John Attiwell, Seasonal Survey Officer for the Cairngorms region takes us out on an early morning wading bird (or wader) survey in Speyside.
There is always something exciting about a morning wading bird survey with the RSPB. Rising with the dawn, and starting just an hour after it, walking the frost- or dew-dappled fields, amid the dawn chorus, well off the beaten tracks, watching the waders in the sky, counting displaying Lapwings, bubbling Curlews and drumming Snipe above the wet grassland, a semi-natural habitat, reliant on grazing by cattle or sheep at low densities. Lapwing especially rely on the grass being kept short, these alert birds, nervous, and fiercely protective of their nests in equal measure, need to be able to see over the grass in order to detect predators, and give their noisy, intimidating mobbing displays in the hope of seeing them off. If the grass becomes too tall, they will even abandon eggs they have begun incubating. They are beautiful and conspicuous birds, when at rest their metallic feathered backs catch the sun, reflecting green and purple notes, while their long black crests flutter in the breeze.
Lapwing. Ben Andrew I’ve done this in my previous role in the South of England, and the routine in the green glens of Speyside is more-or-less the same, walking, counting, recording behaviour, especially display, territory holding or sitting on eggs in the short grass. Instead of a backdrop of ships and boats sailing by on the Essex Rivers, the backdrop here is mountainous, the Cairngorms towering above these small fertile glens, these little patches of vivid green and good soils in a rocky landscape at first glance, unsuitable for these lowland farmland waders. But where cows and sheep keep the grass short, and where alluvial soils offer rich pickings of the invertebrates on which waders feed, farming has created an opportunity for the bird. The cooler northern climes have other advantages for waders, they avoid the brutal summer droughts their conspecifics further south face. Climate change makes these Scottish populations of farmland waders ever more important if they are to continue to thrive in these wild isles.
Oystercatcher with chick. Paul Turner In the golden morning light, on a farm somewhere in Speyside, where RSPB Scotland, by agreement with the landowner, provides wader monitoring to help the farmers safeguard the precious wildlife on their land, some colleagues and I begin our walkover survey. We count, field by field, Lapwings, some of which carry out their twisting display flight in flashing black and white, carrot-faced Oystercatchers, which alarm call and fly around, low to the ground in pairs, panicked but sticking close to each other and their precious nesting sites. Brown Hares (Lepus europaeus) are gathered to breed, the female ‘boxing’ away suitors. Though not part of our survey, the copses provide a constant soundtrack in addition to the waders’ calls. We hear drumming woodpeckers, and the sweet descending song of Willow Warblers, newly arrived long range migrants. Curlews bubble up from behind a copse and settle down in the field in front of us. These truly are privileged moments that wildlife surveyors like us enjoy.
Brown Hare. Ben Andrew. Of course, these waders are not confined to private farmland, and all four species can be seen with some reliability at Insh Marshes, the RSPB’s noted wetland Nature Reserve near Newtonmore, especially with a scope up at Gordonhall Hide. Lapwings occasionally flap their big black and white wings over almost any low lying farmland along the A95. And now, early spring, as they pair up and begin the breeding season, is a great time to sit quietly and watch their behaviour.
Header image: Cattle grazing at RSPB Scotland Insh Marshes Nature Reserve, Speyside. Andy Hay