The Real Goldeneye

Im a big Bond fan but the real Goldeneye is a true winter treat. A medium-sized black and white duck, it has, as its name suggests, a golden eye that gives it the look of being permanently startled. The male has a dark-green, almost triangular head with a white face patch whereas the  female’s head is dark brown.

You tend to see them here between November and March, but they now breed in Northern Scotland where they make use of nest boxes. Their natural nesting site is normally a hole in a tree and it’s from here, a mere day after hatching, that the young ducklings make a leap of faith from as much as forty feet. After their kamikaze tumble they begin feeding themselves under the watchful eye of mum. 

You can sometimes see them at Dumbarton bridge but I’ve also spotted a few at The River Leven Barrage, near the Vale Angling Club.  

Don’t confuse them with the Tufted Duck which is a little smaller. Annoyingly, the tuft at the back of its head isn’t always that obvious and it has a similarly startled-looking yellow eye. However, they lack the white face patch of the male Goldeneye and the head doesn’t have the same green sheen. 

Both diving ducks, they’re quick to nip under the water, especially if they see a numpty with a camera prowling along the water’s edge. They feed on worms, insect larvae and small fish.  

Here’s a useful link where you can hear the two birds... https://www.birdid.no/bird/eBook.php?specieID=1877&compareSpecieID=1438




Moonstruck

The Yule Moon

The Yule Moon

Should ‘nature on the hoof’ really consider writing  about the moon? Well, I looked it up and the word ‘nature’ refers to ‘the natural, physical, material world or universe’. So, here we go..

Sadly, one of the biggest reasons mankind wanted to get to the moon at all was to gain some advantage in an arms race between two great powers, Russia and America. They both saw it as a very strategic site.

The Americans wanted to detonate a nuclear  device there in the 50’s. This was known as ‘Project A119’, but it was the Russians who got closest first. 

In 1959 the Luna 1 passed within a mere 5995km of the moon’s surface before going on to orbit the Sun. 

Man didn’t get there in person until 1969 when Neil Armstrong uttered those slightly misquoted words, "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." It isn’t properly heard on recordings from the time but Armstrong states he actually said ‘one small step for a man’. Only eleven other men have stood on the moon’s dusty surface since then. Perhaps the next person to set foot there will be a woman. 

The moon, about the size of Australia, was created around the same time as earth, about 4.6 billion years ago.  It’s now thought to be part of our planet, knocked out into orbit after some cataclysmic collision. It has no atmosphere, so you wouldn’t be able to hear any sound unaided up there. It’s also thought to have a molten core like Earth. 

It’s 384,400km away from Earth just now but is actually slipping further away from us by a margin of 3.8cm every year. Over time it may have less of a pull on our oceans and as a result our tides may become less extreme. 

Earth also has a gravitational effect on the moon, causing moonquakes below its surface. These in turn have lead to ruptures and cracks on the moon’s surface. So, in some ways, we are still connected to our brightest satellite. 

We, of course, see the moon differently all the time as sunlight strikes it from afar. It’s a bit like holding someone’s face towards you while you stand on a revolving chair with a strong light blasting from behind. You will only ever see the other person’s face but the amount of light on that face will grow and reduce depending on the angle. We never get to see the dark side of the moon in light or shade.  

The stages of the moon are as follows: new moon - waxing crescent - first quarter - waxing gibbous - full moon - waning gibbous to last quarter to waning crescent. 

I saw the Yule Moon this year with a full rainbow halo. That rainbow effect was caused by ice crystals high up in some wispy cirrus clouds but it gave the moon  a truly mysterious aura. People through time have also looked up in wonder at the moon. 

Full moon fever is often blamed for all sorts of happenings from sleepwalking to unusual behaviour or even people transforming into werewolves... the Roman goddess of the moon, Luna, is said to ride a silver chariot across the sky every night, and the words ‘lunatic’ and ‘lunacy’ both derive from her name. In the 1700’s, if you were tried for murder in England and it happened on a full moon you could plead for a more lenient sentence on the grounds of lunacy...

Full Moon Fever

Full Moon Fever

Some people even think there are aliens on the moon... Even now, in these COVID 19 days, there are all sorts of conspiracy theories out there. One of the most prominent extollers of such beliefs was a man who lived about 160 years ago. A British composer and astronomer, he wrote of complex constructions and stunning cities on the moon. My favourite fantasy on this theme is the movie - ‘First Men on the Moon’. Released in 1964, Lionel Jeffries is brilliant as the nutty professor who finds a giant ant-like colony under the moon surface. 

