tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65375593124260556332024-02-19T08:03:33.584-08:00Notes from the valleyJimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.comBlogger387125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-14105740363522227842021-04-13T12:30:00.010-07:002021-04-13T12:45:04.740-07:00Grey Phalarope- a new patch bird<p>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. </p><p>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 the home front was settled I was rapidly making headway down the track to the broad.</p><p>In spite of the cold, Swallows and my first House and Sand Martins darted overhead as I walked, no doubt wishing they had stayed on the continent for just a little longer. No birds sang. In fact, very little else was moving. This was early April, but the feeling was Baltic. On approaching the broad, some local birders were already there, as was the bird. Phew! Although distant, I watched as the bird swam back and forth, the occasional spin noted as it hunted for food. In flight, the strong white wing-bar was the stand-out feature, visible as its wings drooped and hung just above the water, not unlike a large Bat species. I soon found myself on my own watching the bird, barely even noticing the feeling in my hands disappearing faster than the light. I was prepared to put up with that for a while longer; this was one of those patch moments to savour. It has been a while since I have seen a new species on the patch, and I am not sure I will ever see a Phalarope spinning and Martins hawking over a Norfolk broad at the same time again. </p><p>Jumping forward a week, and it is ever so slightly warmer. I heard a Blackcap warble ever so briefly in the back garden today, and down the marsh a Sedge Warbler sang proudly, deservedly laying claim to the best spot as the first returning bird here. A Red Kite has come back to stake its claim on the land, a conservation success with a home for life in the village. Walking home, a clatter of Pigeon wings announced a Peregrine prospecting a meal, strength in numbers saved the day on this occasion. <br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As well as a moody picture of Rockland Broad, I have attached the poster advertising the AGM of the South Yare Wildlife Group. If you would like to tune in, drop me a comment here or email me jimbradley.bradleyATgmail.com (The AT is of course @, this format just avoids some Russian bot spamming me).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hgKwl-RGCFIZ1EuKl8kZs8Yk-m79ON8UcfJ-3xID3WtIYP6MLvFqxmWijIVkcnvVfgrL4_HYc1hlGvXsPezL_LHBEJ2nbY7l9NfiAvf7Fb6tYbjehIQpF5N8VN6ZXr0RZPqoZN4WQCkQ/s559/agm.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="397" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5hgKwl-RGCFIZ1EuKl8kZs8Yk-m79ON8UcfJ-3xID3WtIYP6MLvFqxmWijIVkcnvVfgrL4_HYc1hlGvXsPezL_LHBEJ2nbY7l9NfiAvf7Fb6tYbjehIQpF5N8VN6ZXr0RZPqoZN4WQCkQ/s320/agm.png" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_IECwHOCHG_HlZt3Sk5K5yE2_PbrzWp284SKr0WWmHeN6CFN0YPne0Q6M-k9HwNghxVoI97jdExFwFbokj4taMynk54-zhdQwzEWGj0qIP6GeM_PPGbnzMFcYCPUG56bjKBPBbCcm6PA/s2048/20210407_185552+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_IECwHOCHG_HlZt3Sk5K5yE2_PbrzWp284SKr0WWmHeN6CFN0YPne0Q6M-k9HwNghxVoI97jdExFwFbokj4taMynk54-zhdQwzEWGj0qIP6GeM_PPGbnzMFcYCPUG56bjKBPBbCcm6PA/s320/20210407_185552+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-58178549357842078762021-03-31T01:11:00.009-07:002021-03-31T10:17:01.563-07:00A change is as good as a rest <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">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. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Finally, a look back at the land that was, and a thought for the Woodcock.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHZ0oUoMwUkwhCvvpjO812m_xfRQLI7N2dBpSqcQMIMpa4rxZr5DVg0i8csj38mPRoo3kzwH1DHTg9SpcknvuOqINtzZoJIAiPD_RRhdYiZfaF63mz7YbFsWk0NmyRJZlpUA7CqZOgGW4/s2048/20210109_073038.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJHZ0oUoMwUkwhCvvpjO812m_xfRQLI7N2dBpSqcQMIMpa4rxZr5DVg0i8csj38mPRoo3kzwH1DHTg9SpcknvuOqINtzZoJIAiPD_RRhdYiZfaF63mz7YbFsWk0NmyRJZlpUA7CqZOgGW4/s320/20210109_073038.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKqVGwtyiG5Kr6dHB1nniSXLzO1yMrFi8Dpsn46EaUfptabIehKSD75MUNDdgdSHHik_mVKAbxrchpCtUnqdXyukZ2H2YB8BRjCZCSYBlCSVf_Z4mMIroFbG7eZmJGh5RNPk1E8JUMk1Vw/s2048/20210208_105425.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKqVGwtyiG5Kr6dHB1nniSXLzO1yMrFi8Dpsn46EaUfptabIehKSD75MUNDdgdSHHik_mVKAbxrchpCtUnqdXyukZ2H2YB8BRjCZCSYBlCSVf_Z4mMIroFbG7eZmJGh5RNPk1E8JUMk1Vw/s320/20210208_105425.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-58582950960375752232021-01-26T04:31:00.001-08:002021-01-26T04:31:36.937-08:00A mole from Duncton?<p> I've had Moles on the mind of late. As a child, I eagerly read books about anthropomorphic animals, as many as I could get my hands on. The Redwall books by Brian Jacques were a nice compliment to the embryonic stages of tabletop wargaming with my father, pitting Badger against Weasel (and many more besides) in a medieval-type high fantasy setting. Watership Down followed, as did of course Wind in the Willows. When Moles did feature, invariably they were worriers, loners, reverent, led by 'better' animals. </p><p>Earlier this week, I finally finished reading Duncton Wood by William Horwood, a feat I was unable to accomplish as a child. Perhaps I was put off by the intimidating size of the book and the adult themes inside. It is a stone-cold classic (pun intended for those who have read the novel), that follows the lives of a group of Moles living in the Duncton Wood system. Their stories of love and loss soon stretch to other systems, culminating in an unforgettable trek to Siabod, one-time home of the tyrant Mandrake. Horwood has a beautiful grasp of the countryside, speculating that Fritillaries may flutter close to the top of certain peaks, observing the Curlews who live alongside The Marshenders, and finding comfort and security in the Beech woodland that the Moles call home. I am aware that there are 2 follow-up books to complete that Duncton trilogy, these too are massive tomes and I feel like I need to step away from this world for a while before returning. </p><p>I cannot think of a creature whose presence around us is so pronounced, so obvious, yet so rarely is it seen. The photos below of my garden show some recent excavations. Indeed, the Moles have lived here longer than us and their lineage will far outdate our time here, and that of the next residents. Last summer I recall watching a mound crumble from the top, hoping for a flash of pink in the form of a nose or a foot. 30 minutes later, my daughter and I were disappointed. I drew myself away from the mound, and took to counting the number of hills and mole signs in the garden. 