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Psilos Bird Photography |
Grebe Conflict "Hide and seek" |
Ice locked and with a cold north wind blowing
the birds had no choice but to sit it out. Forced into small pools at
the lakes edge sitting under low overhanging trees they sheltered from
the worst of the buffeting winds blowing off the moors. Snow was in
the air and would come soon but for the moment it was the silence before
the storm. Mallards sat huddled close under trees trying to keep warm
whilst coots and moorhens expend valuable energy fighting aggressively
over their rights to feed in these tiny pools. |
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Both beauty and danger lurks in these waters
and through the branches I glimpse flashes of burnt orange and brown.
An elegant bird with a very sharp beak and a deadly eye. A wary bird,
he knows I am there but will not venture out into open water. Always
hidden and then, its gone, under the water to fish and up the other
side even further out of reach. I am deeply frustrated. Laid on the
floor the cold is seeping through my body and sapping my energy. I am
about to give up and leave when my senses come alive. From the depths
of the icy water a bird has surfaced. Small and pale, its head drawn
out pointing like an arrow over the surface of the water it lies there
motionless. It is so close to me that I am holding my breath. The posture
is so strange that for the briefest of seconds I cannot work out what
it is. Then my brain takes over and I stare head on into the intense
red eye of a first year juvenile Great crested grebe. |
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Although I see a grebe before me I am puzzled
by his behaviour. All grebes are wary and I expect him to dive and swim
away but he doesn’t. I am not hidden, he knows that I am there.
I can see him watching me but there he sits drifting in towards trees
alert and on the look out for danger. It is not me that he fears I realise
that soon enough. The danger lies out on the open water on the edge
of the ice and it is he that is hiding. |
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Like a radar that has just been triggered
the adult grebes know that he is there. This is their territory and
they begin to hunt him down. I watch them patrolling the open water,
heads held low, crests splayed wide and growling deeply. They are uneasy
and are determined to seek him out. Closer and closer they come. The
young bird can only sit tight and hope he is not discovered. All too
soon his cover is blown. A pair of mallards want to leave the water
and he is blocking their way. Indignant quacks break the silence and
like a missile finding its target the grebes home in. |
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As fast as the bird appears he disappears
once again under the ice making a break from harms way. The adult bird
has missed his target and he is far from pleased. The juvenile is a
very small, pale bird, not at all easy to spot amongst the branches
that grow entwined out of the water. Finding him again will take time
but the adults will not give up and so the game of hide and seek continues. |
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Keeping still is the juveniles main defence
and after another similar attack he disappears. Fearing that he may
be lost under the ice I search for him but do not find him. I move on
further up the bank and sit and watch but there is nothing. Then just
as he appeared in the beginning, he appears again close to the banking
right under where I am sitting. At no time do the adults drop their
guard. Many times they overcome their fear of me and come in close,
trying to seek him out. |
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Pity is a human emotion and one that has
no place in nature, but as I watched events unfold I really did pity
this youngster. All he wanted was rest and shelter from the bitter elements.
Many times as the adults closed in I willed him to keep still and not
give himself away but every time the adults found him. So much energy
was lost during this endless game of hide and seek. The afternoon was
growing late and a colder weather front was moving across. There would
be snow tonight. Eventually the juvenile disappeared and although I
searched I could not find him. |
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Feeling weary I gather up my things and
head for home hoping that the young grebe would get through the night.
Reaching the end of the lake I make a final glance at the water in the
very end pool and my spirits are lifted for there he is swimming freely
and out of danger. The adults do not come down this far as this pool
is separate from the rest and so with happier steps I return to my car
pleased with the thought that, for now at least, this young grebe might
have won the game. |
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