Pomp

I was driving into Stratford this morning, en route to meeting up with R for lunch, when he phoned to let me know that there were several Tufted Ducks on the river off the Bancroft Gardens. When I parked and hot-footed it down there I found that he was still standing on the wharf watching them, and we agreed on a count of seven: two females and five males.

These birds will now be starting their homeward migration to breed, either in Iceland (which is where the majority of our winter tufties originate), or in northern Europe. The males were all in their full breeding plumage and looking splendid, and though I couldn't really see the purple-green iridescence on their faces in today's rather flat light, I'm happy to find that the camera picked it up quite well.

My second photo is of one of the two females, delicately scratching her chin. This image shows a couple of interesting things, I think: firstly, how big the feet of a diving duck tend to be, relative to its body size, and secondly, the transparent nictitating membrane, or third eyelid, which the tuftie brought across the eye to protect it while she scratched around her face. This structure hinges across from the inner corner of the eye, so the dark line is its leading edge. Tufted Ducks also raise the nictitating membrane for protection a split second before their heads enter the water in a dive.