(very) mini documentary on the early family life of the Coots

I know I should probably be revising instead, but have taken the evening off to put a short video together about the new coot families arriving at the lake, whilst unveiling a nasty secret about their family lives...

Spring is here! (apparently)

 The snow has been falling, the wind blowing, and the rain pouring down onto Nottingham - of course this can only mean its spring. It has been a while since I took a visit to the university lake, and despite the recent strange weather, it is like somebody has waved a wand over the lake, transforming it while I have been home for Easter. The black headed gulls that were so numerous have vanished and taken with them the grey and drab cloth that swamped us over winter. In every corner of the lake a nest has risen out of the water to host a coot family that is soon to arrive. Some new arrivals on the lake who looked like something crafted by the devil himself, and a slightly older friend from last term I was a delight to meet again too. Everything is happening on the lake, and I can’t wait to see what may happen next!

On first arrival, I caught a glimpse of my first nesting Eurasian Coot. There she sat, very satisfied with her arrangement of sticks and leaves piled up high in the water. The lady of the house had to constantly maintain her mound in this shallower part of the lake to avoid her home being swept beneath her with the gentle currents. As usual, I was transfixed by her forthrightness as she was plumping all her leaf cushions, shaking them and patting them down on her bed ready for her babies to arrive. I wasn’t too sure what difference this made as the bed didn’t seemed to change all too much from before she had started organising her nest, but I got the feeling this was a very important task that needed to be attended to.

the Eurasian Coot, very proud of her nest  in the scummy corner
of the lake

While I  felt quite privileged being able to watch this one nest so close, it was not long before I realised coot nests had popped up all over the lake. All along both sides of the lake the water is quite shallow, meaning nine nests in total were made all along the banks of the lake. There was one nest amongst the willow tree branches where the twigs could easily be bundled together, held by the long fingers of the willow branches like a leafed cage around the home. Another had been dumped in a slightly unexpected place, amongst the scurvy and scummy remnants of rubbish, twigs and slime. The gentle currents in the lake pushed surface debris to this south corner of the lake, perhaps making it easy to gather nearby items quickly, before it would be broken down by the slow running water.

The nest tucked into the bank of the lake, and the Coot pruning
her feathers in the rain

believe it or not a family live here!

In contrary to my initial thoughts, it soon became apparent that the coots had no good sense of housekeeping at all in their nest building. While they did spend a substantial amount of time ensuring the nest remained sturdy and intact, this is the point that I stopped agreeing with their requirements of a good home. I came across yet another nest in the lake in one of the grimiest locations they could have chosen. Between some black railings and a few willow branches that had rooted amongst a pile of stagnant rubbish settled my best find of the day. Out from behind the rubbish, emerged three ugly and wrinkly individuals, with heads red like fire with tufts of burnt off feathers, sprouting out these strange evil looking minions’ necks. I laughed to myself as the coot parents doted upon these horrible children, a parent’s love really is blind.

the ugly little chick next to an unhatched egg

While I was happy to see the new arrivals, my heart leapt when I found a slightly older friend who I had met last term. I was concerned after walking most of the way around the lake and catching no sign of the Egyptian Goose family. My worries were set aside however, when then there he was, barely recognisable, a gangly and strange looking teenage chick, bumbling around on the boat ramp. The father was nowhere to be seen, as Billy (which I have now named him) is old enough to only need the care of one parent. The transformation that can happen in the space of a month is still hard to believe. The look of strength in his legs now was phenomenal, fully grown and just waiting for his adolescent body to catch up. His body was now half the size of an adult, and his proper juvenile feathers had come through. It was magical to see him from the fluffy little ball I had first met curled up in the sun. Through frosts, and wind, and snow, rain and sleet, this little chick had grown up so much and it was a wonderful thing to see.

mother and chick, or now teenager

Billy looking very gangly - still has a lot of growing to do!

A well earn't break and a trip to the University lake

Today the sun was shining, and having spent the last few weeks shut away, slaving over a dissertation, I decided it fit to take a stroll to see what the university lake had on offer. I was thrilled with what I saw. The first of the chicks for this year was pottering around the shallows, the lesser black-headed gulls were dancing like fighter planes in the wind, and the swans seemed like they had mastered the technique in gaining every ounce of respect from their peers – well most of them had it sussed anyway.

