Return of the Wandering Minstrels

This is the week that our wild winter residents make their long-awaited return. Yes, it may seem crass to be talking about the winter so soon after the gloomy, wet and thoroughly disappointing “summer” we’ve enjoyed this year, but facts are facts and the estuary is decidedly autumnal already.

The birds in question are brent geese, of the dark bellied persuasion to be precise. About 1% of the entire world’s population of these geese spend their winter on the Exe Estuary, after a manic summer raising young in arctic Siberia. They flock to our mild climate to see out the winter scoffing nitrogen-rich eelgrass on the mudflats of the estuary and, at this time of year, with a little knowledge, they reveal the secrets of the north.

As minstrels go, they are not the most musical, giving no more than a snuffling grunt or honking croak at the best of times. But they do indeed wander – with a round trip of over 7,000 miles a year between summer and winter grounds. They are easily identifiable geese, being small stout fellows with dark plumage and a bright white collar. As the name suggests our local population have dark feathers under the belly, making them the Siberian race; birds that breed in Iceland display a pale plumage under the chest.

And it’s the pale feathers we must look towards if we want to discover this bird’s big secret. Young brent geese, in their first year, have a white flecking on the wings and lack the distinct white neck collar of their parent birds. By counting the proportion of these first year birds in relation to the adults, it is possible to get a very good idea of brent goose breeding success for that year, without setting foot outside Exmouth!

We tend to see cycles of prosperous breeding success, known as ‘recruitment’ in the dry world of ecology, which are due to natural boom and bust years in the high north. Who would have thought that the fortunes of our little black geese are closely linked to lemmings?

In years when lemmings are abundant, these are the favoured food of arctic foxes and other Siberian predators, and so the geese tend to escape attention. Predator numbers build on the glut of lemmings and every three or four years the lemming population experiences a crash. The knock-on effect is that predators turn to geese chicks to supplement their diet and we witness a few poor years in brent goose recruitment.

We’ve had a few bad years recently, so I will be particularly interested to see what numbers of adults and juveniles make it back this year. If the trend continues to decrease, this could be a warning sign that all is not well in the Arctic and perhaps things are more amiss than just a lack of lemmings.

Try a little tenderness

This is one of my favourite times of year for watching wildlife silliness, and by that I mean people’s silliness around wildlife rather than squirrels on “You’ve Been Framed”. You know the score: sunny autumn lunchtime; nice pub garden; pint; ploughmans and suddenly the table next to you explodes like the seats are electrified.

The reason? A small black and yellow insect. For some reason most people’s reaction to seeing a wasp is completely counter-productive; take a moment to consider the facts. In the cooler autumnal months wasps are on the lookout for high-energy meals, sugary liquids in particular, hence their appetite for beer and cider – strangely enough this is my seasonal excuse too. As well as their alcohol consumption, they are also sluggish due to the drop in temperature. Wasps will sting if provoked or entangled, so why is it that people seem compelled to flap and swat at them?

Sure no one likes to be stung, so keep an eye on the little colourful character, but unless you have someone with known sensitivity to histamine, or a very young child in your party, try ignoring the little chap for a change. I predict it will have a bit of a sniff about, before moving on.  If it doesn’t, I owe you a pint!

It’s at this time of year that wasps tend to wander into houses too, as they search for warm places to hibernate. If this happens to you, why not trap it in a dry glass with some card and transfer it back outside. These creatures are a vital part of our local biodiversity, so not squashing them – or worse, using dreaded insect spray – is a benefit to your local biodiversity.