Female goosander Goosander like the fast-flowing River Kent and they're here throughout the year. Their red feet are often visible as they swim and the slight downturn at the tip of the long bill is distinctive. The chestnut head is a feature of the female and of the tiny chicks and juveniles. During late June, the river was high after days of rain and I hoped to see how the young birds would swim the weirs along the course of the River Kent. Filming would give me the chance to study their behaviour.
When feeding, when avoiding the intrusion of photographers, goosander dive in a little leap and come up somewhere else moments later.
Goosander plumage is striking: the male in breeding plumage is colourful sharply defined, the female too is distinctive. All this changes in summer. Juvenile birds resemble females and, in eclipse, males lose their smart appearance. My images show the way colours blur and blend in the manner of cryptic colouring. And the least sunlight dazzling off the water can make the birds harder to follow in their unpredictable course.
As a child, I enjoyed birdwatching. I returned to it in more dedicated manner as an adult, one summer- the most bewildering time of year because the juveniles were abroad and one juvenile can look remarkably like another. Eclipse birds and the moult can confuse the picture even further.
As the goosander swam and drifted toward a weir I was ready with my smartphone camera. They grouped together and kept their heads up, buoyant and high on the tumble of water. No trouble. Preparing to leap the weir upstream they made toward the bank, dived under the water and came up half-way up, or clear of the weir. The tiny goosander I'd seen earlier had been protected from the weir until they were stronger.
Goosander plumage is striking: the male in breeding plumage is colourful sharply defined, the female too is distinctive. All this changes in summer. Juvenile birds resemble females and, in eclipse, males lose their smart appearance. My images show the way colours blur and blend in the manner of cryptic colouring. And the least sunlight dazzling off the water can make the birds harder to follow in their unpredictable course.
As a child, I enjoyed birdwatching. I returned to it in more dedicated manner as an adult, one summer- the most bewildering time of year because the juveniles were abroad and one juvenile can look remarkably like another. Eclipse birds and the moult can confuse the picture even further.
As the goosander swam and drifted toward a weir I was ready with my smartphone camera. They grouped together and kept their heads up, buoyant and high on the tumble of water. No trouble. Preparing to leap the weir upstream they made toward the bank, dived under the water and came up half-way up, or clear of the weir. The tiny goosander I'd seen earlier had been protected from the weir until they were stronger.
Goosander nest in tree holes and they breed somewhere along the River Kent. Observing their behaviour is fascinating and there's always more to discover. The coup would be to find the tree and to be there at the moment those tiny goosander ducklings jump from the tree into the river. That's on the wish list!
Like goosander, merganser are sawbills and both species nest in tree holes, their ducklings leaping from the nest as soon as the entire clutch has emerged from the egg. Their mother leaves the nest and calls to them from the ground, urging them to follow. One by one, the flightless ducklings claw their way up to the light and jump. They're so light they ride the air buoyant and trampoline off branch and leaf litter. Then to the river for life as water-birds. I watch video of merganser, can't find goosander. So my finding that nest- hole and being there the moment the ducklings jump is remote. Look at those goosander ducklings I photographed early in June. That was their adventure, days before I found them.
Back to the Farne Islands to see guillemot chicks take the plunge. The odds are a little higher on that one.
Like goosander, merganser are sawbills and both species nest in tree holes, their ducklings leaping from the nest as soon as the entire clutch has emerged from the egg. Their mother leaves the nest and calls to them from the ground, urging them to follow. One by one, the flightless ducklings claw their way up to the light and jump. They're so light they ride the air buoyant and trampoline off branch and leaf litter. Then to the river for life as water-birds. I watch video of merganser, can't find goosander. So my finding that nest- hole and being there the moment the ducklings jump is remote. Look at those goosander ducklings I photographed early in June. That was their adventure, days before I found them.
Back to the Farne Islands to see guillemot chicks take the plunge. The odds are a little higher on that one.
RSS Feed