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.  

Gateway to the Nuclear Wasteland?

The government is planning to dump nuclear waste in Cumbria, on the doorstep of the stunning Lake District National Park, and,  perhaps unsurprisingly given this knowledge, Saturday took me up to the town of Bowness in Windermere on the shores of the lake, to demonstrate.

The lake district is a remarkable landscape, its precipitous crags, high rolling hills and still, deep lakes inspiring poets over the centuries. Indeed, their descriptions were such that probably very little more is needed. The point is that Cumbria is remote, and as such, it lends itself all to readily to sites like this. The infamous Sellafield power station sits on the Cumbrian coast,  where it is processes nuclear waste from around the country, and beyond.  Suggestions of releases of radioactive material causing cancer in domestic pets and poisoning the catch of Norwegian fishing boats have never quite been proven but we all know they have been made.

Lake Windermere, Cumbria.

Current plans are to site a nuclear waste dump in West Cumbria, perhaps inside the National park, perhaps outside, the precise site is not clear. Previous surveys and reports have revealed concerns about the Geology of the area. The ideal site for a repository of nuclear waste repository, if such a thing exists, would comprise hard, non-porous rock, in a geologically stable area, under low relief.  West Cumbria was rejected for just such a dump in the late 1990s, at which point our government made advances toward to government of Australia to consider siting said waste there.  Unsurprisingly, their advances were rejected. And so the plan came back to Cumbria.  The rocks of West Cumbria sit about the Lake District Boundary Fault, which has produced tremors in historic time, and historic time isn’t that long in the lifetime of some of the country’s most dangerous nuclear waste.  It is not far from the places in which Britain’s adventures in Fracking shale gas will soon be commencing, the practice which caused such phenomena as burning tap water and earth tremors in the United States, dismissed in Britain as the result of “poor regulation.”  They also lie under some of the subterranean aquifers which provide water for some of the most populous parts of Western Europe- Greater Manchester depends on the Cumbrian hills for its water supply, as does much of the North West.  The Lakes are famous, too, and welcome millions of tourists from far and wide. Some local businesses can be forgiven for their concerns that some of their would-be customers may remain further South for fear of the nuclear waste. 

Dayglo Standards.

Those supporters of nuclear waste dumping in Cumbria, including the few local councillors who declared, much to the surprise of the people they represent, that the communities were “willing” to accept it, claim that “jobs” will be available to the local people, although they are less forthcoming about how many. These will largely be in digging out the holes in which the waste is to be stored, it is unclear whether they have accounted for the personnel needed should there be a serious radioactive accident.  Accidents and near meltdowns are dismissed by the nuclear lobby as something that only happens abroad, where workmanship is inexplicably considered poor, and management even worse. The Fukashima plant in Japan may have been poorly maintained, but what is Japan?  This is the land of the public private partnership, the Ladbroke Grove Rail Disaster and the filthy hospital, the land which would never fail to adequately maintain its vital safety equipment.  If the most technological advanced country in the world cannot safely deal with nuclear power, what is to be said for a country whose engineering record since the 1950s consists mainly of entries in Richard Hammond’s Book of Crap Cars?  The Cumbrian site, which leading geologists say is unsuitable, which was dismissed as unsuitable twelve years ago, will be accepting waste from all over Europe and perhaps beyond.

The problem remains of somewhere to site our domestic nuclear waste, especially following the decision to build a new generation of nuclear power stations as an alternative to coal and gas. I do not have any answers to this problem, but the consensus remains, that Cumbria is not suitable. With that in mind, a few good friends from Lancaster People and Planet gathered on the shore of England’s largest lake, the stunning Windermere, in the heart of the Lake District, and an icon of the country’s natural beauty, with concerned locals, to wave banners and sign petitions, and have a presence to express our profound anxiety pending the conclusion of the public consultation on Friday.  The demo was extremely friendly, a small crowd of fifty or so people from the local community gathered among the pigeons and jackdaws and ice in a beautiful place. Day-Glo flags stood in a row on the jetty, and it was disheartening but appropriate to realise they spelled out the word “Sold” against the backdrop of the Mute Swans and still water, snow-capped hills behind. Banners declared “no nuclear waste facility for the lakes” and beer mats, handed to passers by promoted the demo and declared that the nuclear waste was “for you, for eternity” a play on some marketing strategy used by the National Park Authority.  We signed some petitions and agreed to bring some literature back to Lancaster to make people more aware of what was occurring.

