Identifying my bit of the Leeds to Liverpool Canal
On a short stretch of
canal, five minutes from my new home, I, at the ripe young age of 58,
discovered birds. I did know of their
existence before, in a sort of half interested, 'I know you’re out there',
abstract sort of way, but I never did get the hang of binoculars, or the
patience to persevere. Tiny birds
flitting through trees were…. whoosh…. gone, long before I managed to
focus. All that changed in October 2009,
when I discovered digital photography. The two discoveries became one absorbing
fascination that will take me comfortably through my remaining decades.
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| 5 Rise Locks at Bingley West Yorkshire Photography by annmackiemiller |
We start just outside Bingley at the 5 Rise
Locks, which are just what they say, a series of 5 connecting locks designed to
lift (or lower) canal barges up the steep gradients that are typical of
Yorkshire. The tow path runs along the
south bank of the canal, passing first a field with cows, then houses. There are generally quite a few birds along here especially since they have upgraded the area around the 5 rise to encourage visitors. They have provided a lively picnic area birds love - never mind visitors.
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| field at 5 rise locks |
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| Barges moored along the first stretch of canal |
We carry on passed brightly coloured canal
boats moored on the north bank. Then we
pass the boat repair yard, regular haunt of a pair of breeding swans, and the
Airedale Canal Club with its outdoor barbeque which reminds me of a cook-house
in Africa .
Most days, the canal dazzles, reflecting the green of growth bounding
it, the vivid colour of the barges and the changing blue and grey of the
sky. In gentle curves, it leads you on
to the next bend, and then the next, just to see what lies beyond.
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| Mute swan called the boat yard home |
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| Open air cooking at the Airedale Canal Club |
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| Greenhill |
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| Greenhill and our Embden geese |
That brings us to a swing bridge across the canal at
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| Swing Bridge at Micklethwaite Wharf |
Close by the north bank is the old bridge house then an old mill which has been converted to flats. Out on decks and patios lucky owners sit and watch life on the canal. The geese often provide grass cropping services though I'm not sure how welcome that is to some.
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| Canada Geese provide grass cropping services for the mill flats |
Older houses run along the south, but the ground slopes down away from the canal and they are not intrusive. Then, reed beds with yellow irises contentedly rooted in the water. Along the edges of the path are high hedgerows and trees, home to a multitude of said flitting birds, and that brings us all the way to the next swing bridge at Lingfield Wharf. It is about a mile long, certainly not more than two, yet this small space represents a complete universe.
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| Beyond the swing bridge |
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| Smudge the duck likes the water lilies |
It started off
innocently enough that October: I thought the canal would provide somewhere for
me to practice when I had started an introductory course in digital photography
at my local college. From that
introduction I became so interested that I went on to join a level 1 NCFE
course. For this we were required to
produce a number of photographs both for on-going weekly exercises and for a
portfolio. October is perhaps not the
best time of year to be thinking of taking up outside photography, but I was in
for a joyful surprise. One or two short
visits to the canal, watching the lives of the birds there, sharing the space
with cyclists who cycled, joggers who jogged, dogs that… well you all know what
dogs do – and also sharing the tow path with their walkers blithely swinging
black plastic bags filled with said doings of said dogs. Through the lens of my camera I found myself
sharing their time and their lives, including, that of the sweating face of a
slim young woman who couldn’t possibly get any slimmer, documenting the rounded
stoop of the old lady who walks the canal path daily and the seeing the sheer joy
on the face of a child feeding the ducks.
If the people who used the tow path fascinated me, it was the wildfowl
that really got me hooked.
During the winter I
photographed the resident geese, moorhens, ducks and swans as they struggled
over ice, fed from people’s hands and generally delighted the senses. I very quickly saw how each breed had
different characteristics from the noisy geese squabbling like children to the
quiet and attentive caring between two tiny moorhens.
Come Spring I delighted
in the pairing off of birds (something I stupidly never noticed before), I watched
the building (and destroying) of nests and the hatching and protection of
chicks. Now, as summer tickles the end
of spring, the canal if full of life: characters emerge, families establish
themselves and there are endless dramas to watch unfold. I hope you will join me as I share with you some
of the life along the canal.
The next most populous
were the Mallard ducks, the males with bright green or purple head and the
females brown but really quite exquisite with flashes of blue on their wings
and white darts on their tail feathers.
What I also discovered was that interbreeding among the different
species was common resulting in some quite dramatic colourings, shapes and
sizes. Included there, was one almost
golden brown female mallard hybrid who was to become the head of one of my
favourite families come spring. Another
character that is not quite mallard is a pure white duck with a single black
smudge on her head.
Four swans regularly
ran the canal; I believe one breeding pair that had nested one this stretch for
many years. And, each pair with their own territory, moorhens of which I knew
little or nothing before then. Well I
did know they were black with a red beak, long legs and a funny way of moving
their heads. What I didn’t know was how
devoted to each other and their young moorhens are.
This brings me to
spring. My stretch of canal is teeming
with new life and with on-going dramas.
The golden mallard laid 15 eggs with a variety of colours including one
truly yellow duckling. Sadly only 5 have
survived, but the yellow one is still there and I breathe a sigh of relief
every day I go down and she is still there.
Female mallards are generally good mothers. The male leaves very early but the female
will stay with the chicks until they are fully grown. She does not feed them, they do that
themselves immediately, but she runs protection for them. She will lead them to good places for food
and to safe havens, chasing off any other ducks that come too near. She will also brood them especially when it
rains as the chicks are not completely waterproof at this downy stage.
Well usually they
do. Remember Smudge? She laid about 8 eggs of which 4
hatched. I think she looked out for them
for about three weeks then took off on her own.
I suspect this was her first brood.
The four ducklings were left to completely forage on their own and
became a common sight nipping sharply in between geese and other ducks to
snatch food. They are almost fully grown
now which says much for their own tenacity and little for Smudge.
On the whole the
mallards have been very successful breeders this year. I have been watching one family of nine, and
they have all survived, another family of five including two very pale
ducklings and the most recent arrivals, a family of three of which two survive.
The arrival of spring
brought visiting Canada
geese, six in total with one breeding pair.
There are seven goslings and I have been discovering just how aggressive
they are even at a very young age.
Then there are the
breeding swans. They have produced seven
signets. The male is very aggressive and
won’t tolerate any Canada
geese on the canal when he is about.
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