20. Yet, I have only ever seen a Mole alive twice. One was at Pyke's Meadow in Stowmarket, so we must be talking 25 years ago or more. The other, I cannot recall the location. Last year, I marvelled with a hint of sadness at a recently deceased individual along Mill Lane, a Marshender for sure. Going back a further 12 Months, and another found dead at Ashwellthorpe, Lower Wood. Who knows what befell these 2 who had bravely ventured above ground. </p><p>I am always pleased to see a mole hill. A sign that they are alive and well, going about their business in a subterranean world of darkness and worms. The soil in our garden is light and sandy, strong in alkalinity. I wonder how far the system here stretches and whether the garden Moles have any contact with The Marshenders. Questions that will never be answered unless a local Mole is satellite tagged. Would that work at 6 feet under?!</p><p>Worth a read is this article by the sustainable food trust, who advocate a rewilding of the soil. Good for Worms, Moles, and ultimately what goes on above their heads. </p><p><a href="https://sustainablefoodtrust.org/articles/rewilding-mind-body-soil/">https://sustainablefoodtrust.org/articles/rewilding-mind-body-soil/</a></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCXAOMAePzj2NE46F9ji9xCd6FMqOYTbHY7pajr6-MUxOHPP6ZNzlG8EgLf1MvltumhohXCJ0xl9xKQiYb9TPCRDNilYX4V7DEy72C6yBo_LqNn2pXjyOI-XC7T4WZiFh1Fo6eY-0FPoU/s2048/20210126_112219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCXAOMAePzj2NE46F9ji9xCd6FMqOYTbHY7pajr6-MUxOHPP6ZNzlG8EgLf1MvltumhohXCJ0xl9xKQiYb9TPCRDNilYX4V7DEy72C6yBo_LqNn2pXjyOI-XC7T4WZiFh1Fo6eY-0FPoU/s320/20210126_112219.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQDiO7qkRdZSOTXvRq-YYYZhrFpNNviBTZKisphIc4FACXlo3YPMvArh6R1FmVsUsdL7sSwGW6VTTYkkW1K5wEWolifuWRqOR_hQsTiI0TRrkx9JYzfSt5HoMxFPlWNMvU1_V7Ehws4ct/s2048/20210126_112213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNQDiO7qkRdZSOTXvRq-YYYZhrFpNNviBTZKisphIc4FACXlo3YPMvArh6R1FmVsUsdL7sSwGW6VTTYkkW1K5wEWolifuWRqOR_hQsTiI0TRrkx9JYzfSt5HoMxFPlWNMvU1_V7Ehws4ct/s320/20210126_112213.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElLucZCchF0b5Ypo6duuWYgwohHLBy2KgDniQWDzX1RSgh7ZEhCb3W5wTapEVVj-jeuTw4I0VZ5G9IJ2Pj7zaI6o4L2dAGCNCNJ4hZKIrggieujK5mfANjLieVBW_Q5kMN3HfmUT6bpdo/s2048/20210126_112203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElLucZCchF0b5Ypo6duuWYgwohHLBy2KgDniQWDzX1RSgh7ZEhCb3W5wTapEVVj-jeuTw4I0VZ5G9IJ2Pj7zaI6o4L2dAGCNCNJ4hZKIrggieujK5mfANjLieVBW_Q5kMN3HfmUT6bpdo/s320/20210126_112203.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-67770591175159730832021-01-03T11:25:00.002-08:002021-01-03T13:34:44.679-08:00Claxton-on-sea!<p> 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 first on the deck I have had this side of the river. With this watery metropolis seeming chaotic with sound, some law and order was needed. The raptors have obliged. As many as five Marsh Harriers patrol at once, with Barn Owl, Kestrel and Buzzard all on call if needed. One false move, and the Wigeon scramble for take-off, a loud hum as their wingbeats collide with the sky. It really is fantastic stuff! Has the patch ever been better? I tried an evening visit to compare, and with added backdrop of satellite roosting Corvids, surely there had never been a more pertinent time to be here, in this place, with this much life. I stood and recalled patch highlights- a good run of Waders at Church Marsh, Black Tern and Little Gull together at Rockland Broad, the odd scarcity. Time will tell how I look back on this period, but typing this I cannot imagine this spectacle being bettered. Peak patch.</p><p><span> <span> Christmas passed peacefully and quietly for the three of us. We agreed anything would be better than last year, and so it was. We went where the days took us, which was often to Hardley. At least two Short-eared Owls are resident as winter visitors, my daughter flushing one that unbeknownst to us must have been roosting on the ground less than twenty yards away. It has been a privilige to watch the Owls this winter, especially since they seem thin on the ground. Not only that, the people here seem decent, familiar faces after a while who come with no listing or twitching agenda. The locals stop to talk, fascinated that their seldom-walked corner of South Norfolk should be getting this much attention.</span></span><br /></p><p><span><span><span> Back at home, during another firepit and grill evening, two Woodcock blazed over the garden when the moon was milky and large, to their liking. Siskin and Redpoll are semi-regular calling over the marsh, and I bought home a perfectly intact Chinese Water Deer Skull. A victim of the winter and all that it brings. </span><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span><span><span> I took a break from Twitter before Christmas, and that seems to have continued into 2021. I haven't really missed it. Perhaps unsurprisingly, timelines had become toxic places and the experience was very different to when I started. Plenty of those 'Gotcha!' types around. One, who had apparently been reading my blog, proceeded to criticise, had the situation explained, he whinged some more, and then blocked me. I was dumbfounded. How was I the bad guy here? This cancel culture is dangerous and an easy way out for those who do not wish to listen, concede, and offer a way forward. I have a voice, I will use it, but seeing folk disappear on holiday during a pandemic, or twitch a Waxwing, does make me wonder if there is any hope or point! Anyway, at risk of getting dragged in/down by it all, a hiatus was needed and I feel better off for it. I will probably link this blog there just to remind folk I'm not dead, the patch is great etc but in the long term, I am more productive away from the platform so will check in little and rarely for now. I read a great piece by Tom Cox recently, he has left Twitter. Of course he puts it far more eloquently than I can: "</span></span></span></span><i>To me, Twitter's speed, bile, backpatting rewards for negativity and kneejerk opinions, its violation of attention spans, makes it the worst side of social media. So even when it’s given me moments of quasi-pleasure, I feel that by devoting time to it I’m being a traitor to myself, as it’s so at odds with the way I want to live". </i>That gets straight to the nub of it. </p><p><span> To conclude, some photos of the new nature reserve that has arrived on my doorstep.</span><br /></p><p><span><span><span><span><span> </span></span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1Vg-z37Fi1Mn4yl3pryNST_72PcU7cCRViDa13beCxbsp8gk2M8tZoN4Eby2jjLmsbKhXeZ1JhWjWblnub7SjuPD6eB3LqXdnu6mm723dVQrBsdOBNfNxRmieCFWNg8UtcxQwuHHS6Ct/s2048/20210103_083141.