Weedon’s World
Mike admits there are times when mammals trump birds!
Mike admits there are times when mammals trump birds!
Our birds make the sweetest sounds and are often startlingly pretty, obvious, abundant and diverse. As such, they are almost the opposite of our mammals. The latter are low in diversity, hard to see (and often nocturnal), almost always dull brown or grey, and at best make nasty grunts, squeaks and barks. But, paradoxically, mammals are among the most charismatic animals in the British fauna.
And surely none is as charming and special as the Otter. They are so good-looking, playful, expressive, impressive and simply magnificent.
I was well into my 40s before I saw one of these loveliest of mammals in the UK for the first time. That was in Scotland, where Otters are mostly seen on weedy, rocky, coastal shores. I’ve seen them in this habitat on the Scottish west coast, on Skye and Mull, on the Black Isle, and on Shetland. But they are a mammal on the rise across the rest of the country, and I have watched many more in recent years, on the waterways of north Cambridgeshire and south Lincolnshire.
Twice I have seen them during spring Big Days (aka bird races), where they act as mood lifters and motivators, but of course don’t count as an extra species for ‘The List’! But, more often, I have watched family parties and singletons fishing rivers and lakes around Peterborough, while out on my regular birding trips.
Indeed, the population of Otters in these parts has become so prolific that some formerly decent, lake-filled birding sites which (ahem), needed a sneaky, discreet entrance from the (shh!) low profile birdwatcher, have been surrounded by hideous, tall, galvanised ‘Otter fences’, and are now certainly out of bounds for non-paying humans.
One Peterborough site which has been visited by Otters for a while, now, is Ferry Meadows Country Park, which comprises three lakes in a meander of the River Nene (plus various parkland habitats, woodland and so on). I still remember as clearly as if it was yesterday, when my friend Brian Stone called me at work, one stormy afternoon in August 2004, to say he was looking at an Otter on one of the two larger lakes there. It seemed like a dream at the time, a very far-fetched one, at that! Brian had picked it up while scanning the lake, and Blackheaded Gulls were circling it and pestering it, as it made its determined way across the lake.
But times have moved on, and in the last two or three years, and particularly the last year, Otters have become an established part of the Ferry Meadows scene. This is despite the lakes being heavily fished (by people that is) and dog-walking (usually off-lead) completely dominating leisure activities in the country park. Last year, a family of three young Otters and their mother would be seen almost daily by all sorts of visitors, from fishermen and dog-walkers, to families and birdwatchers. And just after Christmas, we four Weedons took a walk down to the park and, pausing at the little suspension bridge over the river, were delighted when an Otter emerged almost under us, powering against the fast current, to have a leisurely look at its admirers above.
In late January, inspired by a couple of reports of Otter, I cycled down Ferry Meadows way at lunchtime (it is only a mile or so from the BW office). Just like that moment more than 15 years ago, Black-headed Gulls betrayed a swimming Otter near the shore on Gun-wade Lake. I was able to watch it, fleetingly, for a bit, but it vanished under the overhanging bushes and trees. The next lunchtime, I was back, but the Otter was not around the same area. After a wait, I gave up and cycled down the track beside the lake. As I approached an area where the shore is tree-lined and rocky, I noticed a small group of people standing, staring and holding up their phones.
On this occasion phone-wielding people were the Black-headed Gull equivalents, pointing me to the most beautiful Otter, literally a few metres away from our path, consuming the remaining half of an enormous eel. I was not the only one suckered by the charms of this most confiding of individuals; every passer-by was similarly drawn-in, drooling, open-mouthed, jaw-dropped by the wonderful, eel-munching mustelid.
What a bird! Er… mammal!
Mike Weedon is a lover of all wildlife, a local bird ‘year lister’, and a keen photographer, around his home city of Peterborough, where he lives with his wife, Jo, and children, Jasmine and Eddie. You can see his photos at weedworld.blogspot.com
PHONE-WIELDING PEOPLE WERE LIKE BLACK-HEADED GULLS