RSPB Scotland Senior Conservation Officer David Hunt shares stories of his local nature.
Nature on the doorstep
Two minutes from our front door there’s a burn. OK, nothing too out of the ordinary there. It’s not the bonniest burn in Scotland by any means but I actually think the garden chair that is stranded in the middle of the channel adds to the character.
The burn weaves its way through a little urban corner of Falkirk before joining the River Carron and going on its way towards the Forth. It’s a spot for me and the family, that like for so many of us, has become a smalll ‘green’ focal point, just a short wander from the house on. Our two small children like nothing better than spending twenty minutes or so from the bridge playing poohsticks. Just very occasionally I’m allowed to win. I can glance across towards the burn from our makeshift home office window (i.e. the bedroom) to the trees that line it and remind myself to go for a walk at lunchtime to get away from computer screen.
And my walks there recently have really shone a light on just how important even the smallest of greenspaces in urban areas can be for wildlife. This winter’s prolonged cold snap has meant that unfrozen water has been in short supply at times and has transformed the burn into a hive of activity for waterbirds seeking a safe place to feed. A few weeks back on a properly cold Saturday morning I’d taken the kids for a stomp along the burn, complete with the last of the Christmas chocolate coins in my pocket. A whirring of wings led me to a snipe zipping away from us from the tiny muddy edge of the burn. A completely unexpected visitor but one that got me thinking about what else might be lurking.
A couple of days later after a morning of meetings, I carefully navigated the icy pavement obstacle course and headed to the burn for a quick look. Immediately my eyes jumped at the most incredible, iridescent blue streak in front of me. A kingfisher! The most amazing colour in sharp contrast to the dull grey of the winter sky. The rapid flight of the bird upstream had caused a dainty teal to jump up and flit underneath the poohstick bridge. Suddenly the burn was awash with colour. A few hundred metre upstream, the burn disappears into a gloomy looking culvert under the road but my burn bird list was growing as the unmistakable lemon-yellow of a bobbing grey wagtail came into view at the mouth of the culvert, completely undeterred by my presence. To me, these are the classic urban waterbird and definitely more colourful than the name suggests! I was just thinking about heading for home when a bird literally exploded out from the burn in front of me. I caught enough of the distinctive bill and snazzy golden plumage to know that this latest highlight was a jack snipe, a scarce winter visitor to the UK and one that is incredibly difficult to spot due to its fantastically cryptic plumage. This is a bird that was likely born on a bog somewhere in Scandinavia and now has chosen to spend part of the winter at least on a little burn in Falkirk. Nature never ceases to stop being amazing. I returned home having seen a list of birds that wouldn’t be out of place at some of the best nature reserves in the country, including our own!
The burn is the focal point of a narrow green corridor sandwiched between houses, gardens and roads. It’s always a busy place with dog walkers and people out for a stroll and I love the character of these little green places. They might not look like much but their benefits far outweigh aesthetics. These urban oases are invaluable to our own health and wellbeing and present opportunities for everyone to connect with nature, regardless of bird knowledge. The last twelve months have been a real challenge for many and right now, the need for safe, local greenspaces for our own wellbeing seem stronger than ever.
I started to think what other unlikely surprises the burn might have in store given the hot streak I was seemingly on and as I came around the corner last week I suddenly thought of dipper, a fascinating bird of mostly fast-flowing upland watercourses. Dippers feed by remarkably ‘walking’ underwater to search for their invertebrate prey. But surely not here. I reached the burn however and looked upstream towards where the kingfisher had been. A dipper! And not just one, but two perched on stones near the protruding chair! You couldn’t make it up. I think the burn and I are going to get along just fine. I wonder what bird I should wish for next…?