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1Vg-z37Fi1Mn4yl3pryNST_72PcU7cCRViDa13beCxbsp8gk2M8tZoN4Eby2jjLmsbKhXeZ1JhWjWblnub7SjuPD6eB3LqXdnu6mm723dVQrBsdOBNfNxRmieCFWNg8UtcxQwuHHS6Ct/s320/20210103_083141.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuxzQRMTiFDwODY16HwL69kfUKlnaezWpkY21TL7HjxczMvhEUzS-9ArUu-eK53NM05fx-8e3N6pL4Nwb8JitVNXZ4EFZlbYB8-pkBEiy7TKJLtZSy5lpVmPystkYxG08F6TgqP8N77tvY/s2048/20210103_082956.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuxzQRMTiFDwODY16HwL69kfUKlnaezWpkY21TL7HjxczMvhEUzS-9ArUu-eK53NM05fx-8e3N6pL4Nwb8JitVNXZ4EFZlbYB8-pkBEiy7TKJLtZSy5lpVmPystkYxG08F6TgqP8N77tvY/s320/20210103_082956.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyuuCo_xjMdTp_6aQNvbcXnxQColYWtuIrsff_A7aI9vCeXVewh3McVwiKPnho80pwVMBksLWVPLLRXXlQFWdFhnT-JzO85EG3AjtkgvEHEeazHo3TMu2_zfdqCTjvdfZ9jvl2lujz2D3/s2048/20201226_151701.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyuuCo_xjMdTp_6aQNvbcXnxQColYWtuIrsff_A7aI9vCeXVewh3McVwiKPnho80pwVMBksLWVPLLRXXlQFWdFhnT-JzO85EG3AjtkgvEHEeazHo3TMu2_zfdqCTjvdfZ9jvl2lujz2D3/s320/20201226_151701.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVL-7JcnwkoPpThwaibmhoruyn4EVCgwwhyphenhyphenYSlyz6AkcdCsvZt6P4eER724nsQPOANnmNqyPOGgRe_oStdMBW5aQd_hvucAQNTflcMOyy9szaok0t278zfVbTpQFMBlG4NlTm9CNbLVgbR/s2048/20201226_151652.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVL-7JcnwkoPpThwaibmhoruyn4EVCgwwhyphenhyphenYSlyz6AkcdCsvZt6P4eER724nsQPOANnmNqyPOGgRe_oStdMBW5aQd_hvucAQNTflcMOyy9szaok0t278zfVbTpQFMBlG4NlTm9CNbLVgbR/s320/20201226_151652.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><span> </span><br /></p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-17287630699557005262020-09-16T11:39:00.003-07:002020-09-16T11:39:37.772-07:00Reflect on a Pec, and a look at the new norm<p>In a year that has delivered more than its fair share of loss, grief and uncertainty, it is perhaps ironic that the period of national lockdown provided myself and closest family with both happiness and security. Like everyone, it was hard not to hold loved ones away from home, but the enforced measures meant we had more time together as a 3. We are lucky to live in the South Yare Valley, complete with garden, home to some chickens and as it turns out, 3 Hedgehogs and a lot of Moths. Many a happy day has been spent teaching my daughter how to tend to the chickens, explaining what makes a tomato happy and of course walks down the marsh. Only the other day we stumbled across an Otter, a piece of magic from a box of tricks that keeps on giving. With no choice but to stay at home, every day became an intimate look at parish life for the flora and fauna. Water Voles, dyke dipping, the garden Mole and passing Cranes- experiences I would have missed had we not all been at home. Historical readers of the blog will know that we are a family in touch with nature, but the lockdown experience has made us count our blessings at a time when it would have been easy to throw in the towel. The detail around that is not for here, but needless to say as we emerge into the golden light of the year, we have reevaluated for the better. I feel deeply connected to this landscape, and whilst I still seek experiences further afield, the patch continues to satisfy my appetite for the natural world. As a birder, I like to keep my eye in and get better (see below) but as a person, it is important for me to remain a part of the community and move with the seasons.I have walked miles this summer; there is still more to see. </p><p>Everyone is different. I do not begrudge folk the odd trip abroad, the odd twitch. But today, a journey during lockdown to see a rare Tern is utterly abhorrent. Regular long haul flights need to become a thing of the past. There is a lot of talk around at the moment encouraging change. Talk is cheap. Instead, act. Lead by example and join the #lowcarbonbirding movement. Live sustainably where you can. Join the RSPB. If you are a frequent flyer, consider fallow years. Demand change from those in power and be voice of change. Pledge to rewild some of your land. Tweeting- 'This Must Stop!' is not enough, and never has been enough. There is still time. </p><p>Soapbox dismounted. </p><p>Dickleburgh Moor is an inland site not far from Diss, and after a report of 9 Curlew Sandpipers I was keen to get over there and see what the fuss was about. Although the aforementioned Waders were distant, the huge puddle held plenty of interest including 30+ Little Egret, Yellow Wagtail and a Hobby overhead. I was keen to return, so dragged along cousin-uncle duo Ben and Colin Moyes and a few days later we were back at the puddle. Catching up, chatting, scanning, we had rolled out the usual lines about potential, and guessed what birds may turn up next. The 3 Spotted Redshank on view were presumably a first for the site, so what was next? I picked up a small Wader obscured by mud which after a raptor passed by overhead was flushed, and I lost it until it was high in the sky and guessed it may have been a Dunlin. Ten minutes later, Ben exclaimed "Jim, I've got your Wader". "Does it look like a Pectoral Sandpiper?!" I asked, kind of tongue in cheek but kind of knowing what the answer would be. "Yes, it does!" Ben exclaimed. The three of us were thrilled, but naturally a little nervy. I had not seen a Pec for a few years, and it was important we obtained decent views and made notes. Long primary projection, breast band stops suddenly at belly, appears long-necked when alert, clearly a juv. We were quickly able to confirm Ben's call and put the news out. A decent bird to have a hand in finding, and best of all it was with my family. Get in Moysie!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsXIZpK6Fiyb-qBaSwOgit3ncoNLt82uLOjPF_Cpd2IMEqTx9C_5HWdpi12tVb7oIW3hSooGyp5I-NeLFevIs-JI4GrlWcpvwRu5Lzs2ds9O3cu8RmHD0YWLvdu67JHjHW3Qf94_2b-8u/s976/Pec+Sand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="835" data-original-width="976" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsXIZpK6Fiyb-qBaSwOgit3ncoNLt82uLOjPF_Cpd2IMEqTx9C_5HWdpi12tVb7oIW3hSooGyp5I-NeLFevIs-JI4GrlWcpvwRu5Lzs2ds9O3cu8RmHD0YWLvdu67JHjHW3Qf94_2b-8u/s320/Pec+Sand.