Free as a bird

While exploring the banks of Loch Leven, Keith finds an abundance of birds that aren’t fazed by the cold weather

There’s a wealth of bird life on the banks of Loch Leven that aren’t fazed by the cold weather.

The cold was as bitter as any I had experienced at Loch Leven, a deep piercing numbness that drew my breath away and which had left much of the water surface covered in ice. This was winter down by the loch and a place where a thousand different survival stories were being played out at the same time.

There was the small group of mallards floating in a little free pool of water near the shore; the dainty teal huddled together on a large floating ice shelf, and the whooper swans in the far distance that had sought refuge in a stretch of open sun-dappled water by St Serf’s Island.

A carrion crow strutted across the ice surface a hundred yards out from the shore – why so, I’ve no idea, for there was surely nothing to eat there – while up in the sky a buzzard wheeled against the snow-speckled backdrop of the Lomond Hills.

But what really caught my eye were two mute swans cruising through an expanse of mini ice floes and cutting in their wake a clear passage through the water. They were like a pair of icebreakers and following close behind was a small procession of tufted ducks and goldeneyes.

These ducks had quickly cottoned-on to the fact that the swans were opening a channel of free water and that this was something that worked to their advantage. Soon the little troupe of swans and ducks had made their way to the edge of the ice shelf and out into the open loch.

I brought my binoculars to bear upon another small area of ice-free water where more ducks had congregated. They were mainly tufted ducks, but in among them were also some pochards, which are most exquisite little ducks. The drakes are so incredibly striking with their chestnut heads, black necks and silvery grey bodies.

Pochards are sociable birds, but always wary of humans and hard to approach close.

In some parts of the country they are known as “douckers” – a name I find appealing, and perhaps I’ll start calling these attractive ducks “douckers” from now on.

Despite the difficult wintery conditions, the sheer abundance of ducks, geese and swans indicated that this was still a good place to be – provided there were at least some gaps in the ice to enable the birds to feed in the shallows.

And where there are plenty of waterfowl, there will be predators too. The most notable of these is the sea eagle, which often haunt these parts in the winter. Sometimes these magnificent birds of prey can be seen resting on the ice out in the loch, but despite careful searching, I couldn’t see any.

I lingered for a while longer and soon a soft breeze descended upon the cold air, causing the broken stretches of ice to tinkle like musical bells. This was nature’s harmony, soft and gentle, and delivering a whisper of promise that with the days now getting longer, spring is on its way.

Pochard, Aythya ferina.