Last week I had been lucky enough to see four Egyptian Goose chicks scuttling around the lake as I was undertaking a practical with the university catching invertebrates. I had not thought to bring my camera, but came back a few days ago to see how they were getting on. I was disheartened to find that only one chick remained from this clutch, and so came back today, willing him to still be alive, having survived the harsh frosts of last week. It comes to no surprise that these doting parents have been struggling to support their children when there is still frost on the ground, and a biting wind in the air. However, after being assured by the the chick's mother and father that the he would be looked after with all the care they could provide, I carried on my jaunt to see mass of gulls at the end of the lake, as something was drawing a crowd.

Checking that I am not up to mischief and am staying a good distance from her chick

the chick sleeping in the sun, with dad grooming his feathers

The Egyptian Goose chick (ironically not actually classified as a goose)

On arriving at the madness of diving, and squawking, and swooping and squeaking, I soon realised what the fuss was about. An older man was providing quite a feast, and each time the little man threw some food out of his trolley, it attracted a swarm of locust like gulls that would dive down to crash land on the grass for a meal. Each bomber would waste no time in redeeming their dignity from the fall, and instead would snatch a snack, or begin to scream to their neighbour to hand over the winnings without a moments hesitation. I laughed when one wave would cease for a moment and the gulls would sore back into the sky, to leave the shell-shocked mallards below. The ducks had a completely different tactic to eating their dinner, as they plodded along through the grass, continuously wiggling their bottoms side to side, in hope of picking up something that the all too frantic gulls may have missed. Once the man left with his food, the fun was over far too quickly, and I left the ducks to rummage through the crumbs to pay the swans a visit.

the man with his bag of food

the black headed gulls diving for food

the gulls flying off after their feast

There were three swans who seemed quite at home at the lake, and even though I couldn’t be sure if it was Elizabeth, Philip and Charlie from Wollaton, I was certain that this family would provide just as much entertainment. First I met one of the parents. He was more in charge of this area of the lake than I thought a bird could ever be, with feathers raised above his back, sitting on the floor – not a duck nor a goose dare to argue with him. At one point a female mallard tottered close in hope of getting a share of food within the vicinity of the swan, before she was hissed away so the swan could carry on his meal in peace. The other parent, alike the first, was a very important figure in this group. She walked around, and ate her food with little disruption from any minion that was inhabiting the area at the time. While this swan was very beautiful, I could not help but be distracted by a younger swan who was last year’s chick, and who just seemed to be a little too distracted to be part of the royal family today. He stood away from any of the food that had been thrown on the floor, and looked at me full of attitude but equally as lacking in the ability to instil any sense of fear in me. He first wiggled his neck low in front of his body, before stretching it high, and then holding it in one peculiar shape that made me wonder if he’d forgotten how to be a swan at all, let alone one exerting any sense of importance over anyone else. It must be said that while I was not afraid of the juvenile, I still kept my distance, careful not to aggravate any desire to chase me away or worse.

The swan seems to have his eye on a Coot who dared to come near

One of my most regal shots of a swan 

The juvenile trying to state his territory, I kept my distance

The juvenile again, showing his size 

The youngster appearing to have given up a little here

After chuckling to myself, with the knowledge that gaining the sense of composure of a swan does clearly take a few years practice, I left the park and got back to my desk. I was refreshed and excited with the thought that this little chick I saw today was the first of many, and that spring was nearly here. Coursework deadlines may loom, but with that comes the bloom of new life that greets us this year.

not so relevant to my story, but I had to upload this picture of a moorhen who was crowching around the side of the lake

The Nightjar project, from the summer of 2015

As a third year student at The University of Nottingham, I have been studying the impact of human disturbance on the breeding of the European nightjar (Caprimulgus europaeus). In the summer of 2015 we surveyed the recreational trail usage in the forest, the wildlife abundance, and breeding success of the nightjar. The surveying of the trails was carried out by myself and a masters student Jack Rayner under the supervision of Dr. Kate Durrant, while the monitoring of nightjar breeding was led by the Birklands Ringing Group.

