The past so many weeks have not only been awfully wet and windy, but also horridly cold at often no more than fourteen degrees Celcius. After having being spoiled by the absurdly warm temperatures at the beginning of May, we all got our winter clothes back out again.
A quick, second check on my second-favourite stork nest in the hamlet of Geelbroek, had still not produced any sight of stork babies. One parent bird was sitting on the nest when I arrived. I stayed in the car, so as not to disturb it, but nothing much happened. I left again. I was beginning to seriously doubt there were any stork babies in the nest at all. It rained. It was miserable. It was cold. I concluded that I had better visit the nests at Oudemolen again (see parts 5/6), if I wanted to see any more stork babies.
Wednesday, the fifth of June, turned into a windy, but fairly warm and dry day for a change, so off I went to Oudemolen. Driving along one of the country roads, I noticed a small, yellow road sign near a lonely farmstead. It was a warning sign about an aggressive bird of prey. I had not noticed this sign on my previous trips along this road, and being curious, I researched it a bit later back home. I could only find a restricted access news article from 2016 about it, but there were plenty of other, country-wide reports on aggressive birds of prey. They were mostly referring to attacking buzzards, so I suspect the road sign that I was passing had, or maybe still has, to do with that.
One recent article coming from a local council down south, for example, explained to its residents that in the period from late May to early July, buzzards in particular are extra vigilant. The young have already left the nest during this period, but have not yet fledged. The council therefore advises people to avoid the buzzards and opt for another walking or cycling route. If that is not possible, it offers some other tips: put on a cap with the sunvisor backwards and put on another pair of sunglasses - birds of prey attack in the back and can get confused by this. Also, to avoid head injuries when a raptor approaches: make yourself as big as possible, and stick your arms or an umbrella in the air. Well, I thought - contemplating the highly unlikely daily practice of dragging annoying brollies around - and being momentarily amused by the image of acting like Zorro to counter-parry approaching sharp talons with an umbrella - that’s always good to remember.
Apart from attacking buzzards all over the place, there have also been occasional reports about Eurasian eagle owls (Bubo bubo) defending their breeding territories during this time of year. The most notorious one though, a female bird dubbed 'the terror of Purmerend', was so vicious all year round, that after some fifty violent attacks on passers-by, the local council decided to have her captured. This particular owl had set up shop in the town of Purmerend (north of Amsterdam) around 2014, and was literally terrorizing the locals to such an extent that people were scared to go out on the streets.
You might find it interesting to know that these majestic owls have been back in the Netherlands for a while now, with the first breeding pair arriving way down south in 1997. After a bit of a slow start, they have since then increased and settled just about all over the country - with forty-seven territories counted in 2023, housing some ninety to one hundred breeding pairs (according to Internet info). It was very exciting, and I remember the news very well, when in 2019 the first pair of eagle owls nested in my province of Drenthe. Apparently already increased to three breeding pairs by now, their exact locations are not being advertised. But, who knows, I might hear or see them one day on one of my excursions. That would be quite something!
Anyway, enough side tracking about birds of prey; back to storks and their babies. Parking in the by now familiar spot at Oudemolen, I walked over to the nest just across from the carpark; the one up in the big, dead tree. It had two adults and two half-grown youngsters crowding it. The dead tree stands near to a farmhouse, and it was only now that I discovered a second stork nest located on the other side of the farm. I had completely overlooked this one so far. Bit difficult to miss, you might say, as these nests are not particularly small, but there it was: an old pole nest, housing two beautiful young storks.
Being short in time, I decided to only walk the circular route around the ‘colony’ of storks that I had visited a good month ago (see part 6). The first tree nest, and the one closest to the path, had one adult sitting on the nest. Whether or not it had any young ones, remained a mystery though. The binoculars – since you can’t get close to the other two tree nests – showed two identifiable youngsters on one of them, and at least one young bird on the third nest. Following the path along the edge of the meadow, gave me various views of these nests, but it was tricky to be certain of the number of babies in them.
More than halfway along the meadow, the path veers back towards the pretty little river. The fourth nest of the colony is a tall nesting pole, pretty close to the path. After staring at it for some time from various angles, I eventually concluded that there were three young storks huddling in the nest. I could just make out their individual heads, and still rather grey, fluffy-looking bodies peeing out above the rim of the nest. They appeared to be a bit younger than the other ones I'd seen so far. One of their parents was caringly attending them. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and large, white clouds were drifting by. Flowering grasses of all kinds, meadowsweet, valerian, and common bulrush (Typha latifolia) had popped up all along the river's edges. It all looked calm and peaceful for a while.
Once home, in the early evening, I walked over to the nearest pole nest. It’s only a five minute walk, but, thanks to the horrid weather, I hadn’t been there either these past few weeks. Again, it was difficult to be certain, but I saw at least one youngster on the nest, together with one of its parents. After having been abandoned for a few years, it was good to see that this particular pole nest was housing new life again.