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Photo: Ben Moyes</div><p><br /></p><p>Back on the patch, a Hornet infestation put an early end to a Moth trapping session in Wheatfen last night. Returning home, the trap was adorned with Frosted Orange, Black Rustic and Large Wainscot. Early Autumn is perhaps my favourite time to be trapping. As the days warm up, the ivy hums with life. Willow Emerald is an ever later visitor to the garden. Early morning walks to Rockland broad are leaving me with dew-soaked feet, and I wonder when is the right time to break out the wellington boots. </p>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-78768130019829899742020-02-11T02:51:00.001-08:002020-02-11T09:03:04.468-08:00Everything is about edge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Hardley, where it is often confusing to define where the garden ends and the marsh begins. Tumble-down houses and rickety shacks, away from any bus route and Team Sky sorts wrapped in lycra, this is a village that by choice is cut off. The secret is out, and pre-storm Ciara as many as 10 large lenses littered the river bank firing at will. Their target- Winter ghosts. First, the classic Scooby-Doo type, as a Barn Owl responds to an ill-advised squeak in the grass and heads towards the onlookers. Another quickly joins the hunt, their formation a picture of double-edged stealth. But these year-round residents are not the key objective today, that honour is given to the Short-eared Owl. 3/4 of these can be seen from the staithe at the minute, floating like giant moths over the tussocks and edges. </div>
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In a recent article in The New Yorker, Jake Fiennes states "Everything is about edge". Hedges, ditches, scrub, forgotten tracts of land that link nothing and no-one. Fiennes, now managing Holkham estate, advocates an ecosystem friendly approach when it comes to feeding the nation. There is some land management here at Hardley today, and a bundle more historically, but looking out across the marsh it would appear to be very light touch. Driving around the y-shaped village, the farms themselves appear abandoned, only muddy tire tracks betraying evidence of wheels turning and therefore human intervention on this landscape, that is oh so very anti-man. This melting pot seems to please the Owls, as it does the wheeling Marsh Harriers. A single Red Kite, new kid on the block, shows off the famous forked tail as it perches high above the action. The Buzzards in contrast have been here for some time now, confident in their poses atop fence and gate posts. </div>
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I offer a nod and a smile to some walkers. A gentlemen exclaims to me, that he should set up a tea and coffee shop in the village to cater for the visiting birders. I think you would do well, I say. After sharing views through the 'scope, one ear-less Owl alights after an unsuccessful hunt. No matter, for the landscape is on side here, rough and ready to reveal its secrets. </div>
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You can read the full interview with Jake Fiennes here: <a href="https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/02/17/can-farming-make-space-for-nature">https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2020/02/17/can-farming-make-space-for-nature</a></div>
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After a tough start to the year, the grieving process continues and comes in waves. I look out across the marshes with hope, the veering Corvids a reminder that life goes on. </div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-5511517143539509442019-11-26T12:24:00.001-08:002019-11-26T12:24:32.309-08:00Rockland and Hellington- looking againI just need a kick up the arse sometimes, and what with November in the broads coming across a little turgid (water rather than Duck), it was the report of a local Long-eared Owl that got said backside out amongst the fields and the furrows once more. I relish the WeBs counts, but the lack of any notable Wildfowl has found me heading away from the river, seeking out the edgelands of the local parish.<br />
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The Owl itself had been seen at roost in a thick hedge of Hawthorn, but the scrub and briar held nothing as I pushed on to the Hellington and Rockland community reserve. I recall passing through here in the summer, hot and tired, too thirsty and out of water to give the place the time it deserved. Now, I looked on anew. OS map in hand, I traced with my finger the broken lines that encircled the small reserve before splitting up and heading back home to Claxton, or onward to Rockland village. For me, there is nothing quite like the slide of mud and crunch of rotting reed under my feet when exploring countryside for the first time. I stopped and scanned the scrub, the ivy and darker places. Still no Owls, but the habitat reeked of a roost site. A Chinese Water Deer broke cover, the first sign of life as dusk approached with the Corvids in tow. I pottered on to a small bridge, overlooking Hellington Beck. I was met with raw speed in a panic, as a Kingfisher left its fishing perch in a hurry to settle away from prying eyes. A likely Water Pipit then flew overhead, calling just the once.<br />
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With the light fading and thoughts turning to a pint and a book in The New Inn, a final look back over my shoulder and the reserve divulged a final treat. A hunting Barn Owl, perusing the reedbed in hope of a meal. I watched until the bird retreated into the milky gloom. Having scratched the surface, I was keen to return and will do as soon as able.<br />
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The light has almost entirely departed my morning routine, and the Corvids arrive over the house as I depart. 20 feet or so under their flightpath are a small group of 2-4 Mistle Thrush, their harsh calls cutting through the raucous rabble above.<br />
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-50669786472442721502019-09-10T12:22:00.002-07:002019-09-10T12:24:55.868-07:00Stories to tell<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
With the days shortening and signs of Autumn feasting on Summer's entrails, we made good use of the last week of the holidays with visits to old and new. The latter, Orford Ness, a place quite unlike any other. Where else can you see Peregrines bombing over a landscape pock-marked with forgotten piles of rust, preening Avocets and former weapon testing facilities? Had the Peregrines have been present here during the Cold War, I wonder would the scientists have considered their ability to seemingly defy physics in the sky, much as they wished their payloads to do. Much mystery and intrigue surrounds what went on here in the era of the Iron Curtain, it being said that the men in one building had no idea what was being developed in the next cabin 100 metres away. Such was the need for hush in trying times. Great minds, silent heroes have left their mark here. </div>
