Parental Duties of the Grebe Kind 20th July 2025

As is my usual custom I made my way to Farmoor Reservoir early this morning.A night of rain had precipitated my early arrival in anticipation that it may have persuaded a wader or two to drop in, perhaps even a tern species other than the regular complement of Common Tens that have arrived on the reservoir over the last two weeks, two of them accompanied by a fully grown juvenile which even now they occasionally feed despite it being fully grown and well able to fend for itself.

The tern family have taken up residence at the very end of the landing stage in the yacht marina although sometimes retreating to perch on the various buoys scattered across the reservoir or the railings by the valve tower on the smaller basin.

Juvenile Common Tern

Of course my optimism was soon dispelled with a walk along the causeway revealing very little apart from a few Sand Martins and Swallows brought down by the lowering clouds to hunt insects almost at ground level The juvenile Red crested Pochard  that has lingered here for some days now was feeding in the choppy waters and as usual associating with some dowdy moulting Mallards. 

Juvenile Red crested Pochard

On gaining the far end of the causeway I joined Dave who had seen pretty much the same as me.We stood and chatted whilst scanning the two reservoir basins..A few more hirundines scudded across the grey waters, rising and falling as they mastered the contrary currents of the strengthening wind and we were joined by Ben. It was Dave who saved the day when on turning to scan the smaller basin discovered a Black Tern arriving from the north and which proceeded to steadily beat into a strong southeast headwind, frustratingly always remaining far out in the middle of the basin. It intermittently revealed itself but always at a distance and eventually transferred to the larger basin and with the mizzle of rain proved a trial to locate as its grey plumage faithfully matched the similar coloured waters that it flew over. 

Dave departed as did Ben. I hung on for a while in case anything else might arrive but it looked unlikely and the reservoir, as it always does these days became ever more busy with joggers,walkers yachts and windsurfers.

There was little point in remaining so in a mood for somewhere a little quieter and less busy I took myself to Rushy Common, a few miles distant, operating on the maxim that 'a change is as good as a rest'. Also Rushy has a nice hide to sit in which would make a pleasant alternative to the  exposed concrete causeway I currently stood upon and that has become so familiar over the years.

It was proving a day of intermittent light rain, enough to be tiresome and again it would be an unfamiliar pleasure to not be exposed to the capricious elements on the reservoir's causeway but safe in a capacious hide which I would probably have entirely to myself.

Rushy Common  is situated in open countryside, distant enough from the nearby town of Witney to require access by car and is a nature reserve created from a former gravel pit with working pits just the other side of the rural single carriageway road that leads to it. Access to the hide is along a track to a  gate secured by a formidable padlock which can be opened by a key. Another short walk then brings you to the hide which overlooks a large lake and can be opened by the same key as require for the gate

Due to the secure location of the hide it is possible to keep ref books and other birding paraphernalia safe inside which is rare these days due to wanton vandalism but so far so good with regard to Rushy and the hide remains comfortable and clean..

I entered the hide, a familiar odour of ageing damp wood greeting me. I opened the viewing slats and drawing up a bench looked out beyond.

Nothing much was apparent at first but a large white bird with a smaller one nearby, stalking along the far bank proved to be a Great White and a Little Egret.The former once a national rarity but now very much a breeding bird on the Somerset Levels is also regular in Oxfordshire, virtually year round although as yet there have been no known breeding records but I doubt it will be long

After this minor triumph nothing more came to interrupt what became a gentle freewheeling of spirit and body as I contemplated the lake and its rural surrounds, my mind sorting through the ephemera gathered within and that gently comes and goes in quiet moments such as this. It is not unpleasant this rinsing of emotions and experiences, a cleansing if you wish, to prepare for the stuff of life to come. Mindfulness seems to be the word for it these days although I have practiced it for years.

My reverie was interrupted as one of the lake's residents came into view, a Great crested Grebe, floating in lazy circles on the water a little way out from me. Idling and quite at ease.

There was however something not quite right about the humped shape of its back and checking through my scope I saw to my surprise and I confess delight, the sight of a young grebe sat snugly amongst the brown feathers of its parent's back. Its head, akin  in appearance to those delicious humbugs that I used to suck on the way to school, poked out enquiringly, a greyish white head that was decorated by black stripes and a curious triangle of pink skin on its crown. I always hoped to be in a position to photograph this well known aspect of grebe behaviour, swans do it too, and here, by sheer chance that opportunity had presented itself.

I set about taking some images and on checking them on the back of my camera found there were actually two young birds on the grebe's back! 

The parent bird continued to cruise about without much purpose and remaining roughly where it had first appeared on the lake and for fifteen minutes parent and offspring idled time away on the water. Their apparent contentment infectious and drawing me, in mind if not in body into their watery world.

Then a harsh sharp call, almost a dog like bark came from further out on the lake and another Great crested Grebe was swimming purposefully towards the trio. In its bill it carried a fairly large fish, possibly a roach which was held securely between black mandibles, dangling helplessly from their pointed tips. Slowly it approached the other grebe and proffered the fish to one of the young but it proved too big and was abandoned.Later the same young bird was offered a much more suitable and manageable stickleback.

I assumed the parent transporting the young on its back was the female but it was impossible to tell for sure. 

The young eventually left the grebe's back and with each remaining very close to a parent followed in their wake 

Judging by the size of the juveniles it will not be long before they are too big to hitch a lift but for now the parents  seemed content enough to indulge their progeny

After  half an hour they swam back into the reeds further along the shore and I saw them no more