To be continued …
A quick, second check on my second-favourite stork nest in the hamlet of Geelbroek, had still not produced any sight of stork babies. One parent bird was sitting on the nest when I arrived. I stayed in the car, so as not to disturb it, but nothing much happened. I left again. I was beginning to seriously doubt there were any stork babies in the nest at all. It rained. It was miserable. It was cold. I concluded that I had better visit the nests at Oudemolen again (see parts 5/6), if I wanted to see any more stork babies.
Wednesday, the fifth of June, turned into a windy, but fairly warm and dry day for a change, so off I went to Oudemolen. Driving along one of the country roads, I noticed a small, yellow road sign near a lonely farmstead. It was a warning sign about an aggressive bird of prey. I had not noticed this sign on my previous trips along this road, and being curious, I researched it a bit later back home. I could only find a restricted access news article from 2016 about it, but there were plenty of other, country-wide reports on aggressive birds of prey. They were mostly referring to attacking buzzards, so I suspect the road sign that I was passing had, or maybe still has, to do with that.
One recent article coming from a local council down south, for example, explained to its residents that in the period from late May to early July, buzzards in particular are extra vigilant. The young have already left the nest during this period, but have not yet fledged. The council therefore advises people to avoid the buzzards and opt for another walking or cycling route. If that is not possible, it offers some other tips: put on a cap with the sunvisor backwards and put on another pair of sunglasses - birds of prey attack in the back and can get confused by this. Also, to avoid head injuries when a raptor approaches: make yourself as big as possible, and stick your arms or an umbrella in the air. Well, I thought - contemplating the highly unlikely daily practice of dragging annoying brollies around - and being momentarily amused by the image of acting like Zorro to counter-parry approaching sharp talons with an umbrella - that’s always good to remember.
Apart from attacking buzzards all over the place, there have also been occasional reports about Eurasian eagle owls (Bubo bubo) defending their breeding territories during this time of year. The most notorious one though, a female bird dubbed 'the terror of Purmerend', was so vicious all year round, that after some fifty violent attacks on passers-by, the local council decided to have her captured. This particular owl had set up shop in the town of Purmerend (north of Amsterdam) around 2014, and was literally terrorizing the locals to such an extent that people were scared to go out on the streets.
You might find it interesting to know that these majestic owls have been back in the Netherlands for a while now, with the first breeding pair arriving way down south in 1997. After a bit of a slow start, they have since then increased and settled just about all over the country - with forty-seven territories counted in 2023, housing some ninety to one hundred breeding pairs (according to Internet info). It was very exciting, and I remember the news very well, when in 2019 the first pair of eagle owls nested in my province of Drenthe. Apparently already increased to three breeding pairs by now, their exact locations are not being advertised. But, who knows, I might hear or see them one day on one of my excursions. That would be quite something!
Anyway, enough side tracking about birds of prey; back to storks and their babies. Parking in the by now familiar spot at Oudemolen, I walked over to the nest just across from the carpark; the one up in the big, dead tree. It had two adults and two half-grown youngsters crowding it. The dead tree stands near to a farmhouse, and it was only now that I discovered a second stork nest located on the other side of the farm. I had completely overlooked this one so far. Bit difficult to miss, you might say, as these nests are not particularly small, but there it was: an old pole nest, housing two beautiful young storks.
Being short in time, I decided to only walk the circular route around the ‘colony’ of storks that I had visited a good month ago (see part 6). The first tree nest, and the one closest to the path, had one adult sitting on the nest. Whether or not it had any young ones, remained a mystery though. The binoculars – since you can’t get close to the other two tree nests – showed two identifiable youngsters on one of them, and at least one young bird on the third nest. Following the path along the edge of the meadow, gave me various views of these nests, but it was tricky to be certain of the number of babies in them.
More than halfway along the meadow, the path veers back towards the pretty little river. The fourth nest of the colony is a tall nesting pole, pretty close to the path. After staring at it for some time from various angles, I eventually concluded that there were three young storks huddling in the nest. I could just make out their individual heads, and still rather grey, fluffy-looking bodies peeing out above the rim of the nest. They appeared to be a bit younger than the other ones I'd seen so far. One of their parents was caringly attending them. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and large, white clouds were drifting by. Flowering grasses of all kinds, meadowsweet, valerian, and common bulrush (Typha latifolia) had popped up all along the river's edges. It all looked calm and peaceful for a while.
Once home, in the early evening, I walked over to the nearest pole nest. It’s only a five minute walk, but, thanks to the horrid weather, I hadn’t been there either these past few weeks. Again, it was difficult to be certain, but I saw at least one youngster on the nest, together with one of its parents. After having been abandoned for a few years, it was good to see that this particular pole nest was housing new life again.
To be continued …