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St. Benet's Abbey has embraced folk horror, the wicker monks now maintaining an eerie vigil around the ruins. The image below, bought to life by the artist John Sell-Cotman and others, is what many come to think of as the abbey. However, the brick mill built around the stone actually masks the former gate house, and here it was that a treasonous monk had his particulars removed before being hung on the gate as a warning to others with delusions of grandeur. Locals say that the wails of that monk can still be heard, typically a clear night with a misty moon of course.<br />
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Things are changing at home. The Corvids are back in the Eucalyptus tree, arriving before sunrise as I let the chickens out. The Hens seem a little confused at the moment, stumbling down the ramp in the gloom with questioning clucks directed at me and my early morning start. A Chiffchaff in the garden gave a full blast of song over the weekend, perhaps to let us know he is either staying or going. Are the odds of survival better going one-on-one with a tough British Winter, or making a return flight to Africa? I know I would choose the might of Albion any day. To bookend the day, the local Tawny Owls have announced a return to business, and I await the return of the bold male to the telegraph pole on The Street. The Ivy has begun to hum.Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-62547834091105720762019-08-08T04:56:00.000-07:002019-08-08T04:56:02.441-07:00Herringfleet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The marshes of Suffolk and Norfolk are steeped in heritage and history, where folk come and go, leaving behind stories and markers on the landscape. The smock mill at Herringfleet is one such example, its name derived from its likeness to smocks worn by farmers in days gone by. Today the mills are not in use but instead provide a way-marker for visitors and walkers. As was so on a breezy Wednesday, the mill being the target for a there-and-back walk that took in the small natural scrapes that had opened up on the marshes thanks to sympathetic land management. </div>
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A pair of Greenshank, piping and barrel-rolling, alighted one scrape and fed on a secluded muddy bank out of our gaze. At least 2 scaly-looking juvenile Wood Sandpiper were less bothered by our presence on the bank and represent a drop in the ocean regarding the recent invasion of this species on migration. Not to be cast into the margins, Green Sandpiper were omnipresent throughout the amble and without these visitors, some may argue the Wood wouldn't seem quite so special. But that's not really fair, and a view I try to avoid. I find that with birds, we compare when perhaps we shouldn't. We apparently 'need' the blackbirds so that when a Ring Ouzel does pass through, we elevate it purely for rarity value. Today, with big skies and time on our side, it was a pleasure to consider the individual worth of each species and watch them go about their business. </div>
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A search online of the origin of the name Herringfleet provides no clues, but for me it is evocative of boats working the water ways, heading out to sea for a catch before returning to Somerleyton. In the early hours they would have been guided by lanterns on board, or on some nights the ghost lights of will-o-the-wisp adorning the marsh, what we would explain today as bioluminescence. Somerleyton hall itself has a resident ghost, frequenting the long corridors and cellar, hinting at past dynasties. These stories stand the test of time, somehow suited to the open skies and feeling of isolation out here. Even the rattle and clank of the train does not detract from the moment, for the swirl of the reeds and the grumbling of a Reed Warbler seem amplified in these surrounds. Red Admiral Butterflies glide past, lured by the Hemp Agrimony on show. As it always was, the landscape clinging on to what is worth keeping in an age of flux.</div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-29913785960206599252019-05-29T11:55:00.000-07:002019-05-29T11:55:13.925-07:00Foulden Common- Skippers and a Hairstreak<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Been meaning to get to Foulden Common for what feels like years, and it probably is that in terms of timescale! I recall being poorly last Spring, and my days put aside for a Butterfly hunt there were postponed. Before long, the mid-summer doldrums had set in and all thought of Norfolk's scarce Skipper species were put on hold until 2019. </div>
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And so despite the overcast conditions and lack of some Bird Therapy, I headed out this morning. Arriving from the direction of Mundford, travelling through Foulden village and approaching an S bend, I noticed a small bowl-shaped pull in. Doubling back I parked up, walked through two gates and began searching the common land. The first 45 minutes had me cursing the lack of sun and planning my next free morning before returning to work. A pair of Common Blue and Small Copper gave some hope, and a hoarse Cuckoo and 2+ Garden Warbler were clearly harbingers of warmer fronts moving in. </div>
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As the sun threatened to bust through the clouds, I picked up a Brown Argus feeding amongst the bright yellow Vetches and Buttercups. The sun now fully ablaze, but for how long here? I made for a likely patch of bare ground, observing many Burnet Companion and single Mother Shipton Moth. Finally, target species obtained- a Dingy Skipper alighting onto the wildflowers. Tiny, Moth-like and easily overlooked. With the sky still clear, I pushed onwards to a patch of Gorse with one thing in mind, Green Hairstreak. It was starting to look like my day. Having been on site for almost 2 hours, I began a long walk back to the car taking in as much bare ground, gullies, dips and bowls as I could. My luck was in, for a single male Grizzled Skipper cut off my route and landed allowing splendid views and time with this trickiest of species here in Norfolk. By the time I had returned to the car, the ground was damp with drizzle and it was back to the road home and a podcast. </div>
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The feeling in the garden is being dominated by one very broody hen, a cycle of which we are yet to break. Any tips appreciated. As I type, a Red Kite drives against the wind surrounded by a storm of Swifts. </div>
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Dingy Skipper</div>
