Shorebird Season 2018
an account by Ceris Aston
It is the end of shorebird season. The signs and
fences have been removed, the netting rolled up, our small warden’s hut taken
away – and we look out upon just another stretch of beach, indistinguishable
from that 100 metres to the north or to the south. For the past three months,
this small area of dune, sand and sea has been the centre of our hopes, thoughts
and fears – or one of the centres, for this season we protected five nesting
sites for little terns and ringed plovers. Both species have seen declines in
their breeding population in the UK, with a major factor being human and dog
disturbance. Happily, efforts of reserve staff and volunteers, and the
co-operation of walkers, have enabled these charismatic birds a small window of
space and time to court, lay eggs, and rear chicks and fledglings.
©K.Simmons
We fenced off areas of the shore across the
reserve, chatting to locals and holidaymakers about the birds and the reasons
for access restrictions. Look – we pointed – those are little terns! The UK’s
second rarest nesting seabird. People squinted hopefully into the sky.
Occasionally a little tern would oblige, fly near enough to point out the sand
eel hanging from its bill. More often, they were visible only as a white dot on
the sand or in the sky. We proffered binoculars.
Some were fascinated;
delighted to watch as a little tern fished in one of the tidal lagoons. Others
were harder to convince of the need to close off areas of beach. Yet we feel we
must do what we can to protect these tenacious creatures, who travel so far to
breed - from West Africa to Northumberland - and whose decline is attributable
to changing human behaviour. There are so many more of us, for one thing - and
fewer and fewer remote spots for these birds to safely breed. Some things we
can’t change - the weather, for one; Storm Hector hit the little terns hard
with both sand-blow and flooding. The tides - with tide tables and surge charts
anxiously scanned. Aerial predation of chicks by gulls, kestrel and crows,
whose presence we noted but could not alter. But we can speak to people - show
them the nesting sites - try to share what it is we find so special about these
birds.
It’s hard to describe what it has been like here. This patch of sand and
sea rocket, fenced off by yellow netting, bordered by the sea. Those small
grey-white terns – a black cap raised briefly from a scrape. Those
sand-coloured chicks against sand, so still and then suddenly frantically
flapping for food. The ringed plovers, such loyal, concerned parents, and their
chicks like fast-moving pom-poms on stilts. The sites have seen some high
drama. Fish-waggling courtship, love triangles, high-speed aerial battles,
tempests, flooding, mortal peril. Shakespeare couldn’t write it better.
Our
little terns will soon farewell the Northumberland coast, making their way back
towards West Africa for the winter. With the adults will fly an additional 17 juveniles,
making the journey for the first time. The ringed plovers may move south or
choose to overwinter here – but they too have grown in number; with new fluffy
pom-poms becoming doughty fledglings. This is what we have been working
towards.
It’s a strange feeling; the end of shorebird season. Our gaze, so
tuned in to these small areas of beach, expands – the reserve has 3,500
hectares, covers 65km of coastline. Soon the geese and waders will come to
overwinter here – 50,000 migratory wildfowl will fill the reserve. We stack the
fence poles in the reserve yard, untangle the netting and roll it up neatly.
Some will be used this autumn, as we graze the dunes with sheep leased from a
local farmer. We empty sand from our pockets and our shoes; look forward to the
next chapter of life on the reserve.
To find out more go to:
Fabulous write up of a season I sadly had to miss. There will be other years, and thanks to your efforts there will be more little terns. ��
ReplyDelete