A PAIR of swans have once again nested near the weir at Station Yard, Malmesbury, and nature lovers who have witnessed previous dramas are concerned about the safety of the babies.

LIZ BRADLEY is following the cygnets' progress for us and describes their third week.

Tuesday, May 26

I haven’t seen the swan family at all today.

9pm: I look across the weir to the nest site. Nothing white stands out. A rat scurries down a bank in front of me. Moments later I receive a text from a friend walking her dog in Brokenborough: “The swans are here. I can only see mum and dad. Too far away.”

I head over and find myself striding through long grass and tall buttercups. It isn’t long however before I find them; tucked away around a bend. The adults look sleepy, and are laying on a grassy platform just the right size for the family. Their young swim in the stream below, before climbing the steep bank to their bed. Six cygnets snuggle together for another night.

Wednesday, May 27

At Park Road, the scatty house martins are out and about. I love to watch their crazy flight and listen to their excited banter. Several swoop down and drink from a puddle. A cow has crossed the river onto the green; three people guide it back to the water where it stumbles down the bank, before lugging its bulk up the other side to join the watching herd. No swans here.

Returning later, I am pleased to see the family resting on the grass; but I count only five cygnets. I look for a sixth, but don’t see it. Is it somewhere calling for its parents I wonder, or perhaps it has been predated. No way of knowing.

I go to Station Yard. A flash of green and red shoots across the river and into a horse chestnut tree; I haven’t seen a green woodpecker in a long time.

The melodies of blackbirds, robins and chaffinches fill the air. It is said that the blackbird stops singing in July and doesn’t start again until the following spring, so I try to appreciate it while it is here.

9.30pm: The swans have chosen to bed down at Station Yard tonight.

I can just make out two cygnets beneath a wing and one poking out from mum’s back. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to check numbers. As I leave, the mysterious presence of bats dash and dip across the water.

Thursday, May 28

As I walk upstream from the nest site, I watch at close range a rat and three female blackbirds play, “Who’s going to get this piece of bread?” After several attempts the outwitted rodent gives up and scampers back down the bank, ‘tail between his legs’. That was amusing! Late afternoon, a lone cygnet passes under the bridge by the co-op. The whereabouts of the adult swans isn’t known. There is talk that someone reported seeing a dead swan in the area. Perhaps this is why two cygnets have been given shelter at the wildlife rescue centre. The picture is unclear, but I am concerned for the whole family.

I look for the adults at the usual sites. Near Brokenborough, a dog walker tells me he hasn’t seen the swans for days; he comments on the presence of foxes in the area. I go further afield, reminding myself to be aware of all of nature; a buzzard flies commandingly above a cluster of trees, whilst closer to earth, gnats and other water loving insects, hover, spin and yo-yo above the river. No swans in sight.

8.45pm: A lone cygnet swims under the bridge by the fire station, calling repeatedly. A mallard escorts it part the way. I follow it downstream, hoping the parents are waiting for it at the nest. As it nears home, its calls become more intense. My heart sinks to see that the nest is empty! Where are mum and dad and the siblings? Ted has arrived. We search for the adults at Conygre Mead, but no sign of them. I go home, hoping for the best for this little brave heart.

9.45pm: Ted calls. He’s seen the adult swans on a bank not far from the nest! The lone cygnet went over the weir, and swam to them! Yes, he/she made it! As Ted left, they were all together in calm waters! I’m glad to know stranded cygnets can find their way back to mum and dad. Hopefully the remaining two can be reunited tomorrow. What a roller coaster ride it’s been today!

Friday, May 29

11am: At Station Yard I spot the Oak and Furrows wildlife rescue van. Ray has the two cygnets with him and hopes “if the conditions are right”, to reunite them with the family. I volunteer to help him locate the parents. After a short search, I find them feeding by a bank at Conygre Mead. I’m happy to see all three cygnets with them.

A kingfisher sweeps down the river at a rate of knots! A rare treat!

Ray is called out to an emergency, and says he’ll be back as soon as he can.

