Not far from a Pond

I made it to Birmingham for the first time this year on the 12th of January. Looking at the Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, Edith’s entry for January 12 was “Saw several Moorhens feeding on a newly ploughed field not far from a pond.” It is a accompanied by a water colour of a moorhen beside a pond. So my mission is to find a moorhen or other water bird.

Before I do that I’d better tell you about where I am.  I’m working at Trinity Park, which is on the eastern edge of Birmingham. This business park is tucked into a corner between the Euston to Birmingham railway line and the A45, which is the Coventry Road.  Maps from the early 20th Century show that these trunk routes followed the same lines that they do today. Instead of Virgin Pendelinos and traffic roaring past office blocks and a hotel,  steam trains and horse-drawn vehicles would have been passing fields. Maybe there were motor vehicles too. Austin had just started manufacturing cars at Longbridge to the south-west of the city.

The early maps don’t show the  pond, which is in a shady corner between two office blocks and the now monstrous Bickenhill Lane.

The Trinity Park pond, just before dawn.

When I first visited the pond at 7:30 am, it was too dark to see any birds but the scene was pretty with the dark velvety heads (actually catkins) of bulrush and the lights of offices reflected in the black waters.  I packed in about an hour's work before coming back. I'm in luck. Before I even get to the pond I can see a coot dipping for its breakfast. As I watch it, a pair of ducks appear from the bulrushes.

Mallards (ducks) emerging from the bullrushes.

As I prowl round the edge of the pond to get a better view of the coot, I notice its mate, still clinging to its bed in the dried stems of water plants at the edge of the pond. It slowly clambers out just like someone dragging themselves out of their sleep after being woken after an early alarm.

Coots. Sorry - My watercolour skills are a bit rusty!

A moorhen explodes from its hiding place, flies clumsily across the pond and crashes into the bullrushes. It is time for me to get back to work, so I pack up my camera and go.