Richard Bell's nature sketchbook since 1998
Stonecrop, viper’s bugloss, marsh woundwort, bream, banded demoiselle and a family of swans on our walk alongside the canal and the Calder today. Now we’re past midsummer’s day racken and bramble have grown up shoulder high, trees are in full leaf and on the riverside path, tall grasses are going to seed
In my animation, the swan is anything but mute as it introduces my Ode to a Duck.
Having now produced several ‘puppets’ using the Adobe Character Animator template, I’m much more familiar with the basics and more confident that it will actually work. There are plenty of optional tweaks that I could introduce but for this animated cartoon I’ve stuck to face-on characters which don’t walk or fly about, basically they’re talking heads.
It’s that time of year again, when there are still wintering wildfowl –gadwall, wigeon and tufted duck – on the lakes at Nostell but the summer migrants have already started to arrive. A chiff-chaff, just in from Africa, was singing from the top branches of a birch near the Cascade. It’s performance seemed a bit offhand. It doesn’t set itself up at a song post as a blackbird would, but just breaks off foraging along the branches and rattles off a few phrases wherever it happens to be:
“Chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, chiff.”
As we arrive at the Adam Bridge at Nostell, a mute swan is chasing an intruder around the Lower Lake. After a few minutes the unwelcome visitor gets the message and flies off.
A blue tit takes nesting material into a cavity in a dead tree on the lake shore. I was pleased to see one taking a beak-full of moss into the nestbox in our rowan. The box has now been there a couple of years but has yet to be used.
Also carrying nesting material, a jackdaw perching on top of the high brick wall around the vegetable garden at Nostell. Its mate emerged and flew off and the jackdaw popped down inside.
The first day of spring and it’s the first cut for the lawn. I push the mower over three times, first on its highest setting to take the top off, then medium and finally – going at right-angles to my previous cuts – on the lowest.
I’ve got an electric strimmer, which might have been useful around the edges, but I prefer to use the hand mower because it’s quieter and I don’t feel the need to put on goggles and ear protectors. It’s a good work-out too.
The first day of spring also seemed like the perfect time to make a fresh start on my Wild Yorkshire mailing list. If you’d like a weekly update, please subscribe below. You can of course unsubscribe at any time.
De Atramentis Document Ink in my Lamy Vista fountain pen and so far it’s working perfectly, showing no hint of running when I add a watercolour wash. My thanks to dapplegrey for suggesting that I try it.
Invisible Horse, blog by dapplegrey
Five pink-footed geese have touched down on the Middle Lake at Nostell Priory, but they’ve been spotted.
The cob mute swan of the lake’s resident family increases his speed as he draws nearer to them and the geese appear to be increasingly uneasy.
They soon decide that it’s time to make an exit and they take off heading down the lake, then double back to fly up the lake, heading off in the direction that they appeared from, only fifteen minutes earlier.
The goosanders (in the foreground in my last photograph) don’t get involved.
The cob mute swan has defending his territory uppermost in his mind. He spends a lot of time looking up at the small waterfall where the overflow channel beneath the bridge on the Doncaster Road flows through from the Upper Lake. There’s another family of swans on that lake and I’m sure they’d expand into our resident cob’s territory if they got the chance.
Meanwhile the four cygnets of the Middle Lake family are looking increasingly like adults, with fewer and fewer grey patches. I’m afraid that he will soon want them to move on, so that he and the pen can start raising their next brood.
10.30 a.m.: Most of the mallards and mute swans, along with a female goosander and a female wigeon, have gathered in a patch of open water on sunny side of the frozen Lower Lake at Nostell but increasing numbers of mallard are making their way to the corner near Sheep Bridge, where there’s a chance that visitors might feed them.
Not wanting to be left out, the resident swan family starts making its way over, keeping close to the shore where the ice is thinnest.
I think that it’s the male, the cob, that is taking the lead, pushing through the ice. He’s the larger of the pair and has a thicker a neck than the female.
Males have a larger knob on their bills than the females but I can’t see much of a difference between the two. Perhaps this is something that becomes more pronounced as spring, and the mating season, arrives.
RSPB Old Moor, 10.40 a.m., 39ºF, 4ºC, Reedbed Hide: We passed through a snow shower on the way here but as we walk to the Reedbed Hide there are only a few sleety spots in the wind.
Two mute swans are upending by the reeds as they make their way to their nest site, a mound of reeds.
A great crested grebe motors over towards the swans, calling as he nears them (judging by the large cheek frills, this is the male). It’s a surprisingly loud call for what I think of as one of the quietest of wildfowl. My bird book describes the grebe’s spring calls as ‘a series of guttural far-reaching “rah-rah-rah” notes’. But, instead of skirmishing with the swans, as we thought he might do, he dives near them. Perhaps when he saw how large they are in close up he decided not to escalate the situation.
Mid-lagoon, two male and one female tufted ducks are diving.
IT’S GOOD to be back at Newmillerdam and on a morning like this I can’t resist at least trying to paint a lightning watercolour (below) when we stop for coffee and, as we set off back along the lakeshore, I’m tempted to try to photograph a couple of families of waterbirds.
Much as I like my Olympus Tough, it does struggle with anything animate as several seconds can pass between pressing the button and the photograph actually being taken, so there’s always an element of luck involved.
A few weeks ago we saw one of the mute swan cygnets tucked between the wings of one of the parents as it swam along, a wise precaution as some of the pike in Newmillerdam are enormous and would be capable of pulling a young cygnet below the surface. The other cygnet followed closely in it’s lake with the other parent bringing up the rear and keeping a watchful eye on the family.
I notice in this morning’s photograph that the male, the cob, is leading. He’s got that projection above his bill.
I squat down to see if the coots near the boathouse will feed their young on freshwater mussels again, as they did last month. One of the parents dives down a couple of times but in the short time that I’m watching catches nothing. As I’m kneeling there a toddler, who has just picked up a feather, and his mum come and stand alongside us.
‘Can you tell me how many baby birds there are?’ she asks him.
‘One, two, three, four . . . and two mummy birds.’
‘They could be a mummy and a daddy?’ suggests his grandad.
‘Are you allowed to say that nowadays?’ I ask.
‘It’s not P.C.’ says grandad, ‘but I think with coots we can be fairly sure.’
‘Even a coot is entitled to life choices.’ I suggest.
‘We’re not doing mummies and daddies yet,’ explains mum, ‘just the babies.’
It’s good to hear parents and grandparents encouraging young children to explore the world of nature and not to put them off with too much health and safety.
This brood of coot youngsters have lost their ginger top-knots and the hint of red on their beaks that they had a month ago and they’re now in the sober plumage of adolescent chicks.
Further up the lake we see a single great-crested grebe. We’ve previously seen a pair here and I hope that some day we’ll see them with their stripy young again.