Wildlife of Germany Hidden Nature of the Leine Valley Full Documentary

Surprisingly wild. The valley of the river Leina. From the fairy tale Marienburg castle to the royal gardens of Hanover. A diverse countryside where wildlife thrives. A winter morning in northern Germany. European bison have been living in this forest since 1928. The continent's largest land mammal is bred here to save it from extinction. Once the kings of Hanover and the German emperor used this area as their hunting grounds. An impressive rock wall has encircled the range for 200 years. 16 kilometers long. A unique cultural monument. The entrance to the forest is equally impressive. Around Springer castle the emperor's hunts took place until as late as 1912. The woodland lies in a hilly area only 20 kilometers from the city of Hanover. Some of the many streams crisscrossing the region flow into the Leina. During the first nights of spring female fire salamanders make their way to the spawning grounds. Once the salamanders poison was used in attempts on the lives of noblemen. They decorated the coats of arms of French kings and are symbols for both fire and cold. Common toads also come out of their winter hiding places. During mating season male toads grab at anything that moves. Maybe it's the warning colors or the poisonous skin secretion of the salamander. Finally the male toad gets it. She will never be his mate. The female salamander reaches the stream without the pesky toad. She looks for a site where the water flows more quietly. As soon as she has located a suitable site it all happens very quickly. Unlike most other amphibians salamanders give birth to live young. The egg sacs release small larvae. Something that has hardly ever been filmed. The mother has given birth to three young. During the following nights she will return bearing up to 70 larvae. Just a few kilometers away the Leina passes in front of a romantic backdrop. A castle straight from a fairy tale. The Marienburg. Often compared favorably to the famous Neuschwanstein. King George V gave it to his Marie as a gift a good 160 years ago. Below the castle in the Leina valley the royal love finds its wild equivalent. Mute swans. In Great Britain they've enjoyed royal status since 1186. Even now all wild swans legally belong to the queen. The courtship follows a strict ritual. Movement is perfectly synchronized before any mating takes place. If a rival turns up all etiquette goes out the window. The pair does not tolerate any other swans in its territory. Raised up feathers are a clear signal. A duel is inevitable. The territorial male dominates and chases the intruder away. The courtship of the swans is not just a symbol of beauty and faithfulness. It also stands for an idol more and more of which is being lost. People have closed in on nature. More than half of the region is covered by intensively farmed land. Bushes and hedgerows almost nowhere to be seen. Where they grow they offer hiding places for an animal that was once brought to central Europe by the Romans. The pheasant. Hedges provide cover from predators. But pheasants also like the big stage. Fields and farmlands where they mark their territories. If an unfamiliar male enters the area there's no way around a fight. Threatening poses serve to intimidate the opponent. Take a step back and you lose. Encounters like this are the exception. Pheasants have become scarce in the Leina Valley. Variably structured land with places to hide. That's what many species require for their survival. In the former emperor's hunting territory the forest floor is warmed by the spring sun. For the piglets it's the signal to risk a first excursion. The young wild boars are two weeks old. They explore everything that they can reach with their snouts. Their mother already left the sounder before giving birth to the piglets alone. In just a few days she will rejoin the extended family with her new offspring. Until then the sow shows her young where to find the best food. But for now her teats are still the center of their universe and a necessary rich source of energy. When the sow has had enough the forest offers enough variety for the piglets. While playing the young ones learn some of the most important lessons of their lives. But when the mother calls everything else is quickly forgotten. Early on the hierarchy forms among the suckling piglets. The mother tolerates no wrangling. Every piglet knows where to find its own teat. Drinking a lot, growing fast and exploring the forest. That is the piglet's world. Spring finally brings the sun and warmer temperatures. First flowers provide splashes of color. Fumewort makes a start. Soon afterwards ramsons bloom releasing an intensive odor giving the plant its other name wild garlic. As soon as enough flowers bloom the banquet is declared open. After winter the bumblebee queen is the solitary survivor of a whole colony. Fumewort offers plenty of nectar at the bottom of its calyx. However the bumblebee can't reach the sweet meal with its short proboscis. But she knows a trick or two. She bites a hole at the base of the calyx and steals the nectar without pollinating the flower. Afterwards she transports her treasure to her underground kingdom. Here she has built barrel-shaped cells for nectar pollen and her brood. The first generation has already hatched. The workers diligently carry pollen packages on their legs carefully stowing them away. They provide food and constantly build new cells. Over the summer the bumblebee colony can swell to around 500 individuals. The much larger queen stays in nest. She is the only member of the colony that's able to lay eggs. The valuable offspring is sealed in by her personally. Afterwards the workers take care of the eggs and larvae. Every bumblebee knows exactly what to do and where it needs to be. When the young ones hatch they are soft and colorless. Shortly after they're already heading towards the exit to leave the nest to collect nectar like the other workers. Their first excursion is something special. The young bumblebees dance