Fine Feathers at Farmoor 9th March 2019

An arrangement to meet Andy at Farmoor came to fruition this morning at 8am as the gates to the reservoir were opened and we drove in to park our cars. It was becoming very windy and the cloudy conditions were interspersed with fleeting but welcome sunny spells.

On walking up to the Causeway it got a whole lot more windy as the southwest wind whipped unhindered across the waters of the reservoir making life more than a little uncomfortable. There was not much to see as we walked along, apart from three Common Goldeneye that, as usual, resolutely swam away from us and further out on the smaller basin which is Farmoor 1. An immature Greater Black backed Gull was hunkered down on one of the pontoons, face into the wind and a Common Redshank with a melancholy fluting cry, fled from the concrete shelving beside the water.

There was not a sign of the hoped for Sand Martins and who could blame them on such an un-springlike day. When we got to the far end of the Causeway we awaited the arrival of Dai who we could see driving around the larger of the two basins, Farmoor 2. When he got to us we had a brief chat and Dai told us he too had seen very little but on my enquiring about the Kingfishers  he confirmed he had seen them just this morning at their favourite pool and they now seemed to be making more regular appearances there.

This was encouraging to both Andy and myself as it would be good to have a chance of photographing the Kingfisher and also to enjoy the additional benefit of sitting in a hide out of the chilling wind. As we walked along the reservoir's perimeter track towards the hide a couple of amorous Great crested Grebes commenced displaying and strengthening their pair bond. Where they will nest, if they do, is another matter as there is absolutely nowhere on the reservoir that is suitable so either they will leave or like others of their kind remain on the reservoir without breeding.

Great crested Grebes

We walked down from the reservoir, entered the hide and found we had it to ourselves. We sat for a good thirty minutes but there was no sign of any Kingfisher.The door then opened and Dai joined us with his ever faithful dog Billy. We talked briefly but Billy was restless so Dai departed.

The view from the hide looking out over the pool

Ten minutes later the Kingfisher arrived, silently flying in over the reeds at the far end of the pool and coming to rest on its favourite branch in a small Alder  tree overhanging the shallow water. 

The Kingfisher's favourite Alder tree where it perched to fish.

It did not remain long, ten seconds if that, before it flew to the far end of the pool and perched low down on a dead reed stem angled over the water .

A minute later it flew back again, to perch on the same branch as before and eyed the water below. Suddenly it dropped from its perch and dived, with a splash into the water and then flew back up to perch in the tree with a water boatman beetle in its bill.

It proceeded to whack the beetle against the branch just as it would with a fish. A bit un-necessary in my opinion as the tiny beetle was  incapable of putting up any resistance or escaping, firmly clamped as it was in the Kingfisher's formidable bill. We noted the Kingfisher was a male as there was no red on its lower mandible.

On previous occasions when watching the kingfishers they only remained at the pool for a few minutes but today the male was present and mainly visible for at least twenty minutes but inbetween fishing bouts from the branch it would fly to parts of the pool that were more sheltered from the wind, perching low down. I speculated that it was troubled by the wind and had decided the pool was a more sheltered option than the nearby River Thames. However the much favoured alder branch was also fairly exposed, and in strong gusts of wind the Kingfisher would sway with all the dexterity of a high wire artiste, compensating for the motion of the thin branch in the wind but always contriving to  keep its head absolutely motionless while its body swayed to maintain its balance on the branch.

This periodic buffeting by the wind was probably the motive for the Kingfisher to seek out the more sheltered areas of the pond, there to perch quietly for a while but it constantly returned to catch beetles from its favoured branch which looked to be about the optimum height for fishing.

It was a pleasure, nay a thrill to have such an extended opportunity to photograph the Kingfisher  but sadly there was to be no image of the vivid blue streak on its back, as due to the direction of the wind it always faced towards us. The Kingfisher caught several beetles and then finally flew off beyond the pool, over the reeds from whence it had first arrived, heading in the direction of Pinkhill Reserve and we took this as our cue to leave too.

Reed Buntings are prolific here, attracted as are Mallards, Moorhens, Chaffinches and Dunnocks by the fallen seed from the feeder in the Alder tree, which they pick up from the ground. The male Reed Buntings are almost at their best now, the black on their heads virtually complete,  ready for Spring.

Male Reed Bunting

During quiet spells in the hide when the Kingfisher was absent or perched half concealed in a quiet corner I concentrated on a pair of Common Pheasants picking up seed at a prodigious rate below the feeder. Yes, I know they are everywhere, and millions are released each year for the chinless ones to massacre and bray about in the pub afterwards but take a close look at a male every so often and see just how beautiful and intricately patterned its plumage is.

In the periodic sunshine this morning the male looked absolutely superb, a very handsome bird indeed, his long tail feathers blowing in the wind, strutting around with one of his females, who ran submissively around him, a dowdy acolyte, forever at his whim.

A pleasant couple of hours in the hide came to a close but on getting outside  and back up to the reservoir we found the wind had increased to such an extent it was hard to counter as we walked back along the exposed Causeway, the increased wind strength creating white horses that surged across the reservoir. Still, at the other end of the Causeway, was sanctuary and welcome refreshment at the yacht club cafe.