lapwing
Stories
The first ‘story’ of an new addition to my website has just been completed. It’s about my favourite bird, the Lapwing or Peewit. Possibly, the greatest breeding population in the UK resides just a stone’s throw from where I live, which, over the last 10 years, has afforded me the opportunity of recording their life history. The story section differs from my ‘collections’ in that they tell a story (no surprise there then!) with extended captions. Click here to go straight there. More stories will follow which I will let you know about as and when they are added.
Males defending their territories at sunrise. Nikon D300, 300mm f2.8, 1/1250th sec. f5.6, iso 200.
Female incubating. Hatching occurs after approximately 28 days which gave me sufficient time to 'very' gradually introduce a dummy camera housing. This was introduced over a 2 week period starting from a point, 50m away from the nest then moved forward, at intervals. It was then replaced with a sound-proof housing containing a Nikon D300 and 12-24mm lens. The camera was fired via radio remote from my car, 100m away.
Four-legged lapwing!
Keeping it small
There’s a lot to be said for keeping the subject small. It can say so much more about the species, in this case a lapwing, than a frame filling portrait. But, and it’s a big but, the landscape surrounding it has to be either photogenic or informative or, both. The lighting played an enormous part when, due to the misty sunrise, the landscape was kept simple and shapes softly defined except for the lapwing caught in light. Imagine the same scene taken in the middle of the day when the orange glow would have disappeared and in its place, green!
No pictures but what a morning
I entered my 3′ sq. hide on the marshes this morning in the hope of photographing a barn owl I have been observing hunting over rough grazing marsh. Rather than obligingly hovering in front of me, it decided to perch on a cattle fence post so far to my left that all I could do was watch from the side peep-hole. It sat there for about 10 minutes then flew off into the distance where it remained for the next hour before heading to roost for the day. I packed up and decided to reposition the hide a little further up the bank. As I did so, I heard a loud splashing sound coming from a flooded area bordering long grass some 20 meters away. It was a hare and it swam a full 2 meters or so to the other side. That was a first for me. Hare’s are renowned for taking the long way round rather than jumping or digging underneath, so rarer still to see one actually getting wet!
Once my gear was packed in the car I headed across the marsh to see if anything was happening. Of course it was, it’s April! Lapwing’s here have already began nesting with many pairs on eggs. I could see quite a few taking to the air, displaying or warning off others from their territory, including pheasants and marsh harriers
Lapwing displaying. 2009.
Lapwing calling during courtship display. 2009. Nikon D300, 300mm f2.8 with 1.4x tele-converter, iso 560, 1/3200 sec. f5.6.
I stopped a few meters from a reedbed and could hear the chattering call of a reed warbler. My first of the year. After a while I drove a little further on, following the reedbed and again stopped. Through binoculars I could see a pair of reed buntings, clinging to the stems, momentarily pulled down with their weight then springing straight up again. The males are unmistakable with their striking black head and bib and long tail, flashing white and black when fanned. Just beyond them, a sedge warbler did the same. Spring had certainly arrived with both the sedge and reed warbler arriving from Africa. I then turned my attention to more distant birds. Yesterday I saw my first garganey of the year and looked for more but no luck on that front. But, a few hundred meters away I could see a marsh harrier, nothing unusual in these parts, but this one was carrying nest material, reed stems by the look of things, and then dropped into a dense reedbed. I’ll keep my eye on this pair over the coming weeks and hope that they go on to nest.
I drove back across the marsh, very content indeed, spotting little egrets, coots carrying nest material and hares crossing the track. No yellow wagtails yet, but there is always tomorrow.
Birds and hares
Readers of this blog will know that for the last 5 months I have been regularly feeding birds at a feeding station a few miles away from where I live. On the edge of the field are a number of old hazel trees that hang low and heavy with catkins. There’s only a window of a week at the most, after which they start to turn brown so everything needs to be crossed in the hope of getting good weather! I got lucky and spent several enjoyable mornings in my hide photographing the birds as they perched a few metres away prior to coming down to the feeders. Aside from the usual suspects in the form of blue, great, coal and marsh tits, the star of the show turned up on a number of occasions, being the goldfinch.
A very early start was needed since the site was in shadow after 12 so I would be there half an hour or so after sunrise when the light was just gorgeous and the birds more active than later on. Ordinarily, I would use a semi-permanent wooden hide, they are warmer and don’t flap around, but for this I used a dome hide from WWS which can be moved around the site as the light changes. They are so light that they most certainly need pegging down! They are great for the job though.
Goldfinch. Nikon D300, 300mm f2.8, iso 400, 1/800 sec f4.
The North Kent Marshes are steadily coming alive with the wonderful displays of lapwing, just as the many ducks and waders head north to their breeding grounds.
Marsh sunrise
On just one of several mornings spent looking for boxing hares, where there was quite a bit of chasing and boxing, I came across this individual who happened to pose close and long enough for me to grab a couple of shots. The light could have been better but you take what you can get when they stand up like this.
The light was extremely flat on this particular morning but there was so much chasing going on that it was great just to be there, watching. I followed this individual through my lens as it moved across the flooded marsh, avoiding as much as it could, having to jump over the water. I liked the connection between it and wetland and waited until it was in silhouette. Producing it as a black and white panoramic image simplified the composition further.
About Robert Canis
Robert Canis is a professional photographer specialising in the natural world.
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