I had no expectations of seeing any wonderful wildlife at either of the bridges, but watching the river is good for the soul so I went first to the new bridge – the really new shiny one, not the one called Pont Newydd (New Bridge) – that’s the old one.
I found my spot under the bridge and set up the tripod and camera. There are Dippers here but their nest was demolished with the previous bridge. Another regular is the Grey Wagtail, and Goosanders are fairly frequent visitors. I have seen squirrels, voles, mink and even an otter once. Today all was still. A robin sang briefly somewhere above me, but otherwise nothing moved but the water – until a white shape appeared upstream, hidden amongst the overhanging branches. It was a male Goosander. I had seen them here before but this time I was prepared, focussed on the bit of open water where it would appear. Instead, a female appeared closer to me. First rule of this game: expect the unexpected. I knew when she saw me she would take off and I had not yet, on many previous visits, succeeded in capturing that moment. Goosanders are one of my favourite birds. they are beautiful, sleek but slightly zany with that punky hair-style. Here she is, right in front of me, and true to form she takes off down river, the male following.
Good enough! I packed up and set off on my bike for Pont Newydd 2 kilometers downstream. Here I am under old dripping stone work decorated with little stalactites.
I set up again and focus upstream to where the little Nant Ogwrn flows into the Towy. This is a favourite spot for Dippers and Grey Wagtails and I have occasionally seen Goosanders here. How long does a duck take to float 1.5 miles? A little longer than it takes me to cycle and set up it seems, because here they are again, but with company this time.
The other two look female. They all make a beeline for the outflow from the little stream, and seem to enjoy scooting along with their beaks just below the surface looking for little creatures – larvae and small crustaceans – in the rushing water. They dive for their main food – small fish which they catch in the characteristic “saw teeth” which they share with their sea-going cousins Mergansers. After a while they tire of this and the male and one of the females decide to explore further, moving steadily towards me.
I want to be one of them, to blend with the surroundings so that they see me, but don’t feel threatened. They are very close now and the female turns towards me, uncertain.
As a precaution she paddles fast upstream and briefly takes off, but after a few metres decides she’s not really bothered and settles back in the water. The male meanwhile faces me in challenge. I remain absolutely still, my face hidden behind the camera, my clothes dull. After a few minutes he relaxes, turns and moves in a leisurely fashion upstream. I am thrilled: I’ve done it!
I was planning to move off, but they seem very comfortable in their chosen place, preening and resting. Eventually they move off upstream and I can move again.
I have briefly been part of the lives of this group of wild creatures and my day is made.
