Flock of Black-tailed godwit Twice-spooked, the flock of Black-tailed godwit rose into the air and came down closer and closer to the sea-hide. But now cloud had masked the sun and colour drained away.
The wood to the north is a dark reflection in the water with birds flood-lit and the sun highlighting the brick-red head and chest of those in breeding plumage. A shimmer of upside-down reflections surrounds the birds.
The flock huddles together, warm colour and plump shapes against a foil of rippling bands of water. A chiaroscuro effect, where dazzle meets darkness. Images seem more like watercolours than photographs. They are water-colours, a fusion of water and light, of shapes dissolving in a shimmer of sunlight where feeding birds stir the water with bill and feet creating bubbles. Where they probe with their long bills tiny pools of intense blue appear, as if each bird has released blue pigment from the mud and stirred the pattern of the flow. Godwit roost with their heads tucked beneath their wings but each with a watchful eye wary of predators.
Fresh and salt-water mingle in the pool. To the west, a network of channels threads through grassy salt-marsh and out into Morecambe Bay. The hydrology of the wetlands is intricate and carefully monitored to meet the needs of birds, especially in the breeding season. We see a pair of distant avocet and last year we glimpsed their eggs on a shoal out in the water. A sudden rise in water-levels could flood them out.
Fresh and salt-water mingle in the pool. To the west, a network of channels threads through grassy salt-marsh and out into Morecambe Bay. The hydrology of the wetlands is intricate and carefully monitored to meet the needs of birds, especially in the breeding season. We see a pair of distant avocet and last year we glimpsed their eggs on a shoal out in the water. A sudden rise in water-levels could flood them out.
I didn't see what spooked the flock when the birds took flight in alarm. It's thrilling to see the swirling flock and to hear the whoosh of rapid wing-beats. Subdued light gives a sombre look to the images and the flock-entire casts a reflection over the water and upon a scatter of birds left behind. When the panic is over they alight in a looser formation and their reflections show differently.
All morning sunlight and cloud-shadow reflected in the water, creating bands of darkness and light. Sometimes the flock of godwit showed sharper in reflection as the birds huddled in an indistinct mass. The angle of the sun and the proximity of the flock to the sea-hide changed the reflections of the birds. I like the contrasts between seeming stillness and frantic flight, and between light and darkness. Zooming-in on the flock, I seek to discover pattern within the huddle.
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