Gender Recognition Bill

Under half an hour away from the holiday cottage was the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust's Welney reserve. A brief look at the sightings from previous days revealed that there were several species that would make the trip worthwhile for us, even without the thought of Sunday lunch in the cafe. At this time of year, the Winter flooding of the reserve has not yet subsided, so a few of the paths were inaccessible, but not to worry, we met lots of friendly birders who were only too glad to help with identifying strange-plumaged birds and pointing out fly-over rarities. I should point out, the birds weren't actually strange-plumaged, they were just species we're used to seeing in Orkney in Winter plumage, and here they were changing into their Summer finery.

Great White Egret, we managed this ID on our own

Avocets, I knew this one from my recent Sanday sighting!

During the afore-mentioned lunch, with breaks between courses to twitch Tree Sparrow on the neighbouring feeders, we were joined by a Two-spotted Ladybird.

After lunch, we marvelled at all the Black-tailed Godwits and Ruffs foraging along the many shorelines. Sadly, my photos failed to do this justice, sorry.

From one particular hide, we were watching a Whooper Swan which constantly followed a male (I think) Mute Swan, and it seemed to us that the Mute Swan wasn't entirely comfortable with the situation. In fact, I would go as far as to say that the Whooper was romantically attracted to the Mute, but the Mute, quite naturally, just wasn't interested. I had no idea of the sex of the Whooper but for the Mutes, sex can usually be determined by the size of the black knob above the bill, larger in males.

Whooper Swan

Love-lorn Whooper Swan

But then the species bending (and possibly gender bending) ratcheted up a notch when another, I think, male Mute Swan appeared. Now, male Mute Swans are rather feisty to each other, especially during the breeding season, so we sat back to watch the inevitable swan handbags as they settled this dispute.

However, the Whooper had other ideas, and constantly positioned itself between the two Mutes, driving off the interloper in a spectacular display of feistiness of its own.

It might be an allegory for our times, but I don't think I can venture there at the moment.

It was now late afternoon, but before we returned to the cottage, we visited the publicly-accessible part of Wicken Fen nature reserve. Alongside one path, in a small pool, Megan spotted a Water Vole, her first ever, which was a really lovely moment. Not to be outdone, I crested a rise up onto the bank of a lode, and swept my bins over the fen on the opposite bank. There, in the distance, beyond a Pheasant and a Brown Hare, was a Common Crane.

The following day saw us travelling west to visit Paxton Pits Nature Reserve in the hope of hearing Nightingales. Sadly, it wasn't to be, but we did score some newly-arrived Lesser Whitethroats as we wandered between lakes and alongside the River Great Ouse.

The days of our journey south had been marked by watching the Blackthorn blossoming en route, as each county nearer the Equator was whiter and more profuse. Here, at Paxton Pits, it reached its zenith, and nearby Hawthorn bushes were in full leaf and just beginning to produce flower buds which would become May blossom.

On the river bank, one particular Willow tree caught my attention.

There was... something... some undefinable thing... about the spot where the trunk divided into several limbs...

Binoculars provided the answer...

A female Mallard on her nest

Our travels had taken us to a point not too far from the home of my younger daughter, so the afternoon was spent in grandadding mode as we caught up with bigger Little Louis. Jings, he'd grown so much since January. Plans were made for a generational adventure later in the week to a family-friendly venue nearby.