Wind and Wildfowl

On New Year’s Day, as we drove down the long path from the main road to the car park of Fen Drayton Lakes, a strong wind was already whistling and the overcast sky exhibited a broad spectrum of greys. While this may not sound like the perfect weather to visit a nature reserve, it emphasised the bleakly beautiful nature of Fen Drayton perfectly.

Fen Drayton: The lakes start just paces from the car park

The reserve lies on a piece of land which has changed profoundly over the centuries. If one stands now looking across the lakes and reed beds, it is hard to believe that a few hundred years ago this area would have been used as pasture for grazing cattle, rolling gently down to the banks of the River Great Ouse. The landscape that we see today at Fen Drayton is the result of many years of intensive quarrying. The quarrying began in 1941 in the midst of international war and did not cease until in 1997. At this time the pits were filled with water to create the wonderful habitats we see today.

Untamed beauty

If you are looking for water birds, this is an excellent place to come. Within seconds of leaving the car we were at our first lake and it had already become abundantly clear why this is known to be such a birdwatchers' paradise. As we looked through our binoculars we started a game of who could identify the different species first. The menagerie which was settled on the water consisted of egrets, mute swans, coots, little grebes and tufted ducks. A cormorant flew gracefully across the sky, creating a striking silhouette against the ashen clouds.

The wind rustles the reeds and whips up waves on the lake

Leaving the first lake, we crossed a field abundant with teasel. Their menacingly thorned stems quivered in the strong breeze, making their prickly heads bob gently. Hungry goldfinches perched on the teasel heads, pecking enthusiastically at the seeds. They demonstrated how their long slender beaks are perfectly shaped for feeding in this way. Another bird with a stubbier beak would not be so successful if he were to attempt to make this plant his dinner.

The prickly heads on teasel won't keep hungry goldfinches away

As we ambled further across the field, we were met with the now familiar laughter of a flock of fieldfares. They darted quickly between the teasel stems and dense hawthorn bushes, appearing as dynamic flashes of brown and grey.

If it hadn’t been clear from the sight of the water, the strident and unmistakeable calls of coots would have made it apparent that we were now only a few paces from the next lake. It was shrouded in willow trees which provided perfect perches for cormorants, woodpigeons and long-tailed tits alike. We could tell that a rabbit had also frequented this spot, from the pile of droppings he had left behind. A charm of around thirty goldfinches streaked across the lake, displaying their saffron tinged wings, and dropped down into a field near-by. Although the collective term ‘charm’ is derived from ‘chattering’, the striking, magical quality of goldfinches makes its modern meaning seem equally appropriate.

A lone goldfinch sits apart from the charm

Out on the lake there were more water birds to be seen. A male and female pochard, distinguishable owing to the male’s scarlet head, floated serenely along beside each other. In contrast, a small group of male tufted ducks were diving enthusiastically into the deep of the lake to feed.

I find it interesting to watch the different feeding methods of water birds. If you were to walk on quickly without pausing, it is perhaps something you wouldn’t notice. Mallards and teals, for example, are dabblers. They will often just feed on the surface but, if they do want to reach something deeper, they will submerge their heads, keeping their tail feathers exposed above the water. On the other hand, tufted ducks, little grebes and great crested grebes will dive for their dinner and entirely submerge their bodies underwater. It can sometimes be frustrating when you catch sight of one these birds, grab your binoculars, and by the time you’ve got the focus right, the bird has dived and is nowhere to be seen. At least in the case of a dabbler you can locate them by the sight of their rear poking out above the water.

You'll often hear a coot's distinctive screech before you see it

After another short stretch, we came across a lagoon guarded by thick reeds. In the summer, this will probably be an excellent place to see a variety of dragonflies, butterflies and other invertebrates but, in the winter, there is the potential to see a number of water birds which reside amongst the reeds. One such bird, which we were lucky enough to see on this pond, is the gadwall. At first I thought that the female gadwall was a mallard but Andrew pointed out its smaller frame and darker bill. Then, the male gadwall emerged from the reeds behind her. He was much more noticeably different from a mallard, with his elaborate grey and brown back and a shock of black feathers at his tail.

We left the lagoon and were heading back towards the start of our walk, when we noticed a tree with an interesting looking fungus growing on it. It appeared to us to be a bracket fungus, but I’ve attached a photo below and I’d love to know if anyone has a different idea or can identify it more precisely.

A bracket fungus? Give us your thoughts!

Further along, we passed another lake where we caught sight of a green woodpecker. It sped over the water in an emerald blur and perched on a tree, giving us a good chance to admire it.

As we approached our starting point, we came back to the original lake near the car park. The same species of birds we had seen before were still there, but they were now joined by a crowd of sixteen shovelers and about eight great crested grebes. I can’t help but feel that the great crested grebes must be the supermodels of the water birds, with their long slim necks and, when in their breeding plumage, their fancy hairdos. We were also lucky enough to see a heron sweep elegantly across the lake and settle amongst the natural scrub and reeds of the bank. They really are magnificent birds.

Abundant golden lichen

We hoped to see more magnificent birds before we left in the form of the great murmurations of starlings for which Fen Drayton is famous. We’ve been told by numerous people that the best place to see the murmurations is at the lake beside the car park. Therefore, we arrived at the lake just before dusk and waited for the show. Andrew has seen starling murmurations before but it was to be a first for me so I was particularly excited by the prospect. We were a little concerned that the weather would dissuade the starlings from gathering in their usual numbers but nonetheless we thought it was worth the wait just in case.

The mix of water, reed beds and trees provides a diverse range of habitats

Not long before dark, a small group of around forty starlings rose from a tree and began to dance about, swooping nimbly across the lake. They then dropped suddenly into a nearby tree and the lake fell silent. This happened several times, and on each occasion we wondered whether they would be joined by other groups of starlings and build into the thousand-strong murmurations which had been seen at other times. Unfortunately, with no other starlings having joined in the whirl, the sun set.

The gradual gradients at the sides of the lagoons provide a good feeding platform for wildfowl

Although I was hoping for a larger murmuration, the noise of just this small group of starlings was pretty magnificent, and their appearance against the dusky pink clouds is certainly an image that will stay with me.

We returned to the car wind-battered and chilly but immensely satisfied with how many birds we had identified and added to our year lists within only one day of 2015. If only we could keep adding species at this rate for every other day of the year!

Fen Drayton: A great place to start 2015