Many civilisations think that the moon controls fertility. Perhaps as a result of the menstrual cycle matching up in days with the moon’s own cycle. This may explain why many peoples of the past portrayed their moon deity as female. The Greeks had Selene who became Artemis while the Romans had Luna who became Diana. But the link to our moon hasn’t really gone away. It’s importance is still prevalent in some of our current religions. Christians celebrate Easter on the Sunday after the first full moon that follows the  Spring Equinox. The Jewish faith always has the Passover on a full moon - and the Hindu religion has its Festival of Lights, Diwali, on the new moon after the Sun enters Libra.

Many animals and birds are also thought to be influenced by the moon. Apart from the obvious ebb and flow of the tides and their effect on shore life, many birds are said to use the moon for migration. Other animals time their reproduction to coincide with different phases of the moon. Dung beetles have been shown to use polarising moonlight to roll their precious dung balls in straight lines.  

Dung Beetle

Dung Beetle

How about this one to finish up with - a species of Mediterranean plant, The Joint Pine, produces liquid that reflects moonlight to lure insects. It’s been shown that these natural little mirror-balls can increase the uptake of pollen. Ingenious. 

The Thespian of the Reeds

Male in breeding plumage

Male in breeding plumage

One of my favourite birds, the Reed Bunting, can easily be mistaken for a House Sparrow. Personally, I have one of those double take moments where you realise that the plumage is more streaked, colourful and distinctive. Then you pick out a male with its black head and bib, its white neck ring and that pale stripe that slopes down from the  beak. The female is less striking but still  sports the same light-coloured little moustache.

Female in summer

Female in summer

Just to confuse us even more, the male’s black head  becomes paler in winter. This change to a non-breeding plumage is brought on by hormonal changes in the bird triggered by seasonal alterations in weather and day-length.

You can find them around Loch Lomond or by the Clyde and, as the name suggests, they are normally inhabit reed beds or marshy ground. However, as it gets colder, the Reed Buntings will venture into gardens and even onto bird tables. The picture of the  male in winter plumage, perched on some barbed wire, was taken in a field below the Vale Cemetery, Alexandria.

Male in winter plumage

Male in winter plumage

Unlike the House Sparrow, which declined in numbers after the 70’s by about 90%, the Reed Buntings have made a bit of a come back. They’re now on the amber list of endangered birds rather than on the red. 

They have a reputation for putting on a bit of an act at times, especially if a predator comes too near their nest. Like plovers and even snowy owls, they employ an interesting distraction method, feigning injury in an attempt to lure any threat away. 

They were named ‘bird of the year 2009’ in Spain. Down to only 400 pairs over there, their habitat’s had been shrinking due to global increases in temperatures. I also read a news report from Spain that told of a great hail storm destroying nests and even killing some adult birds. The poor wee things don’t seem to have much luck over there but with about 200,000 birds here in the UK, we need to appreciate and perhaps even celebrate this striking little bird. 

The Holly WeArs the Crown

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We all know the song but do we really know that much about the plants themselves? With over 400 species, you can find holly pretty much everywhere but did you know that only the female plant has the red berries? The males and females need to be near each other to pollenate and produce the berries so if you see a bush without berries it could be a male or a female that just isn’t close enough to a male. 

The lower leaves are jaggy to fend off potential  nibblers like sheep or cattle or deer. The higher up the plant you go, the less sharp the leaves need to be. The leaves are enjoyed by some insects like leaf miners but in comparison to most other plants, very few insects can deal with the waxy consistency. 

The berries are eaten by birds like the Mistle thrush and Blackbird but mainly at the end of the winter period when there are less toxins in them. Even then, the birds only take a few at a time. 

Of course, the holly is associated with many myths and legends... Thought to ward off evil and witches, they were brought into homes in winter and even allowed to grow up through existing hedges. This is because witches, who are said to enjoy running over the tops of hedges, would cut their feet on their leaves. It is still thought to be back luck to cut down a holly tree, so caw canny.  

Other myths link holly with the crown of Jesus on the cross and some say that you can even make predictions about who will rule the roost. If the holly brought into the house at Christmas is smooth it is said that the woman of the house will be in charge the following year. If prickly, the man. Mmm...? That seems a bit weighted in favour of us blokes. Might be best to have a bit of both for a harmonious home. 

Some actually think bringing holly inside is bad luck all together but if you do, don’t throw it out until the eve of epiphany (5th of January), then you should be ok. 

The Festive Robin

Keeping an eye on human activity

Keeping an eye on human activity

Christmas, as we know it, was probably concocted by the Victorians. The postmen back then wore red-breasted uniforms and were actually nicknamed ‘robins’. Over time the bird itself appeared on more and more Christmas cards and, in kind of reverse phycology, they came to symbolise the postmen that delivered the cards.  

Robins can withstand cold temperatures and are surprisingly trusting. Their perceived curiosity, however, may actually be a simple drive to find food. 

