P
peter hayes
Guest
While filming at the London Wetlands Centre in Barnes today with Dr Richard Taylor, Parliament's only Independent MP (a serious birdwatcher), we stopped at the first bridge overlooking a narrow stretch of water. A rather mangy looking Heron was rooted to a horizontal branch in typically statuesque fashion.
Passing behind were some Mallards and their young, who seemed a little agitated. A little further away was a family of Moorhens, the parents guarding their chicks. The Heron seemed totally disinterested in what was going on around him. Disdainful, even.
Suddenly, there was the most almighty kerfuffle. The Mallards went crazy, the Heron flew off a short distance, and then swooped. He gobbled up a Moorhen chick in one movement.
The wriggling, petrified youngster tried frantically to escape, as its parents demonstrated their alarm but could do nothing. The heron shook its prey. The chick’s neck went limp. Dr Taylor said: "I think he’s broken its neck.” But there was still some life in the chick, which was by no means small. It was a fair size, and you might have thought it would be safe from such a predator.
The Heron kept shaking its catch, occasionally dropping its head to dip the Moorhen in the water in order to adjust its grip. Gradually, as they do with fish, it managed to manoeuvre the poor chick length ways in its bill and swallowed the wriggling breakfast whole.
We caught almost all this on camera (all except the final moment – the cameraman felt sick!) and it is remarkable footage. The Marketing Manager of the Wetlands Centre commented that it was a good job there were no school children present!
I had no idea that herons could eat something as large as a Moorhen chick. I felt horrified, yet privileged, to witness this awesome event.
Passing behind were some Mallards and their young, who seemed a little agitated. A little further away was a family of Moorhens, the parents guarding their chicks. The Heron seemed totally disinterested in what was going on around him. Disdainful, even.
Suddenly, there was the most almighty kerfuffle. The Mallards went crazy, the Heron flew off a short distance, and then swooped. He gobbled up a Moorhen chick in one movement.
The wriggling, petrified youngster tried frantically to escape, as its parents demonstrated their alarm but could do nothing. The heron shook its prey. The chick’s neck went limp. Dr Taylor said: "I think he’s broken its neck.” But there was still some life in the chick, which was by no means small. It was a fair size, and you might have thought it would be safe from such a predator.
The Heron kept shaking its catch, occasionally dropping its head to dip the Moorhen in the water in order to adjust its grip. Gradually, as they do with fish, it managed to manoeuvre the poor chick length ways in its bill and swallowed the wriggling breakfast whole.
We caught almost all this on camera (all except the final moment – the cameraman felt sick!) and it is remarkable footage. The Marketing Manager of the Wetlands Centre commented that it was a good job there were no school children present!
I had no idea that herons could eat something as large as a Moorhen chick. I felt horrified, yet privileged, to witness this awesome event.