After weeks of heavy rain, Cheddar reservoir in Somerset is finally full again – of water, and of birds. Thousands of coots, hundreds of gulls and ducks, and dozens of great crested grebes crowd the surface, some already moulting into their smart breeding plumage, crests and all.
They feed almost constantly, building up energy reserves for the breeding season. Among the throng are some less familiar visitors: a flock of scaup, the males bulkier than the nearby tufted ducks, with pale grey backs that catch the light. Flocks of goosanders dive frequently for food, the colourful males looking like a cormorant in extravagant drag.
As I circle the reservoir’s perimeter, I’m on the lookout for a very special bird. The red-necked grebe – the scarcest member of its family in Britain – is easily overlooked, superficially resembling a smaller, darker great crested grebe. I experience many false alarms. Several times I think I’ve found it, only for the bird to turn and reveal a bright white neck.
Just as I’m about to head home, the red-necked grebe surfaces just offshore, showing off its dark face and neck and a yellow base to the bill, to reveal its true identity. Or does it? Later that day, a friend sends me photos suggesting the bird might belong to the American race, which could one day be split into a species separate from its European cousin.
Either way, I’m content simply to watch this attractive and unexpected visitor so close to home.
