Haweswater, no birds, but what a landscape (plus a footnote on the neonic ban)

I spent yesterday tramping across the mud and rock of the Eastern Lake District in search of England’s only Golden Eagle, who makes his home, we are told, in  the Lakeland Valley which contains the Haweswater reservoir. It was wet, and the precipitous scenery rugged beneath the grey sky and broken cloud. Moss and lichen grew in profusion over dry stone walls and on the trunks of the stunted and miniature oaks which dotted the landscape.  The lake lies in a high valley to the East of Windermere.  Beside it sat a couple of female Goosander, a smart, fish-eating duck, and on a tree covered island, a colony of noisy lesser black backed gulls, unusual so far from the coast, had set up their nest sites.

There were clusters of trees, plantations, of Pine and Larch, and a fallen specimen of the latter, in the light woodland, where the sun could penetrate through the bare branches of the deciduous conifers, the most luxuriant tree beard mosses, really lichens, grew abundantly, alongside several true mosses, and the strange pink flowers and soft, pastel-green new growth needles of the still living, horizontal conifers. Beside the larches stood a stand of Scots pine, and these presented a very different woodland, dark, the trees placed in rows, strangely quiet and foreboding. The woods, which helped hold the soil to the hillside and offer a little shelter to walks in the valley, were of course planted, for human use, but add a little diversity to the landscape. The RSPB web site announced they contain Redstarts and even Red squirrels. My friends and I saw a Chaffinch and a Goldcrest and were happy about it. I suspect the Red Squirrels, holding on because the stunted growth and conifer plantations cannot sustain the invasive Greys, and the latter, which only arrive in late April, may still be suffering from migratory setbacks induced by the continuing cold weather of the last few weeks.

In the rain it was a far cry from the previous weekend when we had set off to Leighton Moss, with our hangovers, and seen Osprey, Buzzard and Marsh Harrier on the same day, over the open reed beds in the sunshine an unusual break in the usual grey weather.  We were so lucky that day with all the birds we saw, and at Haweswater we were reminded that you don’t win them all. But what a place, nevertheless.  We found a high place, and ate our lunch while a few buzzards continued to soar about, sometimes generating undue excitement, as perspective distorted our perception of perhaps large buzzards seen head on. At least one Raven flew over us, and meadow pipits, in what looked a nonsensically unequal struggle, mobbed a buzzard incessantly as he crossed the valley, ducking into and landing among some pine trees where he could avoid the annoyance of the relatively tiny, more agile, and apparently mocking passerines.  Meadow Pipits were everywhere, and there were plenty of Wheatears about. The Wheatears’ name is famously a contraction of “white arse” a historic name dropped in Victorian times when it was thought vulgar. Inevitably we delighted in calling them white arses all day. The wheatear is a smart little passerine, with a uniform back, grey in the male and brown in the female, with a little dark ‘bandit’ mask on his face, a black tail, and of course a white rump, conspicuous in flight. It too is a migrant, arriving from Africa to the heaths and moors of Northern Europe.

We pressed on a little, trudging through the mud and mosses, past an abandoned sheep fold, as far as the RSPB viewpoint, but we saw no eagle. Grey mountains and scree slopes towered above us, with tiny oaks clinging to them, seeming to pinch the sky. If Dungeness and Elmley Marshes in the South of England can be called Big Sky RSPB reserves, Haweswater has a small sky, hemmed in by steep, dark mountains. A herd of Red Deer grazed on a hillside. A couple more meadow pipits chirped overhead.  I pressed on a little alone in the hope of catching up with our eagle, and walked through the stands of dead Purple Moor Grass until I reached the RSPB viewpoint, checked out a little more valley, and trudged guiltily through a sphagnum bog. We began to loose the light so I headed back to the crowd, and glanced around for a dipper on a mountain stream. Bird wise this place was incredibly quiet. The continuing, driving rain was doing little to help, and we decided it was time to head back, keeping an eye out as we returned to the vehicle.

We saw no Eagle but what a landscape!

As a footnote to this blog post I think I should at least refer to the recent ban on the use of neonicotinoid pesticides on bee attracting crops, which, thankfully, and not a moment too soon, emerged from the EU at the weekend.  It is wonderful news, and I am heartily relieved that our money-minded government, with their short term thinking were not able to overwhelm the scientific consensus that neonicotinoid pesticides have profound sub lethal effects on bees.  It will not solve the problem, and halt the decline of bees, there are other sources of pollution, as well as land use change, the effect of which on species is seldom instant and according to recent scientific literature it may take decades for land use change to have its knock on effects on species, workers suggesting there may be an extinction debt for lowland grassland butterflies in at least some EU member states.  The detractors of the neonicotinoid ban will continue to point to this as reason to allow them to continue using these pesticides, which affect the navigational abilities and reproduction of bees. The fact remains that the burden of proof falls, all to often, unduly upon our wildlife, and there is simply not time for more work. We need to take action to stem the decline. The costs of losing our pollinators could be massive, economic and human, as well as ecological, given our reliance on so many insect pollinated crops. We are already seeing parallel declines in Pollinator diversity and plant diversity in England and Holland.   I am grateful to all those who campaigned long and hard for this new legislation, and the agricultural community should be too, pollinators are vital to their long term well being and ours. The Neonic ban may not go far enough but it is a great step in the right direction.