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Burnet Companion</div>
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Green Hairsteak </div>
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Grizzled Skipper</div>
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Foulden Common- view from the afternoon</div>
Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-11736319713563705822019-04-21T02:07:00.001-07:002019-04-21T02:08:41.612-07:00Picking up the pieces is easyBumping into neighbour Mark Cocker in the Findhorn Valley proved not only how small our world is, but also how valuable the home patch is to us both. We compared notes around our Highland experiences, but attention quickly turned to where we had both come from. "Have you seen the Short-eared Owls?" We both had, and it was this pleasantly nagging thought that kept infiltrating my mind throughout the highland stay. Put simply, inside my head, it went like this: it is great up here, but when I get home I must get down the marsh.<br />
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Despite Spring being a leap ahead back home compared to the north, reminders of the season past were hunting Claxton Marsh as we had discussed. The Short-eared Owls had not been present all Winter, and sightings of two birds in April were oddly my first of the year. A background orchestra of Grasshopper and Sedge Warbler was a contradiction, but here were the early birds and a couple simply not in a rush. </div>
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I have been taking part in the Common Bird Census. Having been taught the methodology by Ben on a gloomy and uneventful morning earlier in the month, yesterday I set off early with maps and clipboard, more concerned with taking the wrong turn rather than missing a Sedge Territory. It is a real privilege to explore these marshes that although RSPB owned are inaccessible to the public. Climbing fences, following Deer trails and using old marsh man cottages as way-markers are all necessary as fen and marsh are navigated. Two surveys in and few conclusions can be drawn, but a lot has been learned. Take Sedge and Reed Warbler territories. Sedge, not fussed on the whole, singing somewhere in the middle of the reed bed. Reed, always along dyke edges, a more linear outlook. If you are reading this as a seasoned bird surveyor, this will not surprise you. And I think this is a fact I was aware of, but only by mapping and recording accurately has it become crystal clear to me at least. Once complete, I will share some pictures of the completed maps which will illustrate these points and more. </div>
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The odd Swallow has been passing through, and some of the local House Martins are back, prospecting the old nest site. A stunning Mullein was in the Moth trap this morning, and Holly Blues and Speckled Woods have joined the Butterfly emergence encouraged by the warm temperatures. Spring is sprung, and what better time to dip a toe into the world of animal husbandry. For now, The chickens need feeding. </div>
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Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-90363033867101999982019-04-21T01:38:00.002-07:002019-04-21T12:12:34.914-07:00WildernessWilderness is relative, and a visitor to our shores from the near continent may sneer at the lack of carnivores in our ancient forests, and join us in universal deflation when confronted with the over-intensification of our countryside in favour of farming. Having said this, one cannot sit by the shores of Loch Morlich looking up at the snow-capped peaks of the Cairngorm Massif and not feel utterly in awe and that little bit smaller in the world. Only the brightly coloured water-proofs betray the reality that civilization is close by, but just a few mindful moments and the call of a Diver are enough here.<br />
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Being a regular visitor to the Scottish Highlands, the likes of Morlich, Garten, Findhorn and Rothiemurchus all feel familiar and generally are the places where my Highland experiences begun. I will always go back to them. But what struck me on this trip, albeit a family holiday, was the wealth of habitat as yet unexplored. The Badenoch Way and Insh Marshes, off the beaten track in Glen More and our local patch for the week, Glenfeshie. A deserted forest clinging on to the past, the sounds of chipping Crossbill and chattering Redpoll overhead. It was here that I finally caught a glimpse of the turkey of the woods and symbol of wilderness, the Capercaillie. 100m away from me, deep amongst the pines, a large black fan. A snake-like neck and head emerged to the side, and the bird alighted from its perch. I recall my heart beat rising, and feeling hyper-aware of all around me. I managed a further look at the bird as the trail bent round, before losing him into the gloom. Later that morning, another male was seen wandering from a clear area of heather into the woods, consumed, gone. Truly memorable moments.<br />
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Closer to home, close enough to watch from the balcony: Red Squirrels, Osprey on nest and Red-throated Divers. Only in Scotland! Wilderness on your doorstep. Wilderness how you wish to find it, be it a walk in a 'new' glen, a stroll down a forest track or distant view of a Golden Eagle soaring over its domain. Back at Claxton home, we are planning next year's trip. How wild is Skye, I wonder?Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-43990507464722677972019-02-23T04:53:00.000-08:002019-02-23T04:53:06.881-08:00Thoughts on The Brecks and a moment of magicWith the onset of an early Spring, naturally The Brecks have been receiving plenty of attention from visiting birders, and I was fortunate enough to spend some time at well known sites and some off the beaten track with mum, last week. We enjoyed wonderful views of Hawfinch feeding on the ground at Lynford, frustrating glimpses of an agile Firecrest in the carpark and singing Woodlark amongst tens of Brambling and Siskin. This was all in a couple of hours, a delayed start due to mum parking at Lynford Hall. Both of us sat in our cars half a mile apart wondering where the other was. Cue missed calls from mum and dad (the big gun rolled out) when I retreated to Mundford to gather reception and find the missing parent. Whilst waiting, I even managed to squeeze in listening to Jupiter from the Planet Suite, which provided a great backdrop in Lynford carpark as I watched Lee Evans and co return to their cars victorious.<br />