above the entrance for a moment. In this way they memorize the nest's location. From now on they will always find their way back. Until 250 years ago the hills were characterized by pastoral forests. Cattle and goats ate the entire undergrowth. Often only ancient oaks remained. On 20 hectares conservationists are now turning back the clock. With the help of Scottish highland cattle they're recreating the species-rich forests. A hot spot also for amphibians. This stream is the hunting range of young fire salamanders. Amphipods are not yet on their menu option. Smaller prey can also be found in the cold clear water. They just need to be quick enough. Everything that can be subdued is eaten. The caddis fly larvae are out of reach. They live in self-built tubes that protect them from the voracious salamanders. The young amphibians spend up to six months in the little stream before they leave as fully grown adults, disappearing into the undergrowth just as their mothers did. Early summer in the Leina Valley. On the lakes the swan offspring have seen the light of day. Not yet as elegant as the parents, more cute and fluffy. Both adults take care of the young. Sometimes the chicks hitch a ride on the backs of the adults taking a little rest. It's the best way to get to the best feeding areas safely and quickly. The adults kick down with their large webbed feet, swirling up food for their offspring. Mute swans mainly feed on vegetation but also take on snails, worms and mussels. For almost 160 years the Marienborg Castle has overlooked the Leina Valley. The Welfs, Europe's oldest dynasty that is interwoven with the British royal family, used it as their summer residence. King George V ordered its construction over a period of 10 years. Unfortunately his queen Marie only enjoyed this offering briefly. After just a year in the castle she was forced to flee from the Prussians, ending up in exile in Austria. During that time the world was a divided place. Royalty was enthroned on the top of the hills while the common people lived in the valleys. The farmers maintained their customs like hunting with raptors. The large peregrine falcon was reserved for nobility. The peasantry had to be satisfied with its smaller relative, the common kestrel. Even today the poor man's falcon often lives under the roofs of farmhouses On the lookout for their favorite prey, field mice, kestrels have perfected hovering. Seemingly hanging in the air, scanning the ground below. This method is far more energy intensive than hunting from a perch, but it's worth it. Common kestrels are successful hunters. A kestrel requires three mice a day, but now the female hunts only on rare occasions. Soon the male will need to provide a double ration of food. His partner has laid four eggs. From now on she will hardly leave the nest for a month. Common kestrels don't have it easy in the Leina Valley. Over half of the area is agricultural land. Most fields are under intensive cultivation. Along the river it's more variable. Flower strips planted by farmers attract insects. Among them also the workers from the bumblebee colony. When the flowers of the common poppy open, they are the first to collect the nectar and pollen. And the kestrels? Waiting under the farmhouse roof are four hungry beaks. The chicks are three days old. Until they fledge they need to be fed for a month. For the male this is the start of a strenuous time. From now on he will have to be on permanent lookout for prey. Some rodents like the common vole have experienced population explosions in the dry spring. They live underground in family groups, well protected from hunters like kestrels. Between their bolt holes they have trodden little paths. Mouse urine has dried out the grass. These are the signs the kestrel is looking for. Every two hours the mice get hungry to feed on herbs, grass, clover and dandelions. They need to come to the surface. This is the moment the kestrel has been waiting for. But not every hunt is successful. Finally, the call they have longed for. The chicks now also wake up, loudly demanding their food. The female receives the mouse outside the nest. During the first days the male is not tolerated near the offspring. The older they get the more food they require. A family with four chicks eats 18 voles a day. This however is no threat to the rodent population. After the meal it's time for a nap. The chicks are growing rapidly. Already the mother can't get all her young under her wings to keep them warm. South of Hanover the Leine River is squeezed into an artificial bed in many areas. Little space remains for nature. This only changes around 15 kilometers from Hanover. From here on the old Leine riverbed winds through the country, parallel to the Leine. The nature reserve is an important habitat for many animals. Above and below the water, 14 fish species thrive here. The silvery sun bleak are the smallest. The tiny carp relatives feed on plankton, but also mosquitoes live in danger when they are around. The larvae just below the water surface are welcome prey. When they hunt sun bleak leave the safety of their swarm, shooting up and then quickly heading down again. In stretches where the river is still in its natural state, the fish attract the attention of a lightning-fast predator. It's so stunning that it's sometimes called the flying jewel. For Roman and Greek poets, kingfishers were enchanted queens. But it's likely that the colors are just good camouflage. From above, predators struggle to see the blue back against the water, while the fish can hardly make out the orange belly against the sky. The kingfisher misses nothing. Water ripples give away movement below. After stunning the fish, the bird swallows it head first, ensuring no scales get caught in the throat. Between the plants, a male sun bleak watches over its clutch, tirelessly fanning its offspring with fresh, oxygen-rich water. It guards the valuable eggs, shining like silver pearls on a chain. After 10 days, the tiny youngsters hatch. Sun bleak and kingfisher rely on natural