When the gardener unearths some worms or we throw out those Christmas dinner leftovers, they’re ready and waiting. 

The Vikings associated the bird with the god  Thor. Others said that it got its red breast after being splashed by the blood of Jesus. When I see a Robin, I often think it’s a loved one coming back to say ‘hello’.

An intelligent bird, the Robin has been shown to recognise different people and even distinguish between colours and symbols. 

Sadly, most Robins will only see one Christmas as their average lifespan is just 13 months. 

That festive red breast comes into play when too many relatives get in too small a space...

They begin by having a singing competition and then head for the highest vantage point to show off. 

Immature Robin

Immature Robin

All puffed up, a flash of red will usually end the quarrel there and then, but around 10% will actually take it all the way. This is why young robins only develop the red breast when they are truly ready for the fray. Christmas, eh?

The Lookout

Male Stonechat

Male Stonechat

No, it’s not a Robin or even a type of Thrush, although scientists used to think it was... The Stonechat is now thought to belong to the Flycatcher family. It perches about a meter from the ground staying in one spot for about half a minute before fluttering up to catch some insect.  

The male is striking wee bird with a black head, white collar and russet chest. The female is less striking, switching the black head for a more brown and beige striped affair. 

Female Stonechat

Female Stonechat

As in so many species, the male shows off while the female is built for blending in. This doesn’t happen in every bird species but when it does it’s called plumage dimorphism.

The female below is pictured amongst a clump  of swaying grass on a hogweed seed head. As a wee aside, the hogweed is called Berenklauw by the Dutch which means Bear’s Claw.

The male Stonechat has a high chittering song but both sexes make a characteristic clicking call that sounds like two stones knocking together - hence the name. 

These shots were taken near the coast but you’ll also find them on moorland around here. I’ve seen them many times on Carman Hill in spring and summer. They nest between March and July but not every brood makes it. Breeding failure is often down to predation or even heavy rainfall.  

interestingly, other birds, like Meadow pipits will stay close to Stonechats when feeding. Excellent lookouts, they’re good at spotting  predators and sounding the alarm...



Ravens of the Sea

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One of most iconic birds, the cormorant, is surrounded by myths and legends. In the Greek story of Ulysses a cormorant saves the hero after a great storm by giving him a ‘life jacket’... In Norway cormorants flying together signify a message from the dead. Even now, the bird is seen  as a good luck talisman for fishermen. In China they actually train them to fish, tethering the bird by its throat so it can’t swallow its catch. 

Thankfully, here you’re more likely to see a cormorant flying fast and low over water. Or perhaps standing on a rock by the shore, it’s wings outstretched. 

Surface divers with wings that are designed to become waterlogged, they can go as deep as 150 feet. 

After a fishing session they will open them out to dry, facing into the wind to get maximum benefit. With a small wingspan for their body length the need to work hard to keep airborne.

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Their name comes from two Latin words, corvus  and marinus meaning ‘Raven of the sea’. Strangely, they share a habit with owls. They regurgitate pellets made of the compressed bones and skin of their prey. In the case of cormorants that can be fish, eels or even sea snakes. 

I don’t think you’ll find many sea snakes in West Dumbartonshire, but you’ll see  Cormorants on most stretches of water, from the Clyde to Loch Lomond and even on some of our reservoirs. 



Ferns - Are They Really a Menace?

Bracken dying back in winter…

Bracken dying back in winter…

So, of all the local plants that were kicking about when the dinosaurs walked this piece of the planet, one of the most interesting is the fern... And there quite a few varieties in and about West Dunbartonshire ranging from the ubiquitous bracken up on the hills, that’s already turned brittle and brown, to the more delicate ground-dwelling lady fern, still evergreen in the shade of the woods. 

This all sounds very lush and romantic,  so why should we be worried about ferns? Well, after racing through the bracken as a kid for years and even  using the fronds as pretend swords and spears it turns out that their spores can be carcinogenic. Bracken especially, has been shown to alter human DNA, and not in good way. (British Journal of Cancer 2000)

One frond of bracken can release 300 million spores.

So, what are we to think? Do we stay inside and hold our breath in a world already rampant with restrictions?  

Personally, I’ll avoid walking through bracken at certain times of the year. 

The Autumn is ‘spore time’ so we’re probably over the worst by now. Apart from breathing in those bracken spores there is concern that large quantities may end up in our water supplies or even in our food.

I began this article expecting to praise this complex and beautiful plant, but I’m not so sure now... stepping back a bit, it provides a habitat for pollinating insects and for beautiful birds like meadow pipits and yellowhammers...

Yellowhammer or Scotch Canary

Yellowhammer or Scotch Canary

Lady Fern

Lady Fern