March 20, Castleshaw Reservoirs, Delph. Wading
birds are an unfailingly interesting and handsome group, often having loud and
distinctive calls. After three days of greyness and torrential rain the
Castleshaw site seemed a wonderful place to be as the afternoon sun shone and
the severe wind-chill was lessened here and there by the stone walls.
From the far side of the lower reservoir, past where a lone
Cormorant bobbed in the wind, came a clear and echoing call. Even at a
distance, a Redshank was sensitive to disturbance. Inspection showed a pair of
them, their plumage grey-brown but the orange-red legs glowing as if
illuminated from within.
 |
| Curlew |
Having walked to the upper reservoir, I could make out yet
another pair of birds hunkered down in the rocks at the water’s edge. The
plumage was a soft brown, the only possible clue to their identity being the
legs, which appeared green. Further along the road I could see two
bird-watchers, one on a bike. I hurried along to seek help in identifying the
birds and noticed that the walking bird-watcher was sporting a pair of
binoculars that would cover the cost of a decent second-hand car. I wondered
whether I should conceal my own, obtained from the well-known supplier of
optical instruments saved from and landfill.
Bicycle-man pedals back to the observation point. ‘I only
bring the cheap binoculars on the bike -can’t see much with these,’ he tuts
apologetically. Posh-binocular bloke approaches in a relaxed an unhurried
manner, raising his superior optics. ‘No problem with that. Blue legs –
Curlew.’ ‘What we need now is the call, I contribute. The birds flap into the
air with a stirring cry. ‘Right on cue,’ says Posh-binocular bloke. The Curlews
bank away against a blue, white and grey sky straight from one of John
Constable’s sky sketch books.
First published in March 2017
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