Loneliness of the long-wait Lapwing

Dunstall Park

Wednesday 22nd May 2013, cold northerly wind, dull.

It's bitter for the time of year, and the dearth of birds at the racecourse lake is a true reflection of one of the coldest springs ever recorded.  Some species are now sadly marked only by their absence:  the Mute Swan pair have left, the long-staying Gadwall are gone, and the Little Grebe pair have provided neither sight nor sound for around 10 days.  If they're nesting they're keeping their heads down, but I rather think they've quit the site.  Two of three Coot chicks are still being fed by adults, Canada Goose goslings number ten in total (three broods have now hatched), but there's no sign of any Mallard youngsters.  All in all a sorry state of affairs . . . but then a familiar shape on the island shows that hope can spring eternal.  A single Northern Lapwing stands bravely against the wind, half-sheltered by low vegetation, in a spring vigil that its species has kept here for the last ten years.  Lapwings first appeared at the lake only months after its creation late in 1993, and wintering flocks have visited the site annually ever since.  Numbers have fluctuated, but totals of c.500 and c.600 were noted in February of 2000 and 2002, and display flying in April and May was seen as early as 1998.  It seemed only a matter of time before breeding was attempted, and sure enough in 2002 two pairs nested, with one set of youngsters successfully fledging.  Since then at least one pair has bred annually, but success has eluded them since 2007.  Even so, birds have still turned up in late March and early April, waiting for a mate to appear, so although very late, this one is at least keeping the breeding tradition going.  Perhaps the same bird appeared briefly last month at the lake in one of the few warm breaks in the weather, but with June now fast approaching,  hopes of it pairing and nesting are fading fast. The racecourse operators always keep a 20-metre strip unmown near the lake to encourage the birds to nest, so it's fingers crossed all round.  At least ten House Martin are hawking over the lake, harsh calls from treetops at the canalside oak copse on the western edge of the site suggest young Rooks are being fed at their nests, and to the north a single Common Buzzard hovers Kestrel-like against the wind as it scans the grass slopes by the railway carriageworks for anything that moves.  With things the way they are, I wish it luck . . .           

NB.  Dunstall Park is a restricted commercial site.  Access is strictly controlled.