AS the breeding season kicks in, animals and birds have just one thing on their mind – attracting a mate. For wildlife lovers, this presents a wealth of opportunities to see some amazing action.

Among the most incredible courtship displays you can see at this time of year is the “reed dance”, performed by great crested grebes. This beautiful display is carefully choreographed and involves head shaking, diving, ritualised preening, and some serious feather fluffing.

It begins as early as January, when both male and female transform their plumage from a drab off-white and muddy matte brown to his-and-hers matching breeding finery of a double crest and orange and black ruff.

Grebe courtships continue into February and early March. You don’t have to go far into the countryside to see this spectacle. I watched it beside an ornamental lake one time.

First, the male caught three small fish and ate them whole. Then, he caught a huge nine inch one, which he gleefully presented to his mate. He was showing her that he could easily provide for her and their family together, given the chance.

She was clearly impressed with this engagement present and to my amazement swallowed the fish whole. She had found her match.

Simultaneously they turned to face each other, held their heads high and, with their crests and facial ruffs erect and extended, started to wave their heads from side to side repeatedly.

As one bird looked one way the other looked in the opposite direction with precision-timing – it was as if they were too timid to look each other in the eye. This “face-off” dancing went on for nearly a minute and was followed by a moment of tender, ritualistic preening.

Each bird took turns to select a long feather from their back and extend it out to the side in a perfect arch, as if casually grooming. The synchronisation was so perfect that it was almost as if they were working as one. As I watched, the male dived down, just below the water’s surface, creating an impressive bow wave from which he emerged, just as it broke, by her side. Talk about cool.

Duly impressed by his antics, she greeted him with wings splayed, head held back and calling, as if she were cheering. He went one better and finished his performance with an upright dance, effortlessly treading water in front of her.

More head-wagging and preening continued throughout the day. But just as I was about to pack up my cameras and head home, it seemed that the moment I had been waiting for; the crowning glory of the water courtship, the reed dance, was about to begin.

I held my breath as the two grebes swam away from each other and dived down simultaneously, only to reappear on the surface at the same time. The male was holding a clump of weed plucked from the bottom of the lake and I had my camera poised.

But then there was a wobble. The female, I noticed, had been distracted while she was under and had caught a fish. The male rushed towards her, weed to the ready, his head and neck low in the water.

Then he too realised that she was holding a fish in her beak and not the clump of weed he was hoping for. He dropped his weed instantly, almost embarrassed that he had misread the situation.

That was it, the moment had passed and there was no further ‘dances’ that day. I returned early the next morning only to find the pair already in the final throes of their reed dance.

The climax of these prenuptials involved both birds treading water bolt upright breast to breast with beaks full of weed while also shaking their heads from side to side. And there they were doing this, but I had only just arrived and had no time to get my camera out.

The reed dance only lasts for a few seconds, but it something that will stay in my memory forever – even if I missed the chance to photograph it.

You can see my painting of the grebes that I watched in my gallery, which is open every day from 9.30am to 4.30pm and from 10.30am on weekends.