Great Crested Grebe Fleeting sunlight on distant fells with caps of cloud and snow in gullies. The wind ruffles the surface of the tarn. A great crested grebe swims out into open water, and dives. He swims toward the shore, toward the reeds where his mate broods eggs on her nest. She sits snug, a flash of her white breast, a turn of her head. He swims to and fro, guarding her. Sunlight gleams the waves and colours the birds for an instant, then clouds shadow the tarn. What is nature writing? I ponder the question as I prepare to give a fresh talk about my new book, Cumbrian Contrasts.
To find a great crested grebe brooding her eggs was a surprise. I had hoped to find yellowhammer, it’s a stronghold of theirs- where rocky knolls descend into hawthorn scrub . But the morning was chilly, with persistent rain and drizzle- not a morning for yellowhammer to sing from an eminence. The light was low and the winter bracken glowed deep. Seed-heads of bog asphodel grew thick about the becks and in boggy hollows. Few signs of spring up her on the fell.
We sat overlooking the tarn and through binoculars I watched mallard until I found a great crested grebe swimming out into the tarn and seemingly alone. I told my friend about their magical courtship dance when the pair bond by rising up out of the water and presenting each other with weed. I followed the bird as he swam toward the shore which was fringed with reeds and boggy ground where a beck trickled into the tarn and a digger was clearing out stones from its bed. The man had stopped for his lunch. Wish I’d brought my more powerful camera. I took photographs all the while, because perspectives would change and the reeds would mask the bird on her nest, we went down closer. I spoke to the man with the digger and he assured us his work was not disturbing the birds, so I crept closer. Toward alder growing in the reed bed. There may be distant sunlight on the fells but the light was poor and I doubted how much colour would show in my photographs. As I always do, I switched between studying the birds through binoculars and taking photographs.
I liked the pattern made by this screen of reeds, and the sense of privacy it gave to the nesting pair. The thrill, always, is to find something special for oneself.
So, Nature Writing. It’s about the immediacy and the inspiration of the moment. It catches the season and the mood of the day. For these great crested grebe- it’s a glimpse of secret lives and the coming of spring. Recreating the immediacy and catching the inspiration is the challenge. Sometimes, you have to let it all mature and come back to it .
We sat overlooking the tarn and through binoculars I watched mallard until I found a great crested grebe swimming out into the tarn and seemingly alone. I told my friend about their magical courtship dance when the pair bond by rising up out of the water and presenting each other with weed. I followed the bird as he swam toward the shore which was fringed with reeds and boggy ground where a beck trickled into the tarn and a digger was clearing out stones from its bed. The man had stopped for his lunch. Wish I’d brought my more powerful camera. I took photographs all the while, because perspectives would change and the reeds would mask the bird on her nest, we went down closer. I spoke to the man with the digger and he assured us his work was not disturbing the birds, so I crept closer. Toward alder growing in the reed bed. There may be distant sunlight on the fells but the light was poor and I doubted how much colour would show in my photographs. As I always do, I switched between studying the birds through binoculars and taking photographs.
I liked the pattern made by this screen of reeds, and the sense of privacy it gave to the nesting pair. The thrill, always, is to find something special for oneself.
So, Nature Writing. It’s about the immediacy and the inspiration of the moment. It catches the season and the mood of the day. For these great crested grebe- it’s a glimpse of secret lives and the coming of spring. Recreating the immediacy and catching the inspiration is the challenge. Sometimes, you have to let it all mature and come back to it .
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