Later I receive a call from him to say that the swans were located on a bank in a garden near the Spice Merchant. The two cygnets were released without any problem and welcomed back into the family. We are all really pleased at such a good outcome after yesterday’s drama!

In the afternoon I go to Park Road, and sit by the bank. A shrill “tweet” draws my attention, then a brilliant flash of turquoise. Another kingfisher, I can hardly believe it, and so close!

6pm: An adult swan is resting on a bank, in a garden by the weir. I count the cygnets, only four!

The other parent is in shallow waters, looking right then left, and calling. I cannot hear the fifth cygnet’s cries, and wonder therefore if swans have a sense of numbers and know when one is missing.

I look around, but don’t see it. And it was all going so well! I’m hoping it will find its way back.

Saturday, May 30

I’m away from Malmesbury for the day. In a grassy area I’m looking at a large mole hill, and a smaller one nearby. Am I imagining it, or did that little mound of earth move?! I crouch down and keep my eyes fixed to the spot, and there it is again, a little tremor, as if the dead are stirring. I watch as granules of earth are disturbed and rearranged. The bump is warm to the touch. .. and again, another shudder! I hope for a little creature to pop its head up, but I have to leave. It’s presence is felt however, just doing what it is supposed to be doing, and it feels good to have witnessed it.

9.30pm: An adult hesitates on the edge of the weir. It peers over, tips forward, then pulls back. It tries again, shifting unsteadily, then eventually flaps its wings and goes down.

I locate the rest of the family under the little bridge. Only four cygnets; another has been lost then, what a shame.

For the family to get back to the nest, the adults must climb up a bank and call to their young. The babies on this occasion don’t respond. The pen plods back in and tries again. They can’t get out. Three attempts and they still haven’t made it. It’s getting dark. I decide to go home. They’ve managed it before, they’ll find a way again, or camp out elsewhere for the night.

Sunday, May 31

10am: I’m looking for the swans by abbey gardens. Something white catches my eye by the stepping stones. It’s the wrong shape, and too still for a swan. Some walkers stop to check it out; a birdwatcher confirms it to be a little egret; it stays there for a few minutes, then elegantly flaps its snowy wings and takes off, flies down the river and out of sight.

At Park Road I see a large heron on the river bank. There have been lots of sightings recently, at various locations.

It is nice to hear the wildlife stories, as I get chatting to people about the swans: Angie has been having terrible trouble with noisy blackbirds in her garden; at first she thought it was in response to a magpie bullying the baby, but now she thinks it’s the unruly youngster itself causing all the fuss! She concludes it must be a cuckoo!

One couple told me about an incident involving a pleasure boat in Bath. During a manoeuvre near a weir, some Canada goslings were scattered; one got separated from the siblings, and went on to follow the boat, much to the distress of the passengers, whose attempts to divert it away and back to the family, sadly failed.

8pm: On a still moonlit night, I watch the swans on shallow waters not far from the nest. Four cygnets look sleepy; two cosy on mum’s back. The family are winding down for the night. Little necks fall on white feathers, eyes close. As the light fades, the adults swim with all babies on their backs. The pen picks a large white feather from the water and swims with it in her mouth. How serene she looks in the moonlight; it is a beautiful and heart-warming vision.

Monday, June 1

What a wild day today! The water flow over the weir will be stronger than usual, but hopefully not lethal.

Late afternoon I see Ted at Station Yard. He reassures me that all four cygnets are alive and well. Earlier he watched the youngsters get a soaking on the bottom step of the weir. The pen and cob stayed above for quite some time. Perhaps it is daunting from a swan’s eye view, to have to negotiate the sheer drop, and the pull of water over a man-made structure.

When the parents hesitate, it can be frustrating for an onlooker to see the babies getting drenched, but as we have witnessed, they are resilient little things. Eventually mum descended impressively, Ted tells me, prompting the babies to move away from their showers to join her. The cygnets are growing slowly but noticeably, and are venturing a little further away from mum and dad.

So at the end of the third week, over half of the cygnets have perished. The four remaining babies are getting stronger. What will the future hold I wonder.

It has been a privilege to have watched them get this far.