I took advantage of last week's cold, clear weather to go and look at swans. I zig-zagged across the fens, patiently behind trundling sugar-beet lorries, to visit the Wildfowl and Wetland Trust' s reserve at Welney on the Ouse Washes. After the recent rains the 'washes' are flooded and packed with birds. Swans and ducks paddle freely on the expanse of water but the waders are crammed on strips of higher land. While proper birdwatchers were scanning the feathered hordes for unusual species, I was happy to watch the bustle of bird life. One thing I never tire of is watching the whooper and Bewick swans coming in to land on the water. Landing is not usually the most graceful action of a large bird. It has to slow down almost to a stop while still creating as much lift as possible to keep it airborne until the last second before touching down. Otherwise it will go flat on its face. So, a flurry of exaggerated wingbeats, as if it is back-pedalling, brakes the bird's forward movement as well as providing lift until it is almost hovering. Then, if it has judged right, it puts its feet down and runs a few steps to lose momentum. When landing on water, a swan is all together more elegant. It comes down in a shallow glide on outstretched wings, its body gradually converging with its reflection on the still water below. It is moving fast but, at the last moment, the body tips up and the wings become airbrakes. The feet are thrust forward to act as water skis and the swan slides to a standstill, its elegance unruffled.
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