Eyeworth Ponds

On a Sunday lunchtime, many people will be at home, gathered around a roast dinner, or at a restaurant for a carvery. However, at just gone midday, a group of young people was gathered on the banks of Eyeworth Ponds, near the village of Fritham, in the north of the New Forest National Park. They were eating packed lunches and squinting towards the opposite bank, searching for something of interest. Something of interest here, of course, would be hidden among the trees and rafts of lilies.

As you might be able to tell from my two previous posts, I was on the Wild New Forest Wildlife Camp and today was the last day of the camp. Eyeworth Ponds was to be our final stop before doubling back on ourselves and heading back to Cameron’s Cottage. We’d spent the morning walking among the precious heathland habitat that the New Forest National, with birds flitting and flying all around us before dropping into the abundant gorse and heather. From Meadow Pipits to the nationally scarce Dartford Warbler, the sheer diversity of species was incredible.

And so I sat, boots dangling over the rippling water, scanning with binoculars and camera while thoughtfully snacking on a chocolate bar. There didn’t seem to be very much out there. There was little in the way of ducks, bar a single Moorhen bubbling under cover of an alder’s overhanging boughs, trailing in the water. So I took my sandwich from my lunchbox and started to eat. This required two hands, so binoculars were not operated for a moment. However, as soon as I raised them back up to my eyes and began to scan again, they froze on one thing.

On the far bank, there was a particularly brave tree, leaning precariously far out over the deep water, which I now realised was interspersed with signs of fish. But on one of these bare branches, sat a small, agile-shaped bird, its plumage a brilliant blue. It turned around, and its breast and stomach winked at me a glorious sunset orange. I just couldn’t stop myself. In as loud a voice as I could muster without shouting, I called out ‘there’s a Kingfisher over there’.

And that there was, sat across the water for all to see, if one would only take the trouble to look around for it. It was an understatement to say that they were beautiful. They look like an ocean sunset, only upside down (haha!), and this one you didn’t have to travel to the coast for. They have to be one of Britain’s most colourful birds, if not winning the title by far. They could easily have just come out of the Amazon rainforest, perfectly at home among the birds-of-paradise and the banana-billed toucans.

Everybody was now fixed on the Kingfisher, binoculars and cameras raised. After five minutes of posing for its adoring fans, it flashed off to the right, a bolt of blue lightning against the light green background. It flew low across the lilies, and came to perch upon a log protruding from the water momentarily, before alighting once more in an overhanging tree, this time more hidden within its protective boughs. By now, it was out of range of most optical equipment, and even harder to see with the naked eye, so the group settled back down to scanning and eating alternately,. looking for another encounter, with the first still fresh on their minds.

The Kingfisher seemed to have completed a task beyond all of our expectations, however, and it seemed to have brought everybody out to play. A pair of Mallards, one dashing and one drab, appeared on the far bank, paddling beneath the Kingfisher’s previous haunt. The bubbling calls increased tenfold, as around a dozen moorhens appeared, scattered across the edge of the pond. The place had come to life, and I was transfixed.

It had, once again, been a succesful and enjoyable morning, and the walk back to Cameron’s Cottage now awaited us. Who knew what we might see on the way back? But with that Kingfisher, my thirst was now well satisfied. Birding at its best can bring unexpected things, and I certainly didn’t expect to find that treasure here. Stay tuned for more blogs about the camp, and all in all, a pretty good Sunday morning!