Life

Take on Nature: The tale of the pied wagtail and the nest on the boiler

The pied wagtail is one of our most recognisable species
The pied wagtail is one of our most recognisable species The pied wagtail is one of our most recognisable species

THE pied wagtail is not a bird that causes much excitement. It is one of our most recognisable species and can be seen running in stop-start movements along the ground or flying in eccentric patterns just above our heads.

However, this past week I have been paying them much more attention than usual – well one of them in particular.

Having lost the cover of my oil tank many years ago, it is now sealed with the cap from a paint tin bound up with duct tape and covered with a metal panel weighed down with a couple of bricks. This makes checking the oil level quite a cumbersome task.

Last Saturday, it was only after I had removed the bricks and panel and started unravelling the tape that I noticed a nest on top of the tank. Inside were three, small, blueish-coloured and speckled eggs.

I put a finger into the nest and it was still warm and, after a quick peek into the tank, put everything back together, hoping I hadn’t frightened off the mother with my unintended intrusion.

Moving back to an unobtrusive distance I sat and waited for a few minutes until the small black and white bird with is long, distinctive wagging tail landed back on the oil tank and ducked back in under the cover.

From where I sat I could see her head poking over the top of the nest as she sat on the eggs, her eyes fixed warily on me. Every now and then she would come out and fly to the ground, running, stopping, pecking into the moss on the stone driveway, her tail wagging and head bobbing. She seemed to spend more time on the ground that in the air.

When she did take off, her flight was almost as erratic as her running movements, a juddering upward motion during which at times she seemed to falter in mid-air before regaining height and perching on an overhead wire, her tail flickering wildly up and down as if she was using it to balance.

Just beside the driveway is the small woodland I planted, so I wondered what attraction the oil tank held over the natural shelter.

Being in bird-watching mode I went to sit among the trees, wedged in to the thickening trunk of an oak and surrounded by birch and Scots pines. Wrens, the smallest of our native bird species, predominated as they flitted in among the leaves, needles and branches.

They could all be from the one family as the male will build a number of nests for its mate to choose from to lay her eggs in. When these have hatched and fledged the male will take the chicks off to one of the other nests while the mother lays a second brood.

Also flitting among the wispy trees are sparrows and coal tits, and I wonder if the relatively young forest is only attractive to smaller species, as the larger crows and magpies seem to stick to the more mature ash and sycamore nearby.

The thickening canopy of leaves also provides cover from the buzzards which can often be seen hovering overhead.

The combined effect of the cross-species twittering and whistling is a natural symphony set against a backdrop of rustling leaves and the sound of yet another downpour.

Meanwhile, I can only hope that the warmish weather holds, as it will be at least another week before the wagtail's eggs hatch and a few more after that until the chicks are big enough to leave the nest and fend for themselves – so oil deliveries are out.

And there could be more to come, because like the wren, wagtails can produce two broods in one breeding season.