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That sighting allows a neat segue-way into my key point. The Brecks is becoming a circus, and I am guilty of adding to this. I live far enough away that when I do get to visit, I will naturally take in well-known sites for a better chance of seeing the specialists, since the opportunity to visit again may be somewhere down the line. I am sure others are in the same position. I do try to put some time in myself, and having located Golden Pheasant and Goshawk sites a few years ago (both are known to a minority) I at least feel like I am 'allowed' the odd trip to Lynford, Santon etc. However, whatever way I package it, the number of birders (including me) visiting these sites and others is adding immense pressure to an often fragile area and there appears to be no long term plan of sustainability from the birding community nor the forestry commission. Perhaps most worrying, is the status of our smallest Woodpecker in The Brecks.<br />
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I have avoided the Lesser-pecker nest site ever since news of it was published, somewhere downriver of the 'old' site by the bridge at Santon Downham. I have seen Lesser-pecker, and there is no need in my mind to add another body to the trail, and further noise to the site. As I understand it every man and his dog have already been to see the pair/s, and this concerns me in terms of the likelihood of disturbance and the fact that this species is clinging on in Norfolk. If you are reading this and have never seen a Lesser spotted Woodpecker, I sympathise and I can understand why you would want to visit. I would counter that by saying that nobody 'needs' to see any bird, and nobody has a right to see anything. In the age of social media, it can seem like everyone is seeing rare birds but you. This is of course not the case. Others will also be quietly abstaining, or seeking out larger breeding populations in the south of England. Surely, the best thing for The Brecks peckers would be careful monitoring by ecologists, BTO, and the area made out of bounds to birders? Not feasible as the birds often favour an area next to a public right of way, but with the population on a knife edge, a procession of birders cannot be a positive influence.<br />
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Anyway, I've dismantled the soap box, a couple of stories from home. Rose has noticed the Moth Trap has returned to the corner of the garden, and this morning in an attempt to convince her to get out of bed, I offered a chance to check the trap together. She carried a box of pots outside, and I encouraged her to search the conifer next to the trap for resting Moths. I found a a lovely Oak Beauty which got a 'wow', and then a cry of "Daddy daddy I've found one!" Expecting it to be a dead leaf or some kind of fly, I was thrilled when she was pointing at (and not man-handling) a Dotted Border. I praised her, and realised this was her first official piece of Moth recording. We returned to breakfast, ID guide out, and note made in book.<br />
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As I type, a male Brimstone charges through the garden, the gorgeous Daffodil-yellow colour hopefully not an omen of a Welsh victory later today. A Rose coloured Red Admiral would be perfect right about now.<br />
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-78738650233096328092019-01-27T06:40:00.003-08:002019-01-27T06:40:46.104-08:00Homba! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I was reminded of the brilliance of Richard Adams's Watership Down over Christmas, the BBC adaptation collided with mixed reviews but we at The Warren loved it. Rabbits themselves are not so common in the wider countryside today, disease the main culprit. One particular arch enemy of the rabbit, the Fox or <i>Homba, </i>can be heard barking and generally making an otherworldly racket at this time of year, as the dog seeks out the vixen in the hope of mating and settling down into an earth. Although widespread, the country fox is rarely seen, and my encounter last Sunday the 20th was one to remember.</div>
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I had checked the water levels at Rockland Broad around 7.30am, and was in the process of retreating through the frozen scrub back to the main path when a bark stopped me in my tracks. Leaf litter and twigs snapped, a path was being ploughed in my direction. I took a step back, and a fox shot out in front of me. Panicked, he sprinted deeper into the brush and the last I heard for now was the breaking of ice in the dyke as the fox made his escape. Breathless, I stood and listened as another individual thought better of crossing the same path and I could see her trotting away through the undergrowth. Then, that familiar musty smell hits home. Silence again. A Bullfinch calls, but no response. The bird community are not convinced it is safe to advertise its presence just yet.</div>
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I walked on following the track round the back of the broad, short dyke on my left. This time, the noise comes from the reedbed, and I readied my camera expecting to see an unsuspecting Chinese Water Deer shoot out. But whatever ritual I had disturbed earlier, the pair of foxes were not done yet. The followed each other out of the reeds, eyeballing me. The male made his way toward me, dashing off at the last second, almost like a game of chicken. The female continued to stare me down before retreating into the safety of the reedbed. These two had no cares about being safe though. This was their icy domain, and I was on their patch this morning. Further barking ensued, and finally the encounter came to an end. A Chinese Water Deer pops out, to see what the fuss was all about. </div>
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Looking back, there was a strong sense that this pair of foxes were toying with me. They were supremely confident, criss-crossing my path. After the first meeting, they knew full well I was still in the area. Either, this was a pair mid-mating, or it was last year's young looking to hold territory with one of its parents. The latter is not an option that can be pursued for long, and I may have just seen the end of that showdown. This chance find has been on my mind a lot since last weekend. I haven't returned to the site yet, expecting to be disappointed if I do. </div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-34838281019319313962019-01-19T12:01:00.001-08:002019-01-19T12:01:41.697-08:00Only the braveNo matter how many times I walk the well-trodden paths that criss-cross my local patch, nature can still throw up something new. At Surlingham Church Marsh early this morning, the temperature beginning to climb above freezing, I witnessed a pair of Jays mobbing a perched Common Buzzard. I have never seen this behaviour before, although from a Corvid of any kind not exactly unexpected. My presence appeared to be the final straw, the raptor taking flight and disappearing further into the small pine wood. Elsewhere on the reserve, a hunting female Marsh Harrier was hopefully a sign of things to come prior to Spring, and Siskins aplenty called overhead and amongst the Alders. Walking the holloway from the church down to the river, the first Snowdrops were braving the frozen ground and providing a welcome splash of purity and colour.<br />
