I visited the reserve yesterday evening, Saturday 5th June, on what started out as a warm and humid evening, but ended a bit differently! In the southern wood there were a couple of male banded demoiselles fluttering over nettles and rosebay willowherb. Out in the open, on the public footpath running along the eastern boundary of the reserve, there were several common blue damseflies, a couple of small heath butterflies and a cinnabar moth. The scrub around the silt lagoons held singing willow warblers, reed buntings and a Cetti's warbler burst into song. In the mature hedge there was a vocal group of six goldfinches, a smart male bullfinch and singing common whitethroats and a lesser whitethroat. On the largest silt lagoon a green sandpiper was feeding along a muddy edge at the back with a couple of redshanks and a lapwing. It was pleasing to see that shelducks have bred successfully on the reserve - a female was swimming with five ducklings in tow.
On reaching the reedbed I met Jenny, the assistant warden, who had been setting moth traps so her volunteers today could see the catches on Sunday. I hope there were some interesting species and that the volunteer day went well. I then settled down to watch the reedbed. Reedbeds are magical habitats at dusk - the changing light over the reeds and singing birds. There was a contast chorus of reed warblers chugging away with tuneless enthusiasm - 10/10 for effort but 4/10 for musical ability. A more accomplished songster is the sedge warbler, which oftens includes mimicry of other birds in its song; one singing in a sallow near me was including the flight call of yellow wagtail and occasionally its take on a chiffchaff song. Out on the water there was a family group of two adult mute swans and two cygnets, a few mallards and gadwall, and a pair of shoveler. Two cuckoos had been calling repeatly and one flew in to perch in a small bush nearby and afforded excellent views. As dusk approached a water rail started to call and flew across a channel; it then started its strange song, known as sharming. A barn owl flew along the river bank and two little egrets flew over, their brilliant white plumage gleaming in the fading light.
I was hoping to see a hobby and finally at 9.25 pm a bird dashed in to hunt over the reedbed. Often it was easier to see its reflection in the water than pick it out against the dark background of the banks, but its distinctive silhouette would occasionally appear against the purple sky. I have seen hobbies hunting a dusk before and seen one catch moths. My plan had also been to stay until dark to listen for bats on my bat detector. However, a thunder storm came rolling in from the east and as spectacular flashes of lighting appeared over Collingham I decided it was not a good idea to be out with a tripod to act as a lightning conductor! Walking back a grasshopper warbler was reeling from the hedge and in the wood I heard a common pipistrelle bat on the detector. Luckily I made it back to my car before the rain started.
Carl