Country File: Hard not to interfere with the workings of the natural world

WE had been keeping an eye on the pair of swans on their nest. Tucked away in the reeds behind one of the islands, they seemed to have found the perfect place to nest.

For an entire week the female, or pen, was nestled down and obviously had eggs beneath her. Then, the last time I went to see (through binoculars at a hundred yards distant), she was no longer there, nor has she been back.

Her nest has obviously been raided, but by what?

It could have been a fox that discovered her.

With cubs old enough to be weaned, foxes take a heavy toll on spring wildlife. Or perhaps the local crows spied the eggs when she went for food. They also make short work of even the strong shell of a swan's egg.

Last year I had watched a pair of crows robbing a swan's nest. It took considerable effort on their part before they finally broke through those stout shells.

They rolled each egg around, delivering a succession of heavy blows with their bills until they finally forced their way in.

The odd thing was that the swans were right there, just looking on as if they didn't care.

Yet should we stray too close to an active nest, we should soon be sent packing. An angry swan is not to be trifled with, as I know from personal experience.

I was looking for a trout on the River Robe when a male mute swan, or cob, burst out of the reeds without warning, hissing like a bag of cats and striking the water so hard with his wings the slapping sounds made were actually very alarming.

He leaped onto the bank just yards away and raised himself high, so that his head was level with my own.

And then he charged with a great, trumpeting blare, with his wings spread six feet wide and ready to clatter me around the ears.

I made a hasty and most undignified retreat with the swan tight behind to hurry me along my way.

We cursed each other then, before he returned to his jealously guarded nest and I to the pool above his, where I'd already fished and caught nothing.

Back on the lake, the swans that had their nest robbed by one predator or another have already started again.

This time they have build a tidy mound of dead reed stems about 200 paces from their original home, and the female is sitting tight once more.

Perhaps she is a young bird in her first breeding season, and didn't know enough to take care of her family. We hope she does better this time. While we have no shortage of swans, we still need the population to be replenished year on year. And it will only take one bout of bird flu to diminish the numbers that we presently have.

What strikes me most with this pair of birds is the speed with which they set about producing a second clutch of eggs. Doing so must be quite a strain on the female, for each one weighs more than 300 grams and is high in protein and other nutrients.

Let's hope she is more successful with this clutch and that the otter we spied crossing the bay doesn't find the nest, for he too likes nothing better than a fine feed of egg for breakfast.

It is hard not to interfere with the workings of the natural world, yet everything around us is part of a system, even if it does feel unfair or seem to be out of kilter. All we can do is watch and learn.