View From The Shed by Shaun Finnie - VIENETTA ON STILTS

VIENETTA ON STILTS

If you've read any of these blogs before then you'll know that I love the unusual names, both ancient and modern, that people give to birds. I find it wonderful that there are so many different ways to name any particular bird and that someone, somewhere in the country will know precisely to what you are referring. And all these names are just as valid as each other so long as the other party understands the reference. After all who (apart from possibly Countdown's Susie Dent) is to say that Little Grebe is in any way a 'better' name than the more colloquial Dabchick? If it was good enough for my dear old Grandad...

My wife is great at describing birds in ways that have helped us both to remember what they are. For instance, if one of us mentions a Golf Ball on a Stick, then we instantly recognise the target bird as a Long Tailed Tit. If she says that she's seen a Ziggy Stardust Duck then I'll know she's spotted a Teal with it's Bowie-esque markings around the eye. Similarly, a Klingon Duck is a Wigeon due to the yellow Cornish pasty marking on its forehead. You get the picture. I certainly do.

But my favourite way of her describing any bird was when she saw an elegant black and white wader for the first time. Because of her description we now almost always refer to these birds as 'Vienetta on stilts' because that's what they reminded her of. They're mostly white but have black streaks running along their sides looking like they have layers of chocolate running through them. And they stand really high in the water which makes sense as they're part of the Stilt family.

You can make a mode of our image for yourself at home with a yummy ice cream desert and some straws. Just stuff a pair into one end and sit back to admire your work before it melts. Or you could just take my word for it and eat the Vienetta, your choice.

Known in various parts of the country as Yelper, Crooked-Bill, Scooper, Barker, Clinker, Cobbler's Awl or Butterflip, it's current name basically means “the Italian Bird”, from the Latin for bird, Avis. Many of those old names come from the strange inverse curve shape of their bill or from the sound they make. I adore those old descriptive names, but these days most people call just them Avocets (I suspect you'd already guessed that) and its mostly thanks to the efforts of the RSPB that you can see them around these parts today.

By about 1830 they had totally disappeared from Britain. Habitat loss was a major contributor but the then-fashionable boyhood habit of egg collecting played its part in their plummeting population too. Whatever the reason, they were gone.

A century later the newly-formed RSPB made a conscious decision to try to return them to our shores and, by a twin-pronged plan of education and persuading some landowners to set aside habitat for them to nest on, they eventually came back. Land in Suffolk that had been flooded by the military during the Second World War as a deterrent to possible German invasion was the perfect site and when seven brave pairs of birds decided to set up home there in 1947 the RSPB placed a full-time watch over their secretive nesting site. If we could see off Hitler then we could certainly foil a few naughty egg thieves! Approximately sixteen chicks fledged that Summer and they became national news. This was at a time when post-war Britain badly needed cheering, and the story of the returning birds mirrored that of long-missed loved ones coming home from the trenches. These peaceful white birds somehow became a figure of hope where for years there had been little or none.

Their numbers increased slowly at first but by 1970 the Avocet's return was deemed so successful that they became the poster-bird for the RSPB, a symbol of what the Society could do if given the correct backing and support. So here we are, fifty-odd years later, with the bird's image still holding pride of place on the Society's latest official logo. Much more importantly there are around two thousand breeding pairs up and down the country (mostly along the east coast), and upwards of ten times that figure choosing to spend their winters here. That's still nowhere near the high population figures of centuries past but it's stepping in the right direction. What was a rarity in my boyhood is now a bird that we expect to see return regularly every year.

They're usually seen wading in (to them) knee-deep water, using that incredible upturned beak to either pick tiny treats from the water's surface or using it to sift through the silt below for small worms and crustaceans. They can even upend while swimming in deeper water to dabble, in a way similar to that of many duck species.

Why the interest in Avocets this week? Well, there's currently a large flock of these gorgeous monochrome waders at Old Moor's sister site, Adwick Washlands (use postcode DN5 7FR for your SatNav). At the time of writing (the first week of April) there are over fifty Avocet at that reserve and they look like they're settled for a while. They're beautiful birds to watch and it's great to reflect on their history and how it's permanently linked to our organisation. Please make an effort to see some over the Spring. You'll be glad you did.