View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE DUCK

TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE DUCK

There are few things in the birdwatching world that are as annoying as a gull that isn't in perfect identification condition. Few things, but not none. Birds that fly into a sparse tree and then immediately don a Cloak of Invisibility, that's one. Birdwatchers who spread their equipment all over a hide, thus depriving other birders a chance for a seat and a good view, that's another annoying peeve. But the thing that's really getting on my nerves at the moment is the tendency for ducks to go into 'eclipse'.

One of my many dictionaries defines 'eclipse' (when used in an ornithological manner) as “a phase during which the distinctive markings of a bird (especially a male duck) are obscured by moulting of the breeding plumage”. My trusty favourite, the well-thumbed Collins dictionary, puts it another way; “seasonal plumage that occurs in certain birds after the breeding plumage and before the winter plumage: characterised by dull colouration”.

Me? I define eclipse as “an annoyingly muted paint job that certain ducks wear to make it really hard to guess at what they are”.

You'll gather from the above that this this is prime eclipse season, when all your favourite quacking, dabbling and whistling species are almost unrecognisable. Most annoying of all, we've had some lovely and unusual of these eclipsed drakes (for it's predominantly the males who are the most changed by this process) on the Old Moor reserve over the last couple of weeks.

To clarify, male ducks make great efforts to appear attractive at the start of the breeding season. They effectively get dressed up to go “out on the pull”. Hopefully they're successful and the ponds, lakes and holes in trees are soon filled with the peep-peep sound of fluffy little balls of ducky cuteness. But after that, there's no need for the flashy colourful “ladies, look at me” feathers. To put it in human terms again, they no longer need to make the effort. They feel that they can afford to let standards slip in the looks department and dump their best threads. They shed their flight feathers, all the flashy and sturdy outer ones and, over about a month, slowly replace them with bright, strong new ones. Of course this moulting process leaves them unable to fly properly so losing the gaudy colours also acts as camouflage. If they cannot fly away from predators then it's better to hide from them.

Another definition of 'eclipse' is “dimming, or passing into shadow”. That's pretty much what drakes do; they turn down the dimmer switch on their fashion show. They turn out the lights. Show's over folks, nothing to see here. Hopefully that's exactly what Mr Fox will say, should he come calling and fail to spot the dull hideaways where he expected to see a brightly coloured duck.

But what's good for the duck is not so good for the duck-watcher. To make a comparison to the more well-known lunar eclipse, at this time of year ducks become literal shadows of their former selves. Teal lose their Ziggy Stardust eye markings, Mr Mallard looks a lot like Mrs Mallard and the more exotic visitors don't look very exotic at all.

For example the PINTAILS that have been on the main mere don't have their long tail feathers any more and the striking white markings down their necks have all but disappeared. Instead of the pin tail, their most distinctive feature is now their pointy bum. I don't think that birders would rush out to see a 'Northern Pointybum' though. The best way to identify one at the moment is their unusual feeding behaviour. They stick their heads down and their bottoms up, and then spin on the spot, presumably trying to dislodge any tasty morsels from the lake bed.

Our visiting GARGANEY haven't been particularly good textbook examples of the breed either. They too have lost their trademark white stripes, leaving them looking like just another dull brown duck. Perfect for camouflage, rubbish for year listers. You may still see the silvery patch on their sides though.

But do you know what? Even though this eclipse seasonal change is annoying for us humans that want to give every species a name and tick it off on our little books and spreadsheets (or is that just me?), they still look gorgeous.

Learn to love eclipsed birds. They're still fun and fascinating to watch and they bring a little bit of natural delight into the most mundane of days. If nothing else, think of how glorious they're going to be when their world turns back to technicolour.