Riverside commute

One of the aspects of living where we do that I really appreciate is our proximity to the river. In order to get to the train station (or into town at all) I have to walk along the river bank for about half a mile. This particular bit of river is, for half of its length, a channel off the main river, which has a weir and a lock at the point the channel forks away. A really very big weir, as it happens, but anyway, I digress. The other bank of the spur has a path which crosses over the top of the weir towards the lock, and there's a bridge across the channel at the near end of the spur (furthest away from the main channel). Just by the bridge, on the edge of the water, on my side of the channel, a pair of swans have nested, the female has been on her nest for a long time now, and we'll call her Swan 1. On the other side of the channel, most of the way along, nearly to the main channel, another pair of swans have nested. The female's nest is protected from the people and dogs on the path by plywood boards on three sides (the clear side is the river side, unsurprisngly). We'll call her Swan 2, and she has to put up with well-intentioned people dumping bags filled with stale chunks of bread on her head.

Swan 1 and Swan 2 have been busily tending their eggs and nests for at least a month now (and their incubation period is 34-38 days, so they must be just on the edge of hatching). They seem to be constantly adding material to their nests -- Swan 1's nest is about double the size it was a month ago, and about a metre further from the water's edge. And every so often, they turn their eggs, and if you're really lucky you might catch them doing it. Both Swans have 7 eggs each (the eggs are huge, but I still can't figure out how birds as big as Cygnets can actually fit in there...), I know because I counted.

[Swan 1 turning its eggs]

Watching the young water-bird families has been wonderful -- it isn't just the swans we've got. We've had two Coot's nests (the babies are squealing diving things), plus a pair of Great Crested Grebes, which are just as cool as they sound -- low-slung diving birds, low in the water, sharp-looking beaks, pointy crests on their heads -- who carry their young around on their backs while they're very little, so you see a Grebe (all black, white and deep copper) with three tiny little inquisitive black-and-white-striped heads poking out above the wings.

And there they stay until they're big enough to swim, and even then one or two will take a break on a parents back until they really are too big to fit (and you see them trying to get back on, then falling off, even then).

There haven't been any ducklings this side of Reading bridge, just lots of agitated girl ducks being chased around by randy boy ducks. I wish I had a decent digital camera to capture some of this. It really has felt like a little slice of David Attenborough-style nature documentary played out around us.

• 24.5.2004, 6.55
• File under: river, Reading, Thames, commuting, spring, water fowl, swans, Great Crested Grebes