On 4th June Dai found a male Garganey on the west bank of the larger reservoir basin that is Farmoor 2 but it flew off towards Farmoor 1, the smaller basin and was not seen again that day.
No more was heard or seen of it until today, Saturday, when Dai refound it on the west bank of Farmoor 1 but it then flew to the west bank of Farmoor 2 where it was more sheltered from the ferocious southwest wind that was blowing across the reservoir and turning the exposed waters to sizeable waves.
I had been at the reservoir since ten in the morning, when it opened, walking along the Thames Path from Lower Whitley Farm to the small entrance gate on the west side of the Farmoor 2. On going through the gate I found a flock of mainly House Martins taking advantage of the shelter provided by a stand of trees by the gate. Back and fore they flew, at head height and often within just a foot of me, passing at incredible speed and flying with great dexterity as they fed on thr insects that were also taking advantage of the comparatively still air.
It was one of those experiences that you know will not be repeated for a long time so you determine to stand and just enjoy it for as long as it lasts. Occasionally I identified a Swallow or two, even a Sand Martin amongst the many House Martins, the latter so close you could clearly see their midnight blue backs. A soot brown Swift also scythed at low level through the throng of smaller birds whilst about three hundred of its compatriots were flying low and well out over the rough waters of the reservoir. Supreme aerial specialists, they were entirely untroubled by the forceful wind.
I left the martins and walked down the central causeway, then around the entire circumference of Farmoor 1, no easy or comfortable task in the cold wind. I was looking for the Garganey that had been seen to fly there by Dai two days ago. It was a lost cause and both chilled and a little despondent I completed my circuit and decided to go down onto the Thames Path which would be sheltered from the wind.
Walking along by the river my phone rang. It was Dai, informing me he had re-found the Garganey on the west bank of Farmoor 1. I was amazed as it certainly was not there when I had walked along there just twenty minutes ago. I doubled back at speed and went through a gate giving me access onto the reservoir. I could not see any sign of the Garganey when I got to the perimeter track but then saw Dai in the near distance by the causeway. It was obvious the Garganey had moved once more.
A short and brisk walk brought me to join Dai who pointed out the Garganey, now settled at the water's edge on the west bank of Farmoor 2, just beyond the causeway. For now it appeared to be settled. Apparently it was flighty due to the increased disturbance from the many people that now come to Farmoor to exercise. Who can blame them in these extraordinary times.
The Garganey was a male and it has to be said was not in its prime, as it was moulting out of its breeding plumage into what is called its eclipse plumage, where it dons a brown and duller plumage similar to the female, but retains the blue grey wing coverts that only males possess. In fact it looked downright scruffy, but the normally extensive white supercilia on its head were just about evident and despite its shabby appearance it was most definitely a Garganey. Always a good record for Farmoor and indeed Oxfordshire.Where it had come from who knows.There has been a pair on Otmoor so possibly it originated from there.
It had flown half way down the causeway but was soon flushed once more by the ever increasing numbers of people walking up and down and oblivious to the duck's presence. Dai last saw the Garganey flying out over Farmoor 2 towards the far southern side.
Silently cursing my bad luck I walked back with my camera to meet Dai and was now faced with a dilemna. Do I remain here at the top of the causeway and hope the Garganey comes back or go in search of it on the far southern side of Farmoor 2, which was an unwelcome mile or so walk. I had no choice really as the duck was not here and if I wanted to photograph it I would have to mount a search.
I set off walking the west side of Farmoor 2, for the third time, but still there was no sign of the Garganey so once I got to Lower Whitley Farm I left the reservoir, got in my car and drove back to the reservoir's main car park, intending to walk around the entire circumference of Farmoor 2 from there. It was now beginning to rain in earnest and I donned my wet weather gear. I reasoned the Garganey had to be somewhere on Farmoor 2 as it would not leave the reservoir in this weather.
I set off walking the west side of Farmoor 2, for the third time, but still there was no sign of the Garganey so once I got to Lower Whitley Farm I left the reservoir, got in my car and drove back to the reservoir's main car park, intending to walk around the entire circumference of Farmoor 2 from there. It was now beginning to rain in earnest and I donned my wet weather gear. I reasoned the Garganey had to be somewhere on Farmoor 2 as it would not leave the reservoir in this weather.
I set off with the full force of the wind whipping around me and tugging at my clothes. Rain spattered on my hood and it was impossible to look out onto the reservoir such was the force of the wind in my face. I was not too worried about missing anything however, as the white waves lashing the shore made it totally inhospitable for any waterfowl.
