Whilst doing a week of volunteering for the RSPB at South Stack in Anglesey, on two successive evenings after my duties were over for the day, I drove ten miles to spend the evening at Cemlyn Bay Nature Reserve to view the tern colony and enjoy the tranquil rural surrounds in which it is situated. At this time of day it is not unusual to find one's self entirely alone here and after a full on day of welcoming and talking to the many visitors at South Stack it was a welcome opportunity to bring body and soul back into harmony.
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| The lagoon and the main tern island |
A tern colony is never quiet, in fact quite the opposite, especially as this colony is predominantly made up of Sandwich Terns, one of the larger and more raucous species of tern and that come to breed at Cemlyn. White and pearl grey birds with an ink black cap and yellow tipped dagger of a bill.
The noise they generate, night and day, non stop, is quite incredible but despite this auditory jarring one is also impressed by Cemlyn's overall calm, engendered by the peaceful ambience of a wide sweep of bay and open sea beyond. It is as if the noisy colony is subsumed into the overall landscape and becomes part of rather than distinct from the whole.
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| Cemlyn Bay |
Sandwich Terns, despite their harsh calls are supremely elegant birds, built for a life at sea and amongst the Sandwich Terns there are also lesser numbers of equally elegant but smaller Arctic Terns and Common Terns. All are summer visitors, the Sandwich and Common Terns coming to us from West Africa, the Arctic Terns, as their name implies covering incredible distances from a winter home ten thousand miles away.
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| Sandwich Terns |
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| Common Tern |
I made my way across a million rounded stones that comprise the unique elliptical shingle ridge called Esgair Cemlyn, liberally studded with green and white clumps of sea kale, to stand opposite the colony which is situated on two islands in a large lagoon.
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| Sea Kale |
A constant passage of individual terns passed very close to me, leaving the colony with loud cries as if excited to be returning to the sea, their true home, passing over the ridge of stones where I stood, thence to sweep down across the stony shore and out to sea while others returned, often carrying a gift of a small fish for their mate on its nest.
Viewing the departing or arriving terns passing so close, you can see how lithe and muscular are their slim bodies, propelled on long wings which cause their bodies to rise slightly with each upwards beat of wings. Grace personified, the speed at which they fly is deceptive as they power past me and away out to sea and I struggle to focus the camera on them before they are past and gone..
Two Arctic Terns were discreetly courting on the shoreline of the lagoon, having removed themselves well away from any possible interruption, the birds contorting and adopting exaggerated poses to impress each other whilst two Black headed Gulls indulged in their own ritualised, synchronised two step strutting display, both species genetically programmed to perform these actions and innocent of the natural elegance that so delighted me.
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| Arctic Terns |
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| Black headed Gulls |
Turning away from the colony I looked out to the bay and then to the beauty of its pastoral surrounds. It was a calm evening, the inexorable decline of the sun heralding that golden hour when the land is transformed with a mellow light.
A melancholy came over me as I gazed from shore to sea, the gentle waves rippling on the stones with not another soul to be seen and the tern's incessant cries coming from behind me. Idyllic maybe but all is not well here despite the spectacle of the breeding terns. The colony is only half the size it should be, the terns unaware of the deadly virus that stalks them as they gather close, to nest on the islands. The latest mutation of avian flu, virulent and lethal has claimed many of their number and is infecting others every day. A sick Common Tern, weak and unable to stand, sat on the stones with eyes closed awaiting its fate. A lonely death for such a sociable bird.
The other terns, uncaring of its plight carry on as if their world was normal but it is not and I fear for them and for their future.
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