Black-winged stilt
Black-winged stilts have the longest legs relative to body size of any bird. Sadly, they are very insecure about them and will often stay in deep water to hide their legs from view. Fortunately, I caught a small group off-guard in a shallow pond and got some uncensored photos of their silly stilts. They were very embarrassed when they saw me watching and flew away, legs in tow.
(Above) The sun had climbed beyond the horizon and golden light pooled where shadows didn’t cast. Atop the slumped silence only warblers dare whisper as they foraged delicately and far-hidden amongst profuse reeds. All else held its breath; first light might be beautiful, but it is also breakfast time. It seemed that nothing dare disrupt morning's peace.
But, peace in nature is a short lived phenomenon.
A shadow crept upon the reeds, fingered wings tiptoeing without sound. From the silence the sporadic eruptions of wingbeats and alarm calls began to punctuate the dawn before a chaining reaction of panic switched across the seemingly desolate marsh. Wildfowl erupted in their hundreds, birds fled in every direction and the reeds danced, swayed and then set still once again. Silence returned hurriedly, only this time several feathers could be seen rocking and spiralling down to earth; the harrier had interrupted the morning preen.
Despite her apt timing, the marsh harrier was unsuccessful. Her fishhook talons were unable to find their mark. This bird was hunting on the Isles of Scilly, miles at sea and away from home. It’s lethargic predatory attempt was followed by several heavy beats of its battered wings, and it forlornly floated away. I remember thinking, as she petered away into an ever smaller dot on the sea's horizon, that I wouldn't want to fly back to Cornwall without breakfast. So, I went and got breakfast, just in case.
Despite her apt timing, the marsh harrier was unsuccessful. Her fishhook talons were unable to find their mark. This bird was hunting on the Isles of Scilly, miles at sea and away from home. It’s lethargic predatory attempt was followed by several heavy beats of its battered wings, and it forlornly floated away. I remember thinking, as she petered away into an ever smaller dot on the sea's horizon, that I wouldn't want to fly back to Cornwall without breakfast. So, I went and got breakfast, just in case.
Reed bunting
(Below) When in Europe above 1000-metres, one of the first things I recommend anyone do is set raisins out on windowsills, pavements, hiking trails - anywhere and everywhere. It shouldn't be long before tuneful, fluting chirps fill the air, these will be swiftly followed by flurries of black wings and candy red legs which may seem to spontaneously generate from surrounding areas. Then a flurried competition will ensue as they contend for the sugary treats.
They're characterful and curious, always a pleasure to observe.
(Above) I'm not used to jays letting me get close to them; being corvids they're smart enough to keep a reasonable distance from strangers.
So it felt rather special that this one didn't pay much mind to me while it pecked for insects in a rather weepy willow tree. I couldn't quite see it find anything so I imagine something small was on the menu, it was engrossed nonetheless!
