Otmoor RSPB reserve is home, either permanently or temporarily, to many fish-eating birds. For the past couple of months the water levels at the southern lagoon have been dropped so that invasive reeds can be cut down with a view to re-flooding later in order to kill off further emergent growth which can choke the water channels. The lower water level has exposed a large area of mud which has proved attractive to lots of wading birds recently including a few scarcer species such as Black-tailed Godwit, Wood Sandpiper and Little Stint. The depth of water in the lagoon has been lowered to just a few inches in places and not much more than a foot or so over most of it and the shallows have attracted the fish hunting birds, Grey Herons, Little Egrets and Cormorants. Cattle Egrets have also been seen at the lagoon although in truth they just used it a resting place and preferred to feed out on the grassland amongst the cattle (naturally). In recent weeks the star of the show at the lagoon and reedbeds, other than the resident Bitterns and Marsh Harriers, has been a Great Egret which has been taking full advantage of the shallow water and has been seen catching fish just metres away from the screen which has resulted in some very excellent images being taken by photographers.
Mrs Caley and I walked out onto Otmoor on the Sunday (3rd October) hoping for our own great views of the Great Egret. On our way to the screen we enjoyed close views of a Red Kite which was patrolling above the bridleway. We see many Red Kites daily above our house so I've become more than a little blasé about them and on Otmoor they are more than a small problem with their habit of feasting on the chicks of some of the wading birds that breed on the reserve. Apparently Red Kites have been seen to take fish in true Osprey and White-tailed Eagle style so maybe in time they'll change their own feeding patterns and also raid the lagoon for snacks.
At the lagoon the screen was reasonably busy with visiting birders and the old faithful guard and we caught up with the gossip as well as watching out for the birds. The Great Egret was stood out by the closest island of reeds but showing little intention of actually fishing. In fact it was getting hassle from a particular Grey Heron which had decided that it didn't want any other Herons or Egrets at its own dining table and was consistently harassing and chasing the other birds, particularly a juvenile Grey Heron, probably one of its own offspring, out of the lagoon.
The Great Egret was moved on frequently by the bossy Grey Heron which made for some excellent flight views and photographic opportunities. The Great Egret was mainly forced out onto the small islands and for the most part of our ninety minute vigil didn't even try to fish, much to the relief of the underwater inhabitants. A fair sized Pike thrashing in the shallows while seeking its own meal would have kept the smaller fry on their collective fins though.
Common Snipe are much in evidence amongst the exposed stubble at the lagoon. They are of course incredibly well camouflaged and on first glances you wouldn't even guess they are there but careful scrutiny reveals first one, then another and another until you realise that there are maybe as many as fifty secreted out there. Sometimes they show more openly when they feed along the muddy edges for invertebrate prey. Fish are probably fond of Snipe because Snipe don't eat them although I bet the tiniest fish find their way onto the Snipe menu as an hors d'oeuvre occasionally! The Snipe are also continually flying around the reedbeds and lagoon area, moving from one feeding area to another. As we sat looking out at the Egret and Herons a trio of Snipe flew directly towards the screen and I luckily managed a few in focus shots as they passed. The camera settings were all wrong of course because I was trained on the gleaming white Egret so had the camera under exposed (light subject against dark background blah blah) and the Snipe really required an over exposed or at least a neutral setting but the resulting images were pleasing anyway. Such intricately patterned underwings!
The Great Egret continued to be the brunt of antisocial behaviour from the bullish Heron and made several more flypasts to the delight of the assembled photographers. We watched a male Sparrowhawk fly over the reeds pursued by an equally aggressive Carrion Crow, the raptor had to dive into the reeds to avoid the bigger bird. It was also so very blissful when the sun came out and warmed up the air and gave me a bit more of a chance to dry out after my complete soaking while twitching the Leach's Storm Petrel the day before (see here). The increase in the warmth had a detrimental impact on my lens though which, despite being dismantled and allowed to dry next to a radiator at home after that drenching, decided to fog up. So for the remainder of the session my photos were all subject to an inbuilt aura which ruined my ability to capture more shots of the action although it did lend a rather interesting "halo" effect on some of the shots.
The following Sunday (10th October), after spending Saturday twitching a very rare wading bird (a Long-toed Stint) in Yorkshire, we were back on the Moor. Our general pattern these days is to spend the first day of the weekend travelling to see something rare or scarce and then birding locally on the second day. Of course if a rarer species presents itself on a Sunday then we'd still go and see it and the local stuff would have to wait for another Sabbath Day. We were late going out, another bad habit I've acquired recently but I'm tired a lot, and expected to see the carpark busy so were surprised when we saw just five other cars there. As usual for this time of year there was little to witness along the bridleway apart from a fast moving mixed flock of Tits, Finches and Chiffchaffs which once again proved tricky to keep tabs on. We had seen a Kingfisher by the cattle pens last week but there was no sign of it this time.
At the first screen the only other inhabitants were our friend Michael who takes some excellent photos on Otmoor and Peter who birds the Moor religiously every weekend, knows more about the birds there than anyone else, and also takes excellent photos. There was little to get excited about bird-wise since the Great Egret and Grey Herons were all stood at the furthest reaches of the lagoon, and the Bitterns that the others had seen had flown back into the reeds, so we caught up on the gossip. We related our tale of twitching the Long-toed Stint near Leeds the day before. Mrs Caley and I sat gazing out on the serenity of Otmoor and my mind considered once more the plight of the fish trapped in the shallow pool who I figured would be looking upwards nervously without feeling any of the calmness at all and probably wondering whether they'd make it through the day and crossing fins in the hope that it would rain like it did on the Saturday the week before. The famous painting, "Three Worlds" by one of my favourite artists, M. C. Escher, which I have a print of taking pride of place in my downstairs cloakroom at home, flickered into mind. In response to an unprovoked attack from the resident Grey Heron, aka the lagoon bully, the Great Egret was put to flight and more quickly than it usually does, but still elegantly, flew towards us before landing on the exposed mud to the left of the screen. The Egret, over three feet tall when stood erect, then decided that it needed even more elevation and climbed the stranded log that lies on the mud and thus "grew" by another six inches. The extra height gained hardly seemed worth it but maybe those few inches was enough to make it look more formidable to the antagonistic Heron.
