I spy the bee-eater
http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2015/aug/25/spy-bee-eater Version 0 of 1. It felt like an agricultural show. Lines of cars parked in a field and a blue canopy were definitely an event. Laminated signs read “Bee-eaters, this way”. We followed a footpath that skirted Low Gelt sand quarry, gorse pods snapping open in the hot evening air. On the long walk in, we talked to a steel worker from Redcar, his first time travelling to see a rare breeding bird – a bird from southern Europe that fires the imagination with its rainbow colours. The RSPB had set up a second open-sided tent on the rim of the quarry. Backed by bracken and birch saplings, a large gathering waited, their binoculars and scopes trained across a deep bowl to the far side. There was hushed chatter like a congregation waiting for a service to begin. Pink sand was sculpted into crags, bluffs and Saharan swirls, and tracks looped across the bottom where a machine had recently been working. Through the scope the heat shimmered, making the nest hole seem to wobble across the distance. A pair of bee-eaters had burrowed deep into the cliff, enjoying 24-hour nest protection since 10 June. Sudden feeding activity at the end of July showed that their eggs had hatched. The adults were bringing in the variety of insects needed for healthy chicks: bees, butterflies, a banded demoiselle. But I was told that a local beekeeper was happy with their visits. Bee-eaters take the weak, exhausted bees, keeping the hives in good condition. Coming in with insects several times an hour, the male was aided by another male, possibly last year’s offspring. A second hole in the cliff made a roost hole for this helper, and nearby, the multi-story nests of gregarious sand martins. Dust blew off the ridges and bands of coloured sand as we waited. A partridge stood on the far edge, a hobby flew across the field behind. Expectation built. Suddenly, there it was; a bee-eater in elegant outline on a fence post, its feathers painted with Japanese brush strokes in verdigris, amber, slate-blue, honey. A flurry of exotic wings, a curved nib of a beak, and it was gone again. |