THE DAY OF THE SEAHORSE

The seahorse was the first creature to really capture my imagination when I was a child. I remember seeing about them in a picture book and not quite believing they could be real - the thought of something that shape making its way silently, upright, through the sea seemed impossibly romantic. Then, when I became a feminist, learning that the male bore the young lifted these fish even further in my estimation.

Unfortunately, now that I am in this unique moment with other Gentle Footprints authors I find that the seahorse too is if not endangered then certainly vulnerable.

Why? Boat anchors and bottom dredging by fishermen damaging their habitats - they're quite fragile and don't adapt well to changing conditions; they're used in Chinese medicine (20 million a year taken); they're kept as pets (a million a year taken, of whom 99 percent are dead within six weeks). They're also captured, dried and sold as decoration (a million a year - I know, what is the matter with us?).

They're fish but they don't swim well. They get around by beating their dorsal fins 30-70 times a second and steering with pectoral fins on either side of their head. It's tough, so they prefer hooking their tail around the grasses they live in and just bobbing around. The eyes, on either side of the horse-shaped head, can move independently. How can you not love a creature that bobs around looking forwards and backwards at the same time? It's handy when looking for food - they eat things like small crustaceans, tiny fish and plankton and estimates are that adults eat up to fifty pieces of food a day. They don't have teeth but slurp the food up through their snouts. They don't have stomachs either thus the need to eat all day. Babies, apparently - called fry - eat sixty times that amount.

Which leads to the birth business. It was once widely said that they mated for life and were faithful, but this may not be true (they only live for about four years anyway). The female deposits the eggs in the male's pouch and he fertilises them there, then carries them for 14 to 28 days. They court for several days before breeding, and while the young are incubating the female comes to visit every day, where there's a greeting ritual. Depending on species there may be between fifty and fifteen hundred fry and contractions can last for twelve hours.

Of course, like all fish, once the young - fully formed miniature seahorses - are expelled there's no more nurturing and dad's ready to receive the next batch of eggs the morning after the night he's given birth. As we saw with NeiraKeto the octopus (see "Closing Circles" by Anne Cleasby in Gentle Footprints) thousands of them don't survive. With seahorse fry fewer than 0.5% of the brood survive, what with predators and delicate little bodies being washed away into colder waters. It seems very wasteful of life (why not have fewer and look after them?) but these creatures have been around one way or another for 40 million years.

We have two British indigenous species, the spiny and the short-snouted, found mainly all down the west coast and the south coast and there are another 28 species worldwide, including the fancifully named winged seahorse, hedgehog seahorse, giraffe seahorse and sea pony.

Oh, and they don't live in groups but can you guess what a whole bunch of them together are called? A herd of seahorses...

The Day of the Cuckoo by Lyn Fountain

Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu!

I was walking the dogs early Monday morning, and had taken one of my favourite paths, which is through the churchyard, up the incline of the wheatfield and along the line of the hedgerow behind the old Hall. It was cool and damp, the air was still and had yet to be stirred and warmed by a sun that was pale and weak for June. As I arrived at and turned the corner, facing north, a distinctive birdsong rose out of the haze of a distant clump of trees beyond the next village. It was the umistakeable call of a cuckoo. The first I'd heard since moving to the Norfolk countryside, and only the second time I'd ever heard one - the first time being around 15 years ago. A dozen times it called, "Cuck-oo.. cuck-oo.." in rapid succession, with barely a beat between the repetitions. It might be a bit late in heralding spring, and it's certainly not nearly summery enough here in chilly Norfolk, but - as corny as it sounds - the beautiful simplicity of it lifted my heart, and I couldn't wait to tell the first person I met that I'd just heard a cuckoo.

The cuckoo arrives in Western Europe from April onwards. After breeding, the adults return to East Africa around July, with the offspring following in September. From photographs, in the looks department - particularly because of size and head - I think they resemble the collared dove, but a cuckoo in flight, with its barred undercarriage, can also be misidentified as a sparrowhawk or a kestrel. Thrilled as I am to have heard the bird again after so long, I'd really love to see one next time.

Legend has much to say on the subject of the cuckoo. It is supposed to sing from St Tiburtius' Day (14th April) to St John's Day (24th June).
A very old book I have includes omens connected to birds, and of the cuckoo it recommends noting from which side of you the call comes. If it comes from the right, you may expect prosperity; from the left, prepare for disappointment. In my case it was straight ahead. Apparently the quarter from which you hear it will indicate the direction of your travels during the ensuing year. As 'my' cuckoo was calling from the north, I'm hoping not to travel too far in that direction. Any more than 30 miles and I'll be in the North Sea!

I remember bits of a little rhyme my mother used to chant to me about the cuckoo. And it went something like: In July time to fly, In Au-gust away I must. I can still hear her voice putting the stress on the '-gust' to make it rhyme with 'must'.

In his poem To the Cuckoo, William Wordsworth said: 'O Cuckoo! Shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering voice'. So perhaps he found them difficult to catch sight of too!

The Day of The Dolphin

Dolphins are some of the most fascinating, intelligent, and beautiful animals on the planet. I have always been drawn to them since I watched the 'Flipper' TV show as a child.

I later realised that the poor dolphins used on the show were in captivity. I guess that when you're a kid you just watch the show to see the dolphins do stunts and tricks - I never considered that the poor animals were suffering. I know better now.

However I am happy to report that one of the trainers Ric O'Barry became a marine activist when one of the dolphins became depressed and committed suicide by refusing to breathe. He has campaigned for the last 38 years against dolphin captivity and against the horrific 'dolphin drives' which take place in Japan every year.