The Great Egret, really the only source of interest, although a Little Egret was also present and a brace of Marsh Harriers and a Peregrine put in appearances, then pleased us all by flying very closely past the screen before veering away and returning to where it had flown from before. I thought I heard the collective gasp of relieved fish.
Unfortunately for the fish but great for us, it wasn't long before the Great Egret was back. This time it landed right in front of the screen, probably no further than thirty feet away, and looked as if it meant business. Like a firing squad getting ready, the cameras were unholstered and aimed at the now very resolute Egret. The Egret slowly and elegantly picked its way through the shallows on those stilt-like legs and craned its incredibly long neck one way and the other. The neck looks so lightweight that I'm amazed it doesn't break in the wind. I suspect that the movement of the neck allows the Egret to get some binocular vision into the water since, in keeping with most birds that have an eye on each side of the head, most vision must be monocular.
Suddenly the Egret struck, thrusting its head and that formidable beak, violently into the water. It had done this the week before as well but had come up empty billed. This time though it got lucky although this bird has supreme skills so it's hardly luck, more like an extremely well oiled machine doing what it's designed to do.
The hapless Rudd that it caught was less fortunate and later I imagined this; "There I was, minding my own business, swimming along without a care in the world, when suddenly I'm grabbed by this bloody great big pointy thing and pulled out of my world and into one I don't like, not that I was in it long because after a few seconds of hanging above my watery home, I was flipped into the air and sucked into a long dark tube and into a vat of smelly, oily, blackness and that was that. Life sure stinks if you're a fish". A good job then that there are plenty more fish in the (Otmoor) sea.
Both mine and Michaels cameras were set in machine gun mode as the Great Egret pulled the Rudd from the water. The fish hung forlornly in the Egrets bill for maybe ten-seconds or so. It seemed longer and my camera shutter was continually pressed resulting in over sixty frames of essentially the same shot! But of course during that short time the fish was desperately flailing about in a futile effort to break free of the birds grasp. It was hopeless of course, the Rudd now caught was no match for the fish-eating machine that held it.
After that short period of seemingly indecisiveness, the Great Egret, having realised what to do next, suddenly threw the fish into the air to turn it the right way around for swallowing head first, deftly re-caught it and devoured it whole, the bulge of the Rudd clearly visible as it slithered down that long neck. One very content Egret but one now ex-fish. It was amazing to watch the action so closely and in such intricate detail. Fish really don't stand much of a chance against these birds especially when there is so little water in which to swim.
Although we didn't see the Great Egret catch any more fish, we did witness some more interesting behaviour when a trio of Cormorants landed on the lagoon and began diving for their own fishy meals. The Egret instantly put itself in amongst the Cormorants, presumably to catch fish that take evasive measures to evade the Cormorants, which are of course extremely proficient at catching fish themselves. Many a time whilst birding at Farmoor I've seen envious looks from the Trout Anglers, cast (another shameless pun) towards the Cormorants who surface with fish after fish while the Anglers flies go untouched.
The Great Egrets fun was ended by a marauding Marsh Harrier that suddenly appeared from over the reeds, scattering birds of all shapes and sizes this way and that. Marsh Harriers and my camera don't get on well at all and in all my photography life I don't have a really good photo of one. My camera was once again set in under exposed "Egret mode" so I still don't have one. One day maybe my own luck will change and a Marsh Harrier will oblige me. I wouldn't bet on it though.
The Marsh Harriers were harried themselves too, attracting much attention from a party of Jackdaws as well other corvid species. One of the female Harriers came in for a sustained attack from a force of four Jackdaws, one of which even managed to tug at the bigger birds tail. The Marsh Harrier didn't appear to be too bothered though and even glanced back with a look that could have said, "I won't forget that, be careful when you're next on your own!"
The Great Egret returned to the shallows in front of the screen and we armed the cameras again ready for a repeat fishing show but it never came. Instead the Great White fish burglar just lazily stalked through the water and showed no interest in adding another snack. Maybe the decent sized Rudd of earlier had slowed it down somewhat and it knew that it wouldn't be able to catch another. We did get to see the Egret even closer up than before and my lens couldn't fit the whole bird into the frame unless I panned out. These really unrivalled views of a truly beautiful bird.
The Great Egret flew back to the reedy edge, and offered a good size comparison with the attendant Little Egret which by design is restricted to the very shallowest water and why they can usually be found on the weedy scrapes alongside the bridleway rather than out on the lagoon. There appears to be just the one Little Egret on the Moor at the moment in contrast to the dozen or so of just a month ago.
On our way back to the carpark the sun finally put in a sustained appearance as it often does when it's time to go home. We loitered at the Bittern bench and watched a small flock of Lapwing fly back and forth, looking resplendent in the warm sunshine. Soon thousands of Lapwings, along with just as many Golden Plovers, will return to Otmoor to spend the winter foraging on the grasslands.
Our two visits to the Moor on successive Sundays had been entertaining but really, you have to ask, "Who would ever want to be a Fish?!"
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