A little friend we met on one of our surveys

We spent June and August surveying the forest and monitoring the nightjar from around 7am until anywhere between 7pm and 11:30pm five days a week. We cycled around, with our food for the day packed in our bags, and a rake threaded between our rucksack straps. The looks we got from local cyclers was quite amusing, wondering if we were hopelessly trying to garden the forest of Sherwood Pines. We spent half an hour at each survey point, counting all the traffic passing, and the wildlife spotted. The rake was used on the earth paths to track any traffic crossing paths over a 24 hour period, rather like Sherwood Pines CSI. The rest of the time we spent cautiously searching for nightjar nests, and ringing the chicks born in that season. If the weather was suitable, we would set up nets to catch the birds at around 7:30pm. It was fantastic on those evenings to hear the nightjar males making the churring territorial call, and watch the nightjar gliding past us before being caught in the net. The caught nightjar could then be identified, and carefully released back to continue their evening hunt. I thoroughly enjoyed carrying out the field work, and was inspired to find out what is affecting the distribution of these birds.

One of the many bees that were pollinating the heather in
the forest

In previous years from 2001 to 2014, the nightjar of Sherwood pines have been shown to prefer a breeding habitat incurring less frequent human disturbance, however in 2015 we found the nightjar have shown no preference between more or less disturbed areas of the forest. Furthermore, in 2015 there has been a higher portion of nests that fledge chicks, as well as an altogether greater number of nests going on to fledge chicks in areas incurring higher levels of disturbance. Through wildlife surveying we established that predators threatening nightjar breeding such as Corvids and Birds of Prey live in greater densities in the area of the forest incurring a lower level of disturbance. Corvids predate on the nightjar nests, while the Birds of Prey are thought to predate on the adult nightjar. This difference in risk of predation could provide explanation for a lower success in nightjar nests.

A moth we came across quite frequently, not sure which species though? (Please comment if you know!)

A mother nightjar, who is rather  insulted at being disturbed from her afternoon nap

The same mother nighjtar, whatching us with a glaring eye

Historically, nightjar have been shown to be less successful in breeding where human disturbance is greater. In recent years however, we may have found that the nightjar in this forest may have become more habituated to human disturbance, impacting the consideration of the suitability of nightjar habitat in the future.

A buzzard in the early morning, keeping a careful eye on us at work. 

After seeing that Jack and I were carrying out the surveying well, the buzzard left us for more important duties for the day

To Find out more, please take a visit on the Sherwood Pines website! http://www.sherwood-nightjars.com/the-project

The Crafty Cormorant

Last week I took a visit to the university lake where I met a Great Cormorant. His face looked like the cross between that of a dinosaur and a gnarly troll. Given that previous description, it seems impossible for me to like this bird, but given his crafty and wily nature, his phenomenal resilience, and incredible hunting skills I could not help but enjoy the company of this prehistoric animal.

I first caught sight of the cormorant at the side of a lake, basking with his wings welcoming the sun. It is easy not to wonder why the cormorant undertakes the task of drying his wings, but I could not help but think this myself. As his looks would suggest, the Great grey Cormorant is one of the most prehistoric species, along with the Shags. Unlike the more recently evolved water bird species, the cormorants have not evolved a waxy coating on their feathers, and so understandably will get rather wet after a hunt for his fish or whatever meal is available. After becoming sodden from a hopefully successful attempt to catch dinner, the cormorant will stand on a perch for an hour if needed to dry off any water that may not be shaken off. While this characteristic is reasonably interesting, the wing drying behavioural quirk provided scientists with the ability to carry out an experiment revealing something rather more intriguing.

One of the Coromorant standing minding his own business

A cormorant looking back very disapprovingly at me after folding back his wings, and ceasing
to dry his feathers

Recent research has been undertaken to study the migration behaviours of Roach fish. Through use of the cormorant feeding behaviour, evidence has been gathered to demonstrate the reasoning behind migrations. Once a cormorant has caught a fish, he will regurgitate spit balls at the perch on which he is drying his feathers on. If a fish has been pit tagged (a form of microchip-like identification), all morphometric measurements can be taken of that fish, and so we can understand what size fishes are being eaten by the cormorant. It was found that fish spending more time outside a lake would be less likely to be eaten by the cormorants, but will also be less likely to find plentiful food. In addition to this, it was found that the bigger fish were more likely to get caught. Using this information, and the information of when the fish left the lake to migrate, they found that when the risk of being predated outweighed the food benefit provided by a lake over another stream, the fish would leave the lake. Bigger fish were more likely to leave the lake, and especially so when predation pressures were high and less food was available in the lake.

