Tunstall reservoir is a favourite place to visit in March, to look and listen for spring’s progress. Today, a flypast of pied plumage, scarlet beaks and “pic-pic” calls announced the arrival of oystercatchers, returning to breed in larger numbers than I’ve seen in recent years. A heron, feeding in the nature reserve behind the bridge, where Waskerley Beck flows into the reservoir, rose on languid wingbeats and settled in the heronry, in the branches of Norway spruces, where there would already be eggs in nests. Then, from the top branches of an alder, a burst of song from a mistle thrush, another early nester.
So far, so reassuring, but there was something missing: water. Lord knows we’ve had enough rainfall since Christmas; the reservoir ought to be overflowing, not drier than a summer drought. Throughout winter, the water level has been drastically lowered – an essential safety precaution while engineering works are carried out on the 150-year-old dam and spillway. More than half of the reservoir surface is currently sand and bare rock, etched by the meandering beck, carving a path towards the remaining shallow lake close to the dam. Usually, a raucous, swaggering gaggle of greylag geese gather here, swimming in water 10ft deep. Instead, chaffinches are pecking seeds from stranded dry debris, where new green shoots are sprouting.