riverbanks. Here, the hunter from above finds enough prey. The kingfisher's hunt lasts less than a second. Its precision can only truly be appreciated when the action is seen 40 times slower than its actual speed. A masterly performance. Even in the nearby city of Hanover, the lino is still surprisingly wild. Here lives an animal that had disappeared from the area for centuries. Its wooden lodge leaves no doubt. The beaver is back. The beaver mother left the lodge at dusk. Purely vegetarian, beavers search for juicy herbs, but also eat the bark of trees and young branches. An adult beaver needs 1,000 calories a day. It needs to be active for most of the night. Around the city of Hanover alone, six beaver families have taken up residence. Around 150 animals have moved into the region since 2005. A true success story for nature conservation. The young beavers only leave the lodge in the evenings. Grooming is very important for big and small. For a long time, beavers were hunted for their pelts. Their densely packed hairs form a fantastic insulating layer. The Catholic Church declared them to be fish. This meant they could be eaten during Lent, not only by monks. This nearly caused their extinction. Today, they are strictly protected. From the beavers, the royal gardens of Herrenhausen are just a stone's throw away. The Great Garden is among Europe's most important baroque gardens. Its construction started in 1665. Since then, it has often been restructured. Special sections, such as the Rose Garden, were developed. Summer in Hanover begins with the rose bloom in the gardens of the Herrenhausen Palace. In the Leine Valley, the mute swan offspring have made great progress. Grey balls of feathers have grown into handsome teenagers. Until the coming spring, they will stay together, only then taking on the elegant white of their parents. Many animals survive the summer in the shade of the forest. Along the bison park wall, ferns fight their way through tiny gaps. The kings of the forest, the mighty bison, begin the day with an extensive sand bath. Grooming that repels parasites and pesky flies. At least for a short while. The herd has grown. This calf is just a week old. The higher the sun rises, the more its willingness for action disappears. The only choice is to wait patiently for cooler days. There's a lot more excitement around the kestrel nest. The young are about to fledge. Their parents no longer bring them food. Instead, they eat where they can be seen by their offspring. If it doesn't want to starve, the young kestrel now needs to fly. Tirelessly, the adults entice them with a promising meal. The first flight ends in the nearest tree, but a start has been made. The rest is a matter of practice to become as perfect as the parents. Under the leafy roof, in and around the bison park, it stays bearable even in the midday heat. The sounder of wild boar is searching for fresh, juicy shoots and herbs. The piglets have grown quickly. Some time ago, they've changed to solid food. Despite the shade, the family has only one thing on its mind. Off to the pool. The pigs regularly visit puddles and pools. Wallowing not only cools them down, water and mud penetrate deep into the fur. This ensures that the animals get rid of their annoying parasites. The rest of the day is spent by the family, sleeping in the shade. The lake-dotted landscape in the south of Hanover attracts a rarity. The Eurasian rhein-egg. It prefers the drier areas between the lakes. Like its relatives, the Eurasian rhein-egg prefers the dry areas. Like its relatives, the woodpeckers, the rhein-egg has a long, sticky tongue, to collect ants and their pupae. Throughout Germany, these birds have become rare. Around the Leine, on the other hand, their population is increasing. The first days of late summer bring fog. It gives the region its very own magic. The bison niddle is deceptive. The whole herd is restless and gathers around. The animals are nervous. A young female puts the rank order to the test. It's something the leader of the herd cannot tolerate. Suddenly, the whole herd is on the move. Bison can run as fast as horses. The calves must take care not to get caught up between the giants. Status fights like these are rare among European bison. When one 350 kilogram body slams into another, it gets serious. For today, a show of strength is enough. The senior cow has consolidated her position. Autumn in the hills near the Leine valley. The beaches in the bison park show the last burst of color of the year. For the wild boar, the breeding season begins. The first cold days in late autumn are the boar's starting signal. Through the forest spreads the smell of testosterone. The sows notice the boar long before he approaches. He wants to impress at the show. Therefore, he wallows in the mud and sprinkles himself with urine. The smell makes him irresistible to the females. Jaw wetting is another imposing feature. Constant chewing produces foamy saliva. It's meant to keep opponents away. Therefore, he rubs the saliva onto a tree to signal that a tough adversary is in charge here. The males are awe-inspiring, up to 1.8 meters long, weighing as much as 200 kilograms. The proximity of the boar causes restlessness in the sounder. At first, the giant doesn't seem to impress the females. They ignore him. The sows are the ones that determine the time and place of mating. He approaches cautiously, presenting his flank. Suddenly, a second boar approaches. Now he needs to defend his position. The intruder gives up. The rank order has been clarified. The victor returns to the females. During the coming weeks, he will mate with as many sows in the group as possible. For the boars, this is the hardest time of the year. The mating season stretches over three months into January. Only then does calm return to the forest. The wildlife along the liner is full of surprises. Just like the region where they live. With glittering flying jewels. And majestic giants. Regardless of the season, the valley of the romantic river has a lot to offer. A fairy tale castle included.