River

I’m walking along a river bank, having just passed through a group of about thirty school children and their teachers out on a hike. As I walk away from them I hear one of the teachers shout out, “has anyone spotted any wildlife?” The reply came back, “yeah, a fish!” Fair enough I thought, they are standing on a bridge over a river after all.

I continued my walk for a little way and then paused at the water’s edge. I scanned the surface and both banks for anything interesting. A movement caught my eye and there they were, Damselflies, or Banded Demoiselle to be precise. The males of this species are particularly striking, having a dark blue black spot on each wing. Their body is also a dark glossy blue. They were mostly at rest on the reeds that lined each riverbank. At least until a rather drab (comparatively) female went by. Then several males would fly up and begin to chase her up and down the river.

While I’d been watching this little courtship ritual play out, I was broken out of my reverie by chattering and laughter, as I hadn’t noticed that the school party was heading my way. I turned and carried on walking. I’m more of a potterer than a walker though, so they soon began to overtake me. As three schoolgirls drew up alongside me one of them greeted me with a cheery, “hello!” After returning the greeting I asked if they were out on a wildlife walk. “Sort of,” came the reply. Have you seen anything I asked? “A fish,” she said. At this point I half felt that I would regret taking the conversation any further, but decided to anyway and asked if they’d seen the Banded Demoiselle. “No!” came the rather emphatic reply, followed by an equally cheery, “goodbye”.

The school party gradually drew ahead of me as I carried on with my slow stroll along the bank; while continuing to scan the water and each bank as I went. As I did so my mind drifted to everything else I’d seen or experienced along this short stretch of river over the years. Things like:

A frosty February morning while walking my dog Jack, I spotted something swimming ahead of me. Too big to be a water vole I realised it was an Otter, which promptly turned into the bank and disappeared into a tangle of branches and dead vegetation. As I drew closer to the spot I could hear what at first I thought was some type of bird I’d never heard before, but then realised that it was probably a litter of Otter cubs greeting their mother returning from a morning’s fishing.

A summer afternoon, hearing a soft, “Peep” and, turning to locate the sound, seeing a flash of blue disappearing upstream. Which is about as much as anybody sees of a Kingfisher.

A sunny, windless spring day when I was lucky enough to catch a Mayfly emergence. Witnessing the mating dance of, literally thousands, of these ephemeral insects is something that many people never experience. They have no mouthparts and so cannot feed, as they have only one task, to mate and lay the eggs that produce the next generation. All over in one day, their corpses providing food for those creatures higher up the food chain.

Rounding a bend and witnessing, on a few occasions, the great steel grey shape of a Heron lifting off the water. Also, one time, a White Egret. Both birds surprising me that, for their size, they could execute a quite graceful vertical take off.

…………………………….

Back to my current walk, and I realise that I’m catching up with the school party, as they’ve stopped to rehydrate again. A few metres from them I pause my walk and study the water again. This time a dragonfly is coursing the rivers edges, no doubt looking for a meal. However, several of the Banded Demoiselle had decided that it wasn’t welcome. What followed was the equivalent of a World War Two dogfight. With the Dragonfly as the bomber, being strafed by Damselflies. Both species being fairly equal in flying ability, this proved pretty entertaining for several minutes.

I toyed, briefly, with the idea of calling over one of the teachers to check if any of the children might be interested, but when I looked up they were all heading off again.