Mallards, Black Headed Gulls, Mute Swan, Feral Pigeon.

There were some hardy souls out , or some dedicated ones, who hung on in the cold for an hour or so. It was good to see some colour and hear some music, in aid the hope it would contribute to the cancellation of this frightening project. They were a good crowd and seemed pleased to meet the Lancaster crowd. After the demo we dispersed a little bit, some of our band making their way to a lovely little cafe up the road in Bowness, while three of us stayed a little while, to look at the bird life (this is, after all, a birdy blog, here comes the birdy bit...) and reflect on the potential impact of the development on this stunning place.  Mute swans and mallards ate out of the hands of demonstrators and tourists.  Further out on the water floated Tufted Ducks, and in the distance, smart Goldeneye, another diving duck, gathered in a flock, their white bodies and cheek patches separating them from the more familiar tufties. A couple of Goosander were about, a female swimming up and down not far from us.  Further out was a bright white drake goosander. This species used to be pretty scarce, perhaps partly as a result of historical persecution by fishery interests, but seems to be in the process of making a comeback. Goosander are big ducks, slightly larger than a mallard, and sit low in the water. Their toothed bills, they are among a sub family of ducks known as sawbills, mark them out as fish-eaters.  Unlike the Mohawk of the co generic Red Breasted Merganser, their crests are thick and give the impression of an oddly shaped head.  Also out there was a familiar bird I hadn’t seen yet this year, a great crested grebe. This common species had somehow evaded me this year and it was nice to see one out here.  I’d always thought of the lakes as something of an avian desert, host to plenty of wildlife, sure, remarkable invertebrates in the woods fringing many of the deeper, oligotrophic waters, and in the sediment of Windermere’s shallows. I’ve always been aware of remarkable fish, ice age relics like the Vendace and Arctic Char which live in the deep, cold waters, but I was under the impression these mesotrophic (like Windermere) and oligotrophic (like most of the others) lakes were of relatively little value for birds; their true wildlife value lying beneath the surface, but here was a good assemblage of species.

Mute Swan

A couple of swans strutted and waved their heads and necks in a courtship dance.  Someone got out a packet of Mini Cheddars, and within seconds, she was covered in pigeons. Handsome, white doves, none other than leucistic feral pigeons, descended in dozens.  The mute swans, clearly very familiar with people, climbed cumbersomely out of the water, and waddled towards us. Black headed gulls took up perches on the railings beside us. We’d watched other people feeding the birds, and then getting intimidated by the pigeons, and I’d always felt a little smug about it. I enjoy watching feral pigeons,  I find their behaviour fascinating and just think they’re very watchable, so I wasn’t adverse to borrowing a mini cheddar myself and crumbling it a little, offering it to a handsome white pigeon. Immediately the bird took up position on my arm. Several others surrounded me, perching on my back, my head, arms, shoulders. They felt very light, their wing feathers, even as they flapped about, very soft, but one of the birds beaks felt quite hard as it pecked me in the face. I didn’t look so smug and handed the Mini Cheddars to someone else, although not before we’d all posed for photos with the pigeons.

The Author With Pigeons.

Leaving the birds and the waterside behind we headed up to the cafe, and for an explore of Windermere and Bowness, and their outdoor shops. It was a great day. We’d stood up for something good, and we’d made friends with some pigeons. A couple of beers and a snowball fight later and we hit the train back to Lancaster.

Edited To Add: Links to petitions on 38 Degrees:

http://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/no-nuclear-dump-in-the-lake-district

http://you.38degrees.org.uk/petitions/stop-plans-for-a-nuclear-dump-in-the-lake-district

And for the benefit of Laura's bird notebook:

Canada Goose (Branta canadensis) Mute Swan (Cygnus olor) Mallard (Anas platyrynchos) Goldeneye (Bucephala clangula) Tufted Duck (Aythya fuligula) Goosander (Mergus merganser) Great Crested Grebe (Poediceps cristatus) Carrion Crow (Corvus corone) Jackdaw (Corvus monedula) Feral Pigeon (Columba livia) Common Gull (Larus canus) Black Headed Gull (Chroicocephalus ridibundus) Cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo) Collared Dove (Streptopelia decaocto)