While the cormorant is currently causing great concerns with regards to impact on current biodiversity, given past distributions I cannot help but admire the resilience of this species. Historically, cormorants were regarded as an irritating competitor for fish by fishermen, and so were nearly hunted to extinction. Since, the Great Cormorant has escalated in numbers to the 1.2 million individuals in Europe today. The Great Cormorant is now thriving in the UK, and now the species is predicted to cause incredible changes in our aquatic and terrestrial ecosystems. There are great concerns over the impacts that cormorants may have on ecosystems, with relocation of matter and microbial agents between ecosystems, and the possible food web modifications that may follow the cormorant’s population growth. It is true that in the future we may need to control cormorant populations, however it is still fantastic to see such a prehistoric creature on our doorstep, and I thoroughly enjoyed admiring the bird in the sun all the same.

This isn't much to do with the blog, however I did think the gulls looked 

brilliant sitting in a line along the concrete posts

Wollaton's Wacky Wildlife

So I have been rather quiet over the last few weeks, putting together a video from the last few months of footage I have gathered from Nottingham. I had so much fun making it, and I hope you have as much fun watching it with the few surprises I have edited in (not your normal wildlife video I promise you!)

Thanks a lot, and thank you to Fat Freddy's Drop for the music, and to the wonderful wildlife who helped create it!

A trip to Brighton, with a mesmerising murmuration!

A starling murmuration is always a fascinating sight to see, and I was lucky enough on my trip to Brighton to see one at dusk from the pier. The wind was howling, the skies were grey, and the sea was whipping up an angry and salty mist into the air, and I didn’t want to leave as these birds danced in the sky in perfect unison. I also could not help but wonder how these birds coordinated themselves so well. Luckily, I have since found that a group of scientists has managed to provide us with part of the answer.

A Black and White of the Brighton Beach looking from the new pier

A colour picture of the beach at Brighton

A Starling murmuration is a swarm of Starlings that forms at dawn and dusk, as a mass of thousands of birds swoop through the skies. The best time to view these swarms are between November and March, all across the UK. Although piers such as the one at Brighton are particularly good for viewing Starling murmurations, they can also be seen over wetlands and farmlands, so almost anyone could be lucky enough to see one. It is simply a case of being in the right place at the right time.

A black and white of the murmuration, looking from the new pier towards the old pier in the distance

There are many theories behind the existence of these murmurations, ranging from predator defence, to maintenance of warmth, to the development of information exchange. It is well known that animals will group in large numbers as a form of predator defence, and creating these mesmerising illusions of fluidity could confuse dangerous predators such as peregrine falcons, or short eared owls. Animals are also known to gather to decrease heat loss, and to exchange information between individuals. At the moment information is being gathered on Starlings all over the country, but data is not complete enough to fully understand what is going on.

The Starling murmuration powered by the winds created by the crashing waves in the sea

The murmuration, echoing the movement of the waves

While the reason behind the Starling murmurations is not fully understood, recent research has given a fascinating insight into who coordinates the movement of these flocks. A study amazingly managed to develop a tracking algorithm to reconstruct three-dimensional trajectories of each of the individuals in the flock during a turning event. This allowed the researchers to analyse the indivitdual change in movement of each starling as the turns of the murmuration were occurring. From this, it was found that the birds on the outside initiated the steering of the entire flock. With this kind of technology that can be used to analyse Starling murmuration movement, it may only be a few years until we may understand the evolutionary reasoning behind this beautiful phenomena.

While the murmurations really were breathtaking, I can't take a trip to the beach without acknowledging the Herring Gulls that of course were in a great abundance. While they are seen as quite a nuissance by many, I find them really quite entertaining. Its great to be able to get so close to them, and meant I had a great opportunity to get some bird close-ups. Of course I may have had a very different view on the beggars if I had a sandwich in my hand I am sure! 

A juvenile Herring Gull who was sitting on Brighton Pier

An adult Herring Gull, with its mature plumage

A Herring Gull going for a stroll next to the pier, keeping an eye out for lunch