Murmurings of content

Elephant in the room- I felt the blog needed a rebrand, fresh coat of paint. Now that you can detect and indeed explain the smell of freshly washed clothes, I can get back to business and at least aim to post more than once per quarter in 2019. Birds, beasts, books, Black Shuck: expect all, and then some.

I do enjoy Betwixtmas. Drams of Glen Keith, smashing through a new Shardlake novel and almost aimless wanderings about the patch. Family outing to Wheatfen today, pleased to note two feeding stations are attracting the attention of the gregarious Tit families including Marsh and Coal. A Nuthatch's machine gun-like call broke through the grey and a pair of Great-spotted Woodpecker engaged in a bit of will they, won't they courtship. On a run through the village yesterday I heard drumming, early maybe but indicative of the mild weather. After successfully test-driving some Christmas clothes, we retired to Coldham Hall where I can announce with surprise I enjoyed a pint of seasonal ale. Woodforde's Tinsel Toes put all memory of the awful Rocking Rudolf to rest, a wholesome rich ruby coloured drink not too distant in tone from a mild.

I plan to avoid going over the obvious on this page next year, seems as if there is very little point merely expanding on what I have already Tweeted. The blog needs to stand alone. However, one glance over the shoulder if I may. After an Autumn marked with two each of Yellow-browed Warbler and Hawfinch on the coast, the patch left it late to clinch highlight of the year. The 'distinct' cloud in the photo below is a murmuration of Starlings. This left me with so many questions. Why here? For how long? Who decides? Driving home I ran a few popular theories by nobody in particular. In the end, I decided the unknowns are often the best bits about the natural world.

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Grey Phalarope- a new patch bird

The 7th of April was another bitterly cold Spring day, hats and gloves in prime position on pegs and in bags ready to be deployed. A few brave Garganey have been reported north of the river, but it was a bird from the north itself that had me rushing for the thermals and the telescope late in the day. I was thankful for the local Whatsapp group who were quick to report that a Grey Phalarope had been seen on Rockland Broad. This tiny Wader would have come in on the northerlies over the last few days, although to grace one of the broads is a real surprise, since most stick pretty close to the coast before moving on. Indeed, my experience of the birds has usually been on a sea watch in the Autumn, waves crashing and foam flying, my eyes straining to pick them out as they fly low just above the surf. They are fantastic birds, and now one was here on the patch. I had a brief panic when I realised my scope was in my car at the garage (thankfully I do have a much older spare) but once th...

A weekend to live long in the memory

Saturday 12th, I picked up Connor around 6.30am and we headed to Waxham with migrant hunting in mind. It was clear that the NW blow and rain had dumped many common migrants. Every bush had a Robin, some more than one. There were also almost equal numbers of Song Thrush and Blackbird. As the sun rose, slowly more birds became active. Chiffchaffs, Blackcaps and Goldcrest and ticked and tacked from cover. Superb stuff! Overhead, Brambling and Redpoll were moving, and some did rest long enough for decent views. Heading out into the dunes towards the pipe dump, we encountered a female Redstart and a Woodcock on route. Still, birds were arriving including more Thrushes and even a few Skylark. Without much success around the pipe dump itself (a Robin with a sore throat gave us a headache for a while) we headed back to the car and onto Horsey. Although there were less birds around by mid morning, little clumps of cover were alive with activity. In the same patch of scrub and pines that last ...

Claxton-on-sea!

Although it was not quite the Christmas we wanted here in the valley, the rain has bought its own gift. A grim vision of the future, perhaps. But right now, the patch is peaking and is alive with birds, and for that I am thankful. On Christmas eve, it was a job to navigate away from the village due to standing water that had left abandoned cars and undelivered presents in its wake. The rain had been persistent and unforgiving, the ground, saturated. Over on the marsh, where there had once been a muddy puddle amongst the pasture, a city had sprung from the leak, with a plethora of new occupants noisily laying claim to a patch of sodden marsh. Wigeon and Black-headed Gulls in their thousands now wheeled and whistled over and amongst the newly formed pools, accompanied by smaller numbers of Teal and Shoveler. A flock of two hundred-strong Lapwing enjoyed feeding on the less damp spots where green grass was still exposed, and thrown in for good measure have been a couple of Ruff, the ...

Notes from the valley

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