Monthly Archives: May 2014

Birds, Medical

Survival? Against All the Odds.

I didn’t see the accident — just the blood on the road as I swerved to miss her as she  staggered blindly in my way.  I stopped and the cars behind were already pulling out to overtake me,  I  switched on the hazard warning-lights, jumped out and ran back.

No one else stopped —  they hadn’t seen her — now she lay helpless in the gutter — I had to be quick or there would be another accident.

I could smell her blood, it was on my hands as I tried to hold her — steady her.  She struggled and kicked — there were two huge gashes on her head, I could see the bone, liquid was bubbling from one of her eyes and blood was coming from her nostrils, strangely the cars whizzed past, their drivers oblivious to the drama.

I had nothing with which to do anything.  I ran back to the car and found some carrier bags and the dog’s lead (no first aid kit of course) — anyway there was no time for that.  I tore the bags flat and wrapped her in them, swaddling the little duck like a baby and trussed her up with the dogs lead so that she would not injure herself any more — she calmed.  I lay her in the dark boot of the car wedging her in so she wouldn’t roll about then closed the lid.

Now I could have driven to town, to the vet — yes, she was  (and still is) a duck — a little mallard, hit by a car — well she probably flew into the moving vehicle — she was, is after all, female — but I did not.  I’ve seen the expression on their faces when you present them with a wild thing and I’ve paid the price!

No, I took her home.  My husband groaned and, once again, our wet-room came into it’s own.

?????????????????????????????Trying to walk, she repeatedly toppled over to the right but in the half light of the darkened shower room she settled and sat quietly all that day and all the next.  Nothing ate her.  She moved around a little but would not eat the slugs which I had collected for her and which climbed their slimy way circuitously to the ceiling , nor did she try the bread in water which she spilled, nor the caterpillars that pupated on the tap.

On the third day, she was thin, dehydrated and matted but walked more steadily and looked up at me as if she saw me.   We had to go away to a funeral the next day so first thing in the morning I carried her to our pond and put her down gently by its side.  All the way there she was looking from side to side  as if getting her bearings..  Next thing she topples forward and plop!  She’s in the water, she lowers her head so that the pond water flows into her beak and she takes a long cool drink and paddles off purposefully around the margin  of the pond.

Away to safety.

Away to safety.

On the far side she climbs out onto the bank under the muddy cliff where the water from the spring  runs down in a curtain.  She settles there washed by the tiny waterfall.

Next evening when we return she is still there.  She watches me throw bread on the water then stands up straight and flaps her wings two or three times to test them, shakes herself and settles down again.

Camouflaged.

Camouflaged.

 

Next morning the bread is gone and so is she, flown away or carried off by a fox.  But wait…

What's that?

What’s that?

There she is, sitting near the path, ready for breakfast.

Breakfast!

Breakfast!

We have a friend who is a farmer, when asked if he has to get up a lot in the night for his animals he says, ‘No, God does the night shift.’

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Wales

First Footprint in the Sand

It is exciting to discover the unexpected — that’s the marvel of Wales.  You can walk over a hill and stumble into the unexpected –not an upland bog but a Roman hill-fort,  a medieval rabbit warren, a bronze age settlement or simply an unbelievable view.  Often there is nothing on the map — many minor ancient monuments remain unknown or long forgotten.

Yesterday my daughter and I went to explore the Dysynni Valley where we knew there was a magic castle, now ruined, in what my daughter described when we got there as probably the most beautiful place she has ever been.  There is a sign from the road and a single information board at its entry which is a wooden kissing gate with no fasten, no attendant, no charge and no sign of any other visitors although we did come across two elderly couples coming down the path as we walked up.

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Castell-y-Bere was built by Prince Llewelyn ab Iorwerth (the great) in the 1220’s, it was captured by the English under King Edward I, from Llewelyn’s grandson (Llewelyn ap Gruffudd — pronounced Griffith– and not so great) in 1282 and later abandoned by the English after a considerable battering and a fire in about 1294 at the hands of Madoc ap Llewelyn.  It was never very practical as it could not be supplied by sea.

The approach through trees
Ruined Castle on hillock
Exploring the castle ruins

The views are stunning.  There is a wide flat valley where one can imagine the sea coming into the estuary and washing the lower ramparts  and breaking against the nearby tall sea cliffs — but this was not the case —  the sea had long gone even then but the birds that nested on this rocky coast have always remained.

View to North from Castle
View to the South
Bird Rock

Bird Rock

Yesterday, as we looked up at Craig yr Aderyn, Bird Rock, towering nearby, there was only one thing we bold explorers could do in the spring sunshine perfumed by may blossom  — we had to climb from the castle mound to the top of the ancient sea-cliff to look down.