My first real encounter came about ten years ago whilst on holiday in California. My family and I were wading out into the rolling surf and then from the corner of my eye, about six feet to my left, I spied two dolphins bursting from the waves! They were close enough for me to see the water shimmering on their skin and their 'smiling' faces. I couldn't believe how close they were, or how beautiful. Since that time I have been lucky enough to see them at least five or six times fishing for breakfast along the Californian coast, but at a distance.

Then around five years ago I saw a programme on TV about the Moray Firth bottlenose dolphins. My husband and I went up soon after for a few days to try to see them, and once again we were lucky. I remember the weather was awful, cold, grey and tipping down stair rods!

I was spying through binoculars from the car at Chanory point, and because of the steamed up windows I had to do a double take. Was that a fin I just saw? Yes indeed! Without a moment's hesitation I jumped out of the car and raced through the driving rain along the shingle beach to where they were heading.

At the end of the point was a man with a huge camera set on a tripod soaked to the skin, and another man walking his dog. We chatted excitedly as we watched about ten of the magnificent creatures hunting for salmon just a few feet from the shore. After about fifteen minutes they swam further away , but it was such a wonderful experience. I'll never forget it.

They seem to have the ability to fill me with joy and wonder, and I know they have a similar effect on others. This is why I find it particularly distressing to find these creatures trapped in ridiculously small pens made to perform tricks, and also that they are still hunted by some.

There are about 45 types of dolphin in the world, the largest being the Orca or killer whale. They live from between 20-45 years in the wild but only 4-10 in captivity. They live in pods and are very social animals. The Moray Firth boasts around 130 resident bottlenose dolphins and many porpoises. Sadly hundreds of dolphin and porpoise die ' by-catch' worldwide every year. This simply means that they are caught in trawling nets and drown.

The WDCS (Whale and Dolphin Conservation Society) have two free sites in the Moray Firth you can visit. They seek to raise awareness about providing a safe environment for these animals. They also campaign against whale and dolphin captivity, and against the hunting of whales and dolphins.

I adopted a dolphin when I was up there, and for as little as £4 per month so could you! My dolphin is called Rainbow, and I receive a picture and reports on her progress each year. I also receive a very interesting and informative magazine every three months. See the link below if you would like to find out more.

http://www2.wdcs.org/hych/adopt/dolphin/pack.pph

I hope you enjoyed the day of the dolphin, and I hope it's made you want to find out more about these magnificent creatures.

Mandy :)

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.


Maya Angelou





Virginia McKenna told me she loves this poem and sees no greater sadness than a bird that has the wonderful gift of being able to fly trapped in a cage. I whole-heatedly agree with that sentiment.

The Otter Lutra Lutra

I remember wanting to have a pet otter in my bath after watching Ring of Bright Water when I was a kid- also of course starring Virginia McKenna. And I also remember Tarka the Otter and how I cried at the end- I can still remember it- a bubble shook the surface and then another. And then no more... something like that.

A friend of mine did an otter project with Snowdonia National Parks as part of her MSc. I spent the summer counting Sandwich Terns into a colony where they were nesting with Black-headed Gulls- I was actually looking at something called Kleptoparasitism which is food piracy. And my friend was at the same time tracking otters in Snowdonia. Except sadly they are so elusive all she was able to study was their spraints (poos to you!)

What wonderful animals they are- I dreamed of seeing them in Scotland when I visited Mull. I was supposed to take a trip with Lee and we loved Scotland so much. It took me a couple of years to be able to finally take that trip after he died and I ordered otters one morning in his honour. And he came through- because there they were. We rounded a corner to find a mother and 2 cubs playing. All I can say is WOW. I had a little tear and thanked Lee.

So I will leave with some lovely pictures of otters:






One of my other favourite animals is the playful but elusive otter Lutra lutra






Who wants to tell us about your favourite animal tomorrow?

Hear Marilyn Fountain on BBC Radio Norfolk

Well now the craziness of the Hay week and all that fun is slowing down we need to keep the momentum going and get a copy of Gentle Footprints into everyones' homes. It's such an extraordinary book- as says Paul Blezard amongst others- so we need to get it out there. Tell everyone you know.

This evening Marilyn was interviwed by BBC Radio Norfolk-

Listen by clicking here: CLICK

Great job!

Anyone fancy Blogging about some other animals- perhaps ones that never made it into GF? The Week of... how about The Otter... what lovely animals they are- I might Blog about them this week- if anyone else wants to think of an animal and some more Weeks of I am up for it?





And those photos of Hay coming this week as well...

Also of you get the chance do check out Brian May's Save Me website- click- HERE

Brilliant Hay

My goodness, wasn’t it brilliant though? Debz and I had already had a great week staying on a lovely farmhouse – with amazing puppies – and we were pretty lucky with the weather too. The atmosphere at Hay is brilliant. People sitting around reading books. Books everywhere. And other interesting activities too.
The climax came of course on Friday 4 July. We Bridge House staff met Virginia McKenna at the Swan hotel at 11.00. We chatted to her until it was time for her and Debz and her assistant Lauren to go up to the Festival site to record the programme for the Book Show on Sky Arts. She is a lovely lady.
It was exciting, too, later in the day, meeting the other authors who came to the event. Putting faces to names was of course great.
The highlight even of that day naturally was the book launch itself. And it was our book launch. The event opened with the words “We are here today to launch this extraordinary book…”
Later, watching the recording of The Book Show I heard the same words again.
Extraordinary book.
Well, that was what we aimed for. That is what we achieved. At least two high profile people have now said that. And about a thousand people watched its launch.