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This afternoon as the sky took on a golden tinge above the copse opposite, I took this as my signal to walk the marsh path down to the river. I was rewarded with an unusually silent Green Sandpiper, flushed from a dyke. Only my second here; the first passing through during the brutal Beast From The East of 2018. Soon after a Water Pipit thankfully called as it flew north towards Buckenham, also my second record here. My regular Barn Owl needed no encouragement to get out early and hunt, these are tough days with more to come. The satellite Corvid pre-roost have moved to the edge of the parish boundary, but numbers appear as strong as the start of the month. Small pockets of Wigeon banked over the river before settling to roost, and in the gloom the commuting Black-headed Gulls snaked their way downriver in absolute silence.<br />
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Having recently come across this, it would be selfish not to share. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WSybM6_Oupw" target="_blank">Solan Goose</a>Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-80574638980477745072019-01-01T07:54:00.000-08:002019-01-01T07:55:35.163-08:00A local phenomenon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the time it took me to drive down the long uneven track to the enigma that is The Beauchamp Arms, the satellite Corvid roost had grown from zero to around 300 birds. A roughly even mix of Rooks and Jackdaws assemble on Claxton Marshes every evening during the Winter (currently around 15.30) and 50 minutes later a mass of circa 5000 birds have left for the giant roost at Buckenham Carrs north of the river. This was the first time I had made a clear note of timings, and was surprised by how quickly the meeting point goes from raucous to silent. In fact, an eerie quiet falls upon the avenue of trees around 16.00, and a lone cock Pheasant outcried the 1000s of Corvids perched on trees or loafing on the marshy ground beneath. What follows are a number of reshufflings as the restless birds take flight in small waves, taking a new branch to perch upon. Around 16.15, a false dawn as a splinter group takes a more purposeful flight only to loop round and return to the main group. Only at twenty minutes past does some unknown signal go out, putting all Rooks and Jackdaws to the skies. Standing on the riverbank, the black shapes move over my head, a cacophony of sound accompanying the patterns above. Were it not for the calls, the wingbeats alone would make quite a noise. Just 120 seconds later, the last bird has passed overhead; I think s/he must have had a tiring day. These few thousand join many more freshly-arrived individual pre-roost sites from across The Broads, arriving at Buckenham as darkness falls to somehow find their place in amongst the drama of roosting which loudly unfolds a couple of miles away from where I stand.</div>
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Crow Country author and Claxton resident Mark Cocker wrote of the roost briefly in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2014/feb/16/claxton-norfolk-crows-circles-high" target="_blank">The Guardian Country Diary</a> However, I cannot recommend the aforementioned title enough, a nice perspective on the wider goings on of the Corvid family in and around Norfolk.</div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-72373377192039281602018-12-27T11:32:00.001-08:002018-12-27T11:32:40.326-08:00Murmurings of content<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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.</div>
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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. </div>
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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. </div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-44491702645150677362018-09-10T10:37:00.001-07:002018-09-10T11:43:28.888-07:00Reflections.A great summer of wildlife to reflect upon. Looking back at my diary notes, a number of items jump off the page and I will embellish upon a few here.<br />
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Early August I caught up with a tiny percentage of the Pied Flycatcher influx. I left the girls for half an hour on Caister beach on the 3rd of August (thankfully they were there when I returned) and stumbled across a single bird feeding on flying ants perhaps amongst the gorse. The following day I met up with Tim at Waxham, had a good yarn about all things education, and whilst most birds had cleared out I still picked up one bird calling loudly overhead.<br />
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The 10th was an odd day for me. I saw a new bird for the UK in Spotted Crake, but views were particuarly underwhelming and did make me question the whole twitching thing once again. On reflection, the day was more about spending quality time with my uncle and I will probably remember it more for that and getting soaked on route back to the car.<br />
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On the 18th of August, with the M40 as a backdrop, I went searching for Butterflies on a chalk hillside in Oxfordshire, Aston Rowant nature reserve. It was a windy day, but the Blues showed well especially in any dips and hollows away from the elements. Adonis, Common, Chalkhill Blue and the most Brown Argus I have ever seen, were abundant. Realising I was running out of time to leave and beat the traffic into Bristol for the night, I trudged back greeted by the dazzling flush of the odd blue. I thought, I'll just check behind that bramble one more time......and there it was! A single Silver-spotted Skipper, my official target species for the venture. It allowed close approach before belting off across the hill never seen again. My weekend continued with a 10 mile hike on Dartmoor over hill and bog, and then the worst conditions I have ever Moth-trapped in threw up an Ear Moth in the tent with me. God bless