Grey wagtail

Grey wagtails are balletic birds, never still for an instant, always twirling and darting here and there in search of insects. I photographed this beauty in the river Tees, downstream from Abbey bridge at Egglestone. The river is fast and turbulent there, rushing through a narrow rocky gorge, and its spray encourages luxurient growth of mosses and liverworts at the water's edge - a favourite feeding ground for wagtails in search of small insects that live in this riverbank vegetation.

 

What an otter ate

I have a favourite flat rock to sit on, on the banks of the river Tees where it meets the river Greta downstream from Egglestone. It's the perfect place to watch kingfishers as they flash past. Last week when we arrived there we discovered that an otter had decided to use it as a latrine and had left a substantial pile of poo, or to be more correct, a spraint.

There was no mistaking what it was - it had that characteristic oily, sickly smell - even though a few days of heavy rain had washed away its greasy coating. When we had a close look we could see the indigestible remains of the otter's meals embedded in it. 

A close look revealed some white circular objects and also the jointed antennae of a signal crayfish, confirmed by the presence of ...

... two large crayfish claws nearby which had been cracked open to extract the flesh.

I took the spraint home, soaked it in detergent overnight and extracted some of the remains of the food items.....

... Most of the objects on the left hand side are fragments of crayfish limbs and the larger object in the middle is part of its telson - the end of the abdomen that is usually curled under the crustacean and has flat fan-shaped paddles on the end. With one powerful flick of this it can propel itself backwards if threatened - although it didn't do this animal much good when it met the otter.

The long, thin object is one of the crayfish's antennae, still articulated after its passage through the otter's gut.

What interested me most though were those six pale objects down the right-hand side of the picture. They are otoliths - the 'earbones' of a fish that are part of its system for perceiving gravity and acceleration when it swishes its tail fin and shoots forward - not fast enough, in this case. The largest otolith is about seven millimetres in diameter, suggesting that the otter had caught quite a large fish.

The otoliths, seen under a magnifying glass, are fascinating structures made up of layers of calcium carbonate. You can see the concentric layers quite clearly here in two planes, because this otolith has been broken when the otter chewed the fish. 

The calcium carbonate comes from the water and the different coloured layers reflect differences in the chemical composition of waters that the fish swam in during its lifetime.

So, this little pile of smelly poo held some interesting clues to the otter's diet. Now I know that it has a territory here we'll be going back to see if we can watch the animal in action.

Woodland walk along the river Tees that J.M.W.Turner trod 200 years ago

This is the view of the river Tees from Abbey bridge near Egglestone, on a tranquil spring day. When the snow melts in Upper Teesdale this becomes a raging torrent, roaring through the rocky gorge. 

The woodland on the steep banks of the river here is exceptionally beautiful in spring, carpeted with wild flowers. Last week wood anemones were the star of the show; next week the bluebells will take over.

Fallen trees are left to gently decay and often develop their own 'garden' of flowers as they rot - like this one with a flora of wood anemone, ramsons and herb Robert.

Last week the bluebells had just begun to flower but it will be early May before the tree leave canopy begins to close over them. The fully-grown trees are mostly sycamore and oak.

The path winds through a dense carpet of wood anemones, high above the river.

Wood speedwell Veronica montana

When we arrived there was still a chill in the air and dew on the leaves, so the wood anemone flowers were all nodding downwards ...

..... but by mid-morning, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, they turned to face it.

This wood anemone had purple leaves.

Some early wild cherry blossom, hanging over the river.

Wood sorrel, nestling against a moss-covered tree base. The leaves fold down at night, like triangular tents.

Beyond the woodland the path passes through pastures, with ground ivy Glechoma hederacea flowering in the shelter of a dry stone wall.

Last week the first influx of warblers arrived, with this willow warbler and blackcaps singing

Last time we passed this way the elms were just coming into flower. Today their clusters of seeds were well-formed.

A bee-fly, a parasite of mining bees, sunbathing in a clearing.

Crane-flies mating.

A comma butterfly soaking up the spring sunshine after a long hibernation.

In 1816 J.M.W. Turner must have walked this footpath and perhaps sat somewhere near here to sketched this scene, at the confluence of the river Greta and the river Tees, which he painted in 1818. I like to think that perhaps he sat under this ancient oak, which would have been more youthful then, to view the scene, which you can see in his painting by clicking here.

Hairy snail

I found this tiny hairy snail Trochulus hispidus in woodland beside the river Tees near Barnard Castle today. The shell was about 5mm. in diameter.

It's a common species but tends to be confined to damp, shady habitats.

However did I manage to miss this ........... ?

For the last 30 years, when we've been walking along the river Tees at Egglestone we've parked within 20 metres of the spot where this Jacob's ladder Polemonium caeruleum grows but it was only a couple of days ago that I actually noticed it for the first time. I guess it must have been the first time we'd parked there when the plant was in full flower.

It's a rare native species and this was probably a garden escape, but very attractive nonetheless.

There were a few dozen plants in the population, including this white flowered, fasciated plant.

Roe Deer

This roe deer stood watching us as we walked along the River Tees this morning, from Barnard Castle to Cotherstone. It's just beginning to grow its winter coat, which blended beautifully with the autumn colours in this beechwood.

A little further on we found a doe with is year's fawn, both looking in fine condition at the end of a long, mild autumn when there has been plenty of food available.

An Autumn Walk along the River Tees

The long, narrow gorge spanned by Egglestone's Abbey Bridge bridge provides one the most picturesque viewing points on the River Tees in autumn

This is the view from the bridge looking upstream - Egglestone Abbey is just  above the trees in the middle distance (double-click) and is ...

...... visible from the bridge now that the leaves are falling.

The view downstream - there are footpaths on both sides of the river and you can follow it down to its confluence with the River Greta, at the Meeting of the Waters.

The river squeezes through narrow gaps and tumbles over boulders ...

.... and you can hear it through the trees all the way along the path, even when it isn't in spate.

The high humidity in the gorge makes this a fine habitat for mosses and ferns like this polypody growing as an epiphyte on a tree branch over the river.

Yellowing horse chestnut leaves provide a sunbathing spot for flies whose days are numbered, now that frosts are on their way.

Nectar-rich ivy flowers provide a last-minute refuelling station for drone flies.

Shades of yellow - hazel, oak and beech autumn colours.

Some of the large beeches have been attacked by honey fungus - always fatal, but it can take decades to kill the tree.

A nuthatch, dangling down to pick beech nuts out of beech mast - it seems to be a 'mast year', with a very heavy crop.

Ripe holly berries are a reminder that there are only 50 shopping days until Christmas.

Downstream there are some wild cherries with a fiery display of autumn colours..

... and a fine crop of ripe yew berries.

A passing shower leaves a rainbow, which is wasted on those two sheep that are watching - they only have dichromatic vision and can't distinguish red from green.

Looking back upstream - on what Kenneth Grahame in the Wind in the Willows called a 'golden afternoon'...