And, tittering tottering sideways, he ne'er got straight again.
He stooped to get a worm and look'd up to catch a fly
And then he flew away ere his feathers they were dry.
Little trotty wagtail, he waddled in the mud
And left his little foot-marks, trample where he would.
He waddled in the water pudge and waggle went his tail
And chirrupt up his wings to dry upon the garden rail.
Little trotty wagtail, you nimble all about
And in the dimpling water pudge you waddle in and out
Your home is nigh at hand and in the warm pigsty,
So little Master Wagtail I'll bid you a 'Good bye'.
Poem by John Clare (1793-1864) 'Little trotty wagtail'.
 |
| A juvenile grey wagtail on the boulders near a water stream |
Foraging for flies and other small insects, a grey wagtail waggled near my feet close to the river De Dommel, the Netherlands. It made a sport of staying close to me, without feeling disturbed in any particular way. It jumped for nearby flies buzzing around its head - beak open to catch it on wing. Slowly, but waggling steady, it scanned the water surface for food, never giving up on that waggling tail in the wind. A moment later it was stretching its wings on one of the boulders, showing fitness moves that I could never manage. This little trotty wagtail, as juvenile it might be, it showed survival techniques necessary for the harsh demanding human world it is living in.
A few days later I went back again for another close encounter. This time it was a breeding pair on the boulders, two waggling tails sweeping over the stones and patches of grass.
 |
| Female grey wagtail collecting nest material |
The male was on the look-out, staying close to the border of the stream. He might expect other males to come around, competing for his female, or other dangers at hand. In the meantime, the female collected material for building a nest. She came as close to me as three metres, snatching white goose feathers and strings of pollen out of the grass and nettles. She looked at me, proud with a beak full of strings, without taking any notice of me at all. I was just another bush in my green camouflage outfit. The breeding pair came back three times, staying put with waggling tail on the grass and nettle patches to collect what they needed. Soon there might be more juveniles around?
