winter. Winter skies are astonishingly beautiful and any BS9-ers will have been treated to some sensational morning/evening skies these past few days, including the wolf moon last night.
One of the other things I appreciate this season for, however, is the way we sometimes get to glimpse the more secretive wild dwellers that are swamped by spring/ summer abundance.
We are so lucky to have all the natural spaces on our doorstep here in BS9, and if we have 2 or 4 wheels at our disposal it is easy to travel to a variety of natural spectacles. Today I focus on the lesser known stars of the reed beds. I spent some time this week up the road at Slimbridge, but you could just as easily pop over the bridge to Newport wetlands or south to Chew Valley Lake for more reed bed rewards. I’d love to hear about your reed bed hot spots – comment below if there are some more local ones that you can enlighten me about!
January is the perfect time to search for bashful birds in the reeds. Wetlands are bursting at the seams with clamourous birds, gathering, resting and feeding by the water’s edge, but my quarry was more elusive and harder to spot. However, with binoculars in one hand, hot coffee flask in the other, and a dash of patience, I was rewarded with three snipe and two water rail. Really Slimbridge is the place to be in my opinion, as I have never failed to see these two from the hides in the winter.
With a blue tit gorging itself on the downy seeds from the bullrushes as foreground, and clouds of lapwing and golden plover shaping the sky behind, the snipes emerged from between the curtains of reeds to settle on fringed islets. Like a cross between Pinocchio and a humbug, they are ingeniously camouflaged but intensely beautiful. I watched them probing the mud between the ice with their sensitive bills (they have motion sensors in them to help detect food in the water) and mostly striving for the best spot for a good preen with that long straight bill, wing stretch and daytime sleep.
A different hide, a different find; this time two busy water rails. They remind me of wrens on steroids, with their perky little tails cocked up over their squat backs. Sharing their space with a moorhen quite amicably they foraged the boundaries of the reed beds for small animals and plants, occasionally disappearing for a squabble among the vegetation, the only evidence of their whereabouts the high pitched call often described as sounding like a squealing piglet!
For me, the bittern remains the elusive reed dweller still to be found. I would love to hear if anyone has spotted a bittern nearby – and where! Tell me in the comments below. For now, I remain delighted by my winter finds among the tired reeds and mud, between the ducks standing with cold feet on the frozen water and cranes too big to be true astounding us at a distance. Tigered wings, scarlet bills, a hush and a furtive charm for a January day.
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