Blasted by the wind and rain I trudged onwards and reaching the southern side found some relief as I was now sheltered from the wind by trees and life became calmer. I carried on but the few non breeding Coots and some disconsolate Mallard were all that were to be seen. A distant female Mallard with a conspicuous pale supercilium set my pulse to a slightly higher rate but it was far too large. I rounded the far southwest corner and was now back where I had walked what now felt hours before. Lower Whitley Farm was below me to my left. I approached the numerous fly fishermen taking advantage of the sheltered conditions and headed onwards for the central causeway. Passing the last of the fishermen I was approaching the central causeway, where a gathering of Greylag Geese and a few Mallard were taking their ease on the concrete shelving by the water and as I approached I checked through my bins, just in case, but was fairly certain I would draw a blank. I looked and there was a small duck near to the Mallard. The Garganey! Where it had been all the while since I checked here and found nothing I could not say but here it was now and that was all that mattered. Persistence in adversity had on this rare occasion paid off.
Bearing in mind how flighty it had been I approached with some caution but it remained where it was, stood at the shallow water's edge. I took some record shots and then edged closer.
It did not move. Emboldened and with bated breath I moved ever closer and still it remained where it was. I sat on the perimeter wall to admire it and it left the water and walked up the concrete shelving to stand and preen a little.
It vigorously ruffled its breast with its bill and a few white feathers drifted away while others stuck to its bill to further emphasis its scruffy appearance, Then a scratch of its head. Satisfied it had dealt with a doubtless irritating itch it stood and looked out across the reservoir and then stretched its wing horizontally to reveal the lovely pastel blue grey wing coverts.This wing stretching motion in birds, especially waterfowl, is always one of gentle considered movement, never hurried, a supremely relaxing thing to watch that speaks of calm and contentment for both perpetrator and admirer. It was obvious the Garganey had no concerns about my close proximity and was going nowhere.
I moved closer still and it sat down, perfectly at ease. Closer still I moved until I was no more than five feet from it. Quite remarkable. It showed not the slightest concern and I once more sat on the wall and watched. For a while it stood there and finally tucked its bill into its feathers and went to sleep. So close I could see its brown eye opening every so often to check on me.
Its plumage was, to be honest, a mess. A jumble of new and old feathers gave it a dishevilled appearance. Random unmoulted feathers from its breeding plumage were competing with the emerging brown feathers that were replacing them.The impression of disorder was enhanced by the fact that the vermiculated pale grey breeding feathers of the right flank were virtually moulted out with just one conspicuous grey feather remaining. Conversely its left flank had many more grey feathers yet to be moulted. Most of the attenuated rear scapular feathers had vanished and the bold white supercilia above its eyes were fading and becoming indistinct due to being replaced by browner feathers. Like Mallards it does become flightless for a brief period of 3-4 weeks between mid June and mid August as it moults into its eclipse plumage.Whether it remains at Farmoor while it accomplishes this remains to be seen
I have never seen a moulting Garganey before, only ones in full summer plumage or in their complete winter plumage of mottled brown. It is highly unusual to find one so much in the open as here on the windswept expanses of Farmoor as they are a normally secretive duck much preferring to hide in reeds and riparian vegetation, especially when undergoing their moult. The opportunity to be able to study this individual from such close quarters was a definite bonus and I am sure I will endeavour to check on the progress of its moult on my future visits to Farmoor, at least so long as it remains here.
Diminutive when seen against the surrounding bulk of the Greylags, it squatted its somewhat portly body on the concrete, continued to ignore me and carried on with its siesta. Then a Greylag came too close and it took to the water to dabble in the shallows, swimming back and fore in front of me, upending in the water to pick things from the submerged concrete while trying to evade a couple of irascible Coots. It joined some Mallard drakes swimming on the water but soon made its way back to the shore and walked back onto the concrete to once again sleep.
I left it to its peaceful slumber, marvelling at this apparent change in behaviour from earlier in the day. I checked an app on my phone and found that I had walked 7.8 miles, most of it around the reservoir in search of the Garganey. Exhausted from tramping miles of Farmoor's unforgiving concrete and tarmac I sat for a good while on the perimeter wall just feet from the Garganey which remained asleep for the most part, only occasionally waking to deal with an itch from a moulting feather before snuggling its bill back into its feathers to sleep once more.
I hope it remains here until it has completed its moult. It seems a bit early for it to be moulting so maybe it is a drake that has failed to find a mate. It will depart British shores in August or September by which time it will have completed its moult and be an inconspicuous brown duck far less likely to be noticed by predators.
Its winter home is many thousands of miles away from Farmoor in the tropics of southern Africa where, if it survives, it will moult into its breeding finery and fly north once again next year.