We passed not a single human, there were no signs and no restrictions, only one love-lorn chaffinch singing most beautifully to its mate in the tree above and so absorbed that he was oblivious to us and our dog.

?????????????????????????????Further up the path the hardy sheep were not so amenable, they stamped their feet aggressively at Pedro on his best behavior and on a lead and when one of these ginger-footed psycho-sheep found itself separated from the rest it squawked like  the eponymous creature of the rock…  Then lost its nerve and ran behind an outcrop to hide.

Psycho-sheep

Psycho-sheep

????????????????????????????? After an 850 foot climb we were on top of the world, looking down.  We saw the sun sinking  towards the sea in Cardigan Bay — a bird’s eye view of the valley.

Track to summit
Bird’s eye view
To the West and the low sun

Cormorants stand on the highest outcrops of the cliff face stretching out their wings to dry in the evening sun, this is their only inland nesting site in Wales.  We can look down on circling gulls and strain our eyes to pick out the red beaks of the choughs (pronounced chuffs — shiny black crows with finger-tipped wings, red down-turned beaks and red legs). This is one of their rare nesting sites, a place where the sheep graze down the sward and no-one kills the insects — just how they like it.  Here they wing their way around the crags throughout the year having aerial skirmishes with gulls and swooping down to bounce off the side of the steep hill.

As we came down, picking our way over a bank of stones which meanders around the side of the summit farthest from the valley we remarked that it looked like a fallen dry stone wall, but then there were two larger mounds of haphazard stone — perhaps not entirely haphazard —  we can see courses, still just discernable in the heap — a tumble down watch tower perhaps — there you go again — ?????????????????????????????first footprint in the sand…  Turns out there were two — towers, not footprints!.

 

 

 

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Wales

Hiraeth

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 Hiraeth — one of the most important words in the Welsh language yet without an exact equivalent in English — that says it all really.

An Englishman would say homesickness — a negative feeling that unsettles you and stops you doing your job properly.  In the Celtic vernacular hiraeth is a sense of incompleteness tinged with longing — it embodies the spirit, the beauty of the landscape and the belonging.

It is that feeling we have at dusk, in the bluebell wood — it is love — it is God —  it is home.

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Ecology

A Miracle? That’s what we need.

It is an apparition — a visitation — something from beyond our world — or perhaps from a time long gone —  extinct in Wales for decades, centuries — usually only seen with the dragons and griffons on coats of arms drawn long ago.  It is the Welsh fish-hawk, gweilch y pysgod,  hovering once more over the shallow waters and mud flats of the Dovey (Dyfi) estuary: an osprey.SONY DSCThe strenuous attempts of local, national and international ornithologists have been successful in luring back a single pair of nesting ‘fish eagles’ to a  muddy, midgey corner of Wales.  The female now sits on an untidy nest on a man-made platform at the top of a very tall pole.  They have returned from West Africa, where they migrate, to breed and lay their eggs.  She incubates them while fed by her mate who fishes in the waters around.  She looks out, moving her head jerkily to scan for intruders and all the while the CCTV mounted on the nearby pole scans her — recording her every movement and the visits of the male and those of the little train that clatters past every hour, around the water’s edge on its way to and from the university town of Aberystwyth.  Students on the train, often of natural sciences, know she is there and point her out to fellow travelers.

The nest is a place of pilgrimage — a birdy shrine.  Birdy folk come, they walk the half mile along the new board-walk to the soft-wood cathedral in the marsh — the new observation tower.

From the weather proof lounge at the top they can divest themselves of their long distance lenses and state-of-the-art cameras and unwrap their sandwiches.  There is a telescope fixed on the precise spot and, once you know it is there, you can indeed just see the nest platform with the naked eye and once you get the image home and magnify it — bingo:

The live-feed from the CCTV is excellent (you can view it online) — displayed on wide screens in the cathedral and at journey’s end — the gift shop.  It is also transmitted to the hide near the car park  for those who cannot make the pilgrimage along the board-walk through the peaceful marsh where only the dim twitter of warblers and reed bunting reminds us that this is a habitat — a sanctuary for birds — you can’t blame the usual inhabitants for keeping their heads down today — there is an osprey about!.

Thanks to Montgomeryshire Wildlife Trust for their permission to show photographs Creative Commons License   taken from their live feed.  View the birds yourself at http://www.montwt.co.uk

Dovey Estuary

Dovey Estuary

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