The recently relined pond is looking barren. I’ve replaced the rampant yellow flag irises and marsh marigolds with less invasive species of vegetation, but the immature plants are dotted like islands across an expanse of black butyl liner. Despite their propensity to migrate back to their natal pond, I was concerned that the smooth newts (Lissotriton vulgaris) would abandon this aquatic desert for a more verdant breeding site. Happily, they were undeterred. A few days after I refilled the pond, I spotted two males lazing in the shallows, and by the following evening, they’d been joined by another male and two gravid (pregnant) females.
Previously, any pockets of open water were blanketed in frogbit, the miniature waterlily-like leaves obscuring my view of life in the depths. The only indicators of the newts’ presence were rising air bubbles or the occasional glimpse of a tail breaking the surface. They’re still hiding in crevices or free-floating clumps of hornwort during the day, but now, as the light fades, they emerge into open water, which has allowed me to witness the males’ captivating belly-flashing, tail-fanning courtship displays for the first time, and also to gain an insight into the species’ feeding ecology.
I knew that smooth newts fed on freshwater snails but had always wondered how they managed to breach the armoured shells. One morning, I noticed that the largest of our great pond snails (Lymnaea stagnalis) – a distinctive individual that I often spot grazing on a semi-submerged, algae-slicked boulder – had an injured mantle and shell aperture.
Presuming that it had survived a bird attack, I thought no more of it – until dusk, when I spotted a robust 10cm-long female newt lurking in the snail’s vicinity. Darting forward, the newt clamped her jaws around the snail’s soft body and vigorously shook it. Newts swallow their prey whole and have blunt vomerine teeth, designed for grasping rather than tearing or chewing, so although it was reminiscent of the “kill shake” displayed by dogs and wolves, the newt was actually trying to dislodge the mollusc from its shell rather than dispatch it. But her eyes were bigger than her stomach and, realising her error of judgment, she released her hapless victim.
• Country diary is on Twitter at @gdncountrydiary