Blasted by the wind and rain I trudged onwards and reaching the southern side found some relief as I was now sheltered from the wind by trees and life became calmer. I carried on but the few non breeding Coots and some disconsolate Mallard were all that were to be seen. A distant female Mallard with a conspicuous pale supercilium set my pulse to a slightly higher rate but it was far too large. I rounded the far southwest corner and was now back where I had walked what now felt hours before. Lower Whitley Farm was below me to my left. I approached the numerous fly fishermen taking advantage of the sheltered conditions and headed onwards for the central causeway. Passing the last of the fishermen I was approaching the central causeway, where a gathering of Greylag Geese and a few Mallard were taking their ease on the concrete shelving by the water and as I approached I checked through my bins, just in case, but was fairly certain I would draw a blank. I looked and there was a small duck near to the Mallard. The Garganey! Where it had been all the while since I checked here and found nothing I could not say but here it was now and that was all that mattered. Persistence in adversity had on this rare occasion paid off.
Bearing in mind how flighty it had been I approached with some caution but it remained where it was, stood at the shallow water's edge. I took some record shots and then edged closer.
It vigorously ruffled its breast with its bill and a few white feathers drifted away while others stuck to its bill to further emphasis its scruffy appearance, Then a scratch of its head. Satisfied it had dealt with a doubtless irritating itch it stood and looked out across the reservoir and then stretched its wing horizontally to reveal the lovely pastel blue grey wing coverts.This wing stretching motion in birds, especially waterfowl, is always one of gentle considered movement, never hurried, a supremely relaxing thing to watch that speaks of calm and contentment for both perpetrator and admirer. It was obvious the Garganey had no concerns about my close proximity and was going nowhere.
I moved closer still and it sat down, perfectly at ease. Closer still I moved until I was no more than five feet from it. Quite remarkable. It showed not the slightest concern and I once more sat on the wall and watched. For a while it stood there and finally tucked its bill into its feathers and went to sleep. So close I could see its brown eye opening every so often to check on me.
Its plumage was, to be honest, a mess. A jumble of new and old feathers gave it a dishevilled appearance. Random unmoulted feathers from its breeding plumage were competing with the emerging brown feathers that were replacing them.The impression of disorder was enhanced by the fact that the vermiculated pale grey breeding feathers of the right flank were virtually moulted out with just one conspicuous grey feather remaining. Conversely its left flank had many more grey feathers yet to be moulted. Most of the attenuated rear scapular feathers had vanished and the bold white supercilia above its eyes were fading and becoming indistinct due to being replaced by browner feathers. Like Mallards it does become flightless for a brief period of 3-4 weeks between mid June and mid August as it moults into its eclipse plumage.Whether it remains at Farmoor while it accomplishes this remains to be seen
I have never seen a moulting Garganey before, only ones in full summer plumage or in their complete winter plumage of mottled brown. It is highly unusual to find one so much in the open as here on the windswept expanses of Farmoor as they are a normally secretive duck much preferring to hide in reeds and riparian vegetation, especially when undergoing their moult. The opportunity to be able to study this individual from such close quarters was a definite bonus and I am sure I will endeavour to check on the progress of its moult on my future visits to Farmoor, at least so long as it remains here.
Diminutive when seen against the surrounding bulk of the Greylags, it squatted its somewhat portly body on the concrete, continued to ignore me and carried on with its siesta. Then a Greylag came too close and it took to the water to dabble in the shallows, swimming back and fore in front of me, upending in the water to pick things from the submerged concrete while trying to evade a couple of irascible Coots. It joined some Mallard drakes swimming on the water but soon made its way back to the shore and walked back onto the concrete to once again sleep.
I left it to its peaceful slumber, marvelling at this apparent change in behaviour from earlier in the day. I checked an app on my phone and found that I had walked 7.8 miles, most of it around the reservoir in search of the Garganey. Exhausted from tramping miles of Farmoor's unforgiving concrete and tarmac I sat for a good while on the perimeter wall just feet from the Garganey which remained asleep for the most part, only occasionally waking to deal with an itch from a moulting feather before snuggling its bill back into its feathers to sleep once more.
I hope it remains here until it has completed its moult. It seems a bit early for it to be moulting so maybe it is a drake that has failed to find a mate. It will depart British shores in August or September by which time it will have completed its moult and be an inconspicuous brown duck far less likely to be noticed by predators.
Its winter home is many thousands of miles away from Farmoor in the tropics of southern Africa where, if it survives, it will moult into its breeding finery and fly north once again next year.
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