Homeward Boud

It's time to pack my bag and head home. I turned my wellie boots in and said my goodbyes yesterday. I knew my mind was turning towards home last week when I noted "I Want To Go Back To My Little Grass  Shack" playing on my mental jukebox.

I leave a landscape that has had the driest spring in recent memory and return to my beloved valley which has received over six inches of rain in the last two weeks.

Spring in England has ripened towards summer and the trees that were only hinting at green are now fluttering with leaves.

The nene goslings that fit so easily in my hand six weeks ago

are now going through that awkward--I would almost say ugly--adolescent transition from being covered in fluffy down to their adult plumage.

The pens that everyone worked to hard to re-turf , so the ducklings and goslings could have a fresh new start have gone from bare, scraped earth

to plush new grass with their first inhabitants

It has been a wonderful satisfying experience. Thanks for sharing it with me vicariously.

Aloha oe,

Kathy

One last bike ride

I took a bike ride south four miles along along the Gloucester--Sharpness canal to Sharpness, where the canal meets the Severn River. It was a sunny, windy Sunday and sections of the canal were a sea of flower petals. Mallard hens were out with their ducklings.

There were people out picnicking, fishing, walking and kayaking along the canal. In the village of Purton I stopped to look around and saw this beautiful church, Saint John the Evangelist.

On a bend in the river there are the hulls of several old ships that were purposefully wrecked along the river bank to help prevent erosion of the riverbank.

I passed the abutments for an old railroad bridge made out of stone blocks. They looked like ancient turrets emerging from the trees.

The canal ends of the Port of Sharpness. The difference between the canal and river level at low tide is astonishing. One of the reasons the Severn estuary supports such huge numbers of wintering birds is that it has the second greatest tidal range in the world, second to the Bay of  Fundy. At low tide this exposes extensive areas of tidal flats for birds to feed on.



note the level of the canal even with the top of the fence line

To the south is the bridge that spans the estuary separating England from Wales.

From the Port of Sharpness I looped around and headed back.

Whistling ducks hatching

One of the things I learned in ornithology that astounded me is that ducklings talk to each other when they are still in the egg. They start breathing a day or two before they hatch, when they break through the membrane into the airspace at the blunt end of the egg (next time you eat a hard-boiled egg you can see the airspace and membrane as you peel the egg). Then they can can vocalize.

Our ornithology textbook described how slower developing chicks can communicate with the more developed ones so they can synchronize their hatching out. I find that so amazing! Phoebe took a video of Cuban whistling ducks in the process of hatching and you can hear them peeping to each other. She posted it to her blog on the WWT website:
http://www.wwt.org.uk/visit-us/slimbridge/phoebes-duck-diary/chatty-cubans-during-hatch

Before I ever met a whistling duck I fell in love with them for their alert, erect posture, bright disposition , whistling call, gregarious nature and their endearing habit of preening each other. There are several types of whistling ducks here at Slimbridge. Their enthusiastic-sounding calls always make be smile. We have only one lone whistling duck that I know of on Kauai. I like to visit him/her when I have time driving to Lihue and think what a sad lot it is to be the only one of your species around.

I hope you enjoy Phoebe's video!

This 'n that

Not much remarkable to report.  I did get a chance to peek at two freshly hatched ducklings yesterday...

and met my first Laysan ducklings, which were brought in yesterday.

The nene goslings continue to grow and are getting gangly. I love the legs-out posture of the closest one in this pile of goslings!

nests...

As spring progresses more birds are laying and nesting. Here are some nests I have seen in the last few days. Most people think of nests as being fluffy and warm. Flamingos like them muddy and flat. Sparky led the team to help build up the muddy mesas like upside-down cupcakes for the Chilean flamingos.

Even the mate of cereopsis (Cape Barren goose) that bit me earlier in the week made a cozy nest decorated with down.

Below is an American black duck reluctantly showing Sparky her precious eggs.

This supreme nest is a swan's, of course. She built it on the bank of the canal that runs behind the Field fence; a nice quiet place to incubate her young. I see her in the distance every day when I wheel the feed cart through the gate into the Field. The other day I couldn't resist walking up quietly to take her portrait.

Sights and sounds

I have been paying attention to all the sights and  sounds that I will leave behind in two weeks: the squeak and clank of the gate into the Duckery; the nasal honk of the magpie goose and trumpeter swans in the Field; the Brent's ganders who have a honk-fest whenever someone approaches the breeding pen they share with two black-duck couples and a pair of hooded mergansers.

The Brent's ganders have gotten more aggressive in the last week now that their ladies are beginning to sit.Two or three come at me, bills open and their slender, pink tongues vibrating. When I get to the farthest food dish (nearest one nest)  they are so upset that they jab at my Wellies and nip at where my trousers tuck into my boots. Poor guys, as short as they are that's as high as they can reach, and despite their sincere efforts to protected their nests my greatest danger is not from their attacks, but from tripping when trying to avoid stepping on them!

What a contrast to the silent ashy-headed gander who looks up at me with concern and wonder when I go into the breeding pool that he shares with several other species. His lady has been sitting in a clump of sedge a few feet away for a few weeks now. I wonder what he makes of me towering over him.

The Abyssinian blue-winged geese chatter and posture as I pass or enter their pen, full of threats, heads lifted and chests puffed out. The Magellan gander does the same, protecting his mate who is laying. I hear his calls from the Left-hand Poly Tunnel when I come through the gate into the Field. He is such a proud papa with is chest puffed out and head thrown back as he proclaims his sovereignty.

I have seen the adolescent male Japanese crane dancing and playing with a short piece of straw. What elegant long legs and movements! Later I caught this reflect of his female consort drinking from the canal that runs through their pen.

So many sights and sounds that I may never see or hear again.  I am grateful to have this amazing opportunity to be here!

Nene goslings

I just can't stop taking pictures of these little guys. They are so cute and inquisitive!

A walk on the Cotswold Way

Dursley

I spent Easter morning taking a walk on the hills behind Dursley, a market town about 12 minutes drive away. It was a hazy day and a little cooler than it has been. The Cotswold Way is a National Trail, one of the long-distance trails in England. It is 102 miles long and ends south of Slimbridge in Bath. The highest elevation along the trail is 317 meters.

Imagine walking through the scene above listening to the church bells pealing from the town below.

Much of the route follows a golf course, sometimes along the edge, sometimes in the woods. There were dozens of boys from tweens on up in age playing golf, all neatly dressed in slacks and golf shirts or sweaters instead of swim trunks with surfboards under their arms!

This sign made me smile...

Even though the views were hazy there were ferns and flowers along the way to brighten my walk...

Ending with this wall of wisteria across the street from the car park.



The cape teal roundup

Today we moved some cape teal form the Field back into their area on the Grounds where there has been some work being done. The cape teal have been among my favorites for the last week; the gang of them always greeting me with a chorus of enthusiastic "tee hee!" when I climber over the fence into their pen.

Herding birds reminds me of herding sheep on a miniature scale. First we herded them into a corner, then Duane and Sparky caught them and handed them to us and Wayne put them in a crate.

Then they are loaded in a cart and driven to their enclosure.

Now they have lots of room. Can you see those little grey dots at the far end of the pond?

FYI...

koloa at Slimbridge

Some of you may be curious to see what the koloa look like at Slimbridge. At first, not knowing the other monochromatic ducks, it was hard to tell who was who. As I've tuned into the differences between species, and the more times I saw and heard these, I became more sure these were koloa. Sparky says, yes, they are the ones that hatched last year.