A walk on the wildside

THE WAYS OF MOTHER NATURE

Recently in our Walk on the Wildside column, we featured that much maligned bird the cormorant. A friend made the point to me that they do not belong on our rivers, that they are birds of the sea and estuarys. He is quiet right, but they are on our rivers now to stay.

They have established themselves and that is the way of nature. Who would have thought thirty years ago that such an exotic bird as the little egret would become a common sight on our rivers?

One of the first places where these beautiful snow-white birds established themselves was on the lower reaches of the estuary of the Blackwater. In 1997 they were recorded as successfully breeding in the same area, perhaps the fact that they are moving into our rivers is due to climate change?

Like herons, little egrets are notoriously shy of people, it is very difficult to get near them. They have every reason to be afraid of mankind, they were once hunted for their plumes which were used to decorate ladies hats.

I understand my friend’s point about the depredations carried out by cormorants, perhaps if they confined their diet to coarse fish they would be more popular.

They can be seen every day from dawn to dusk, often fishing just above and below Fermoy Bridge and they do not abide by the rules, taking under-size fish and what is more, catching them out of season.

A water-bird that is rarely seen is the dabchick also known as the little grebe. These dainty birds like their privacy and will dive underwater when threatened.

A friend of mine who spends much time walking along the banks of the river and who is very observant in the ways of birds, tells me that he occasionally sees dabchicks in the wide stretch of the river at the end of Barnane Walk. Like our water hens, they too have suffered from the depredations of mink, a very unwelcome species that are now well established on our rivers and streams.

When seen at close quarters, dabchicks have beautiful plumage, especially in summertime when they put out their finest colours, of deep red around the face and neck and a distinct yellow spot on the bill. Their name in Irish is very expressive, it is spagaire, a rough translation of which is flat-footed or clumsy.

Dabchicks build their nests on a floating tangle of water-weeds, but anchored in most cases to the river-bank or to a root. Their chicks are able to swim at birth, but will climb onto their parent’s backs and hide at the least sign of alarm.

The unique courtship of these birds has been captured by BBC wildlife teams, which shows a pair about to mate, singing what can only be described as a love duet. This often ends with the male presenting the female with a gift of weeds, how wonderful are the ways of Mother Nature.