The Goosanders are Back! 4th December 2021

At the beginning of December last year I took myself to Stowe, a National Trust property in Buckinghamshire, to photograph five Goosanders that were spending their winter on the lakes that are  a feature of the landscaped gardens. It was a glorious sunny winter's day with still some autumn colour to ward off any feelings of anxiety brought on by the covid pandemic at its worst and the shortened days of December.

Today I re-enacted the experience, as yet another covid crisis seems about to engulf us and yes the sun shone and yes, again there were five Goosanders, three males and two females, just like last year. I would have liked to think they were the same individuals but they were not as one of the females, judging by her plumage, was a first winter bird.

The only difference in the timing of my visit  was that this year it was on a Saturday whereas last year it was a weekday with consequently many less visitors than were evident today.

A half hour drive brought me to Stowe and at 10am, in an already well populated car park, I left my car and made my way down the long track that leads to the gardens, buffeted by a strong and bitingly cold wind that  blew across open fields and into my face, the force of the wind at times almost elemental. A gang of Carrion Crows were cawing in agitation high in a huge tree above me, no more than black silhouettes against a sun that today, approaching the solstice would hardly rise any higher in the sky. The cause of their concern was, for a moment uncertain, but then from the top of the tree came a deep staccato and repetitive, kronk kronk kronk, the call of a Raven. For a minute it remained in the tree and, being larger than the crows that surrounded it, had nothing to fear from them.However, tired of being pestered it quit the tree, pursued by a ragged line of aggrieved crows 

I walked onwards, by no means alone as plenty of other visitors, enticed out by this sunny Saturday morning, were making their way along the track, all of us required to check in at the entrance to the gardens and show our NT member's cards to a man in a shed.

Formalities over I entered the gardens and made for the smaller lake, walking down a manicured grass slope to the water's edge. I could see no sign of any Goosanders and thought I had been over optimistic in assuming they would be here. Less glamorous occupiers of the lake were a small number of  Gadwall and Wigeon, most already paired and idly swimming about, picking weed from the water, accompanied by irascible Coots. 

Wigeon

A Grey Heron stood on one leg on the bank of the larger of two small islands in the lake, a living statue. Contained and composed in the filtered sunlight, sheltered from the wind by encircling evergreen bushes. it was content in the knowledge it was secure from human disturbance. 

I walked under huge trees now virtually leafless, stark skeletons stripped to winter bare branches. The strong wind today would probably complete the removal of any vestige of leaf from the framework of branches above me.

On the lee side of the larger island I found five Goosanders asleep, their long, broad bodies, low in the water, spaced apart like a fleet of moored ships at a safe anchorage. The water was calm here,sheltered from the wind that whipped over the more exposed parts of the lake in roaring gusts. I stood still, my back to a tree trunk so as not to be obvious, although the Goosanders were well aware of my presence but the distance between us gave them no cause for concern.

Eventually, a drake awoke and swam out from the shade and into the sun, its head at first black then acquiring a bottle green iridescence from the shafts of sunlight. It was beautiful, almost exotic in a predominantly white plumage suffused with hints of buff and pink, its carmine bill and poster paint red legs perfect accessories to the feathered finery. It swam steadily away from the island and towards the further bank of the lake followed by the other four, precipitating a tiresome walk on my part, around the lake, in an endeavour to get close enough to photograph them.

This proved much more difficult than last year because the disturbance was that much greater and the birds this time seemed less confiding, swimming away from the bank towards the middle of the lake when anyone  came near. Dogs, of which there were quite a few but thankfully all on leads, definitely put them on high alert.

In quieter moments when human traffic was absent they would gravitate to secluded corners of the lake, chasing small fish near to the bank, shallow diving or snorkelling, where, while swimming they submerge only part of their head to look for prey. Ever wary, as soon as anyone appeared they would cease fishing and paddle towards the centre of the lake.

Somehow I managed on a handful of occasions, using bushes and any other cover available, to get near enough to be able to take a number of images but they would soon sense my presence and move away. 

They are right to be wary of humans as sadly they are still persecuted in many areas where their diet of fish conflicts with those who would rather not share. Here however they are safe for as long as they remain and the fish are plentiful.

Like last year the blue sky and russet tones of dead leaves were reflected into impressionistic patterns of blue, gold, green and olive on the rippling water, a fitting tapestry of colour for the drakes to parade their finery.

Two hours passed in the Goosander's company, an experience both pleasant and frustrating in equal measure. The wind increased, bringing new heights of cold and discomfort with the sun becoming ever more coy. Having felt I had done justice to these attractive birds I took my leave as the gardens became ever busier.

The Goosanders also noticed the increase in visitors and settled for the middle of the lake. 

I will look forward to returning early in the coming year as Stowe offers a rare opportunity to get close to and admire these winter visitors.