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A change is as good as a rest

Casting my mind back to February 14th, survival rather than love was in the air for the birds of the Yare Valley. Tramping across the Surlingham corner of the patch, I recorded 8 Woodcock within 2 hours. These Cryptic Waders had been forced out of hiding, and even amongst the woodland floor they were easier than usual to spot against a backdrop of snow. The small pine wood opposite the church and adjacent to the parking area held at least 2 birds, creeping around and huddled up low to the ground. A further investigation of likely habitat around Church Marsh and I was presented with 6 more, a record count for me in a single day. I hope they made it through the trial sent from the north in the form of ice and snow. A Great Egret exploring a dyke at Postwick must've been thinking twice about the whole range expansion thing. However, a small Squadron of Bewick's Swan and a single Goosander over Claxton fitted the mise en scene nicely during this period. 

That image and that day feel like aeons ago, as I look out of the window at blue sky, blossom and Bees. Although, perhaps this is merely fools Spring, with the temperature to set to dip below double figures later this week. Whatever the case, it has been a joy to finally see family at the same time as the world is coming back to life. Chiffchaff have been singing for at least 2 weeks, and Blackcap have joined them, with 2 at Rockland and 1 at Surlingham yesterday. I was desperate to catch up with a Spring migrant or two before April commences, just to feel like I had gotten the jump on the season. Not only was I thwarted in that mini-quest, but instead I turned up a Brambling at Rockland Broad, wheezing away from a bunch of Sallows. It was 20 degrees celsius, but with that sound I was taken back to those tough Winter days of mud and cold and emptiness. The Brambling would soon be gone, heading north or more likely north east to Scandinavia. With it, the remainder of our Winter wildfowl, although the masses that spent the winter on the flooded pools created on Claxton Marsh have long gone, disappearing after the thaw. So quickly they went, like in The Snowman when the boy comes downstairs the morning after to find his creation and friend has melted. 

A lot of movement, and a lot of change these past 2 months. I have been out in the valley eyeing up a plot of land for a potential smallholding, and the national lockdown has come to an end. This weekend, I will conduct the first of the breeding bird surveys, which like everything else had the kiboshes put on them last year. I cannot wait to get out onto the marsh and welcome back the Warblers. Added to that, my Emperor Moths are due to emerge any day now, and I have already found 3/4 Dark-edged Bee Flys on Primrose, Cellandine and Red-dead Nettle. Spring will plough on, regardless of a cold Easter weekend. 

Finally, a look back at the land that was, and a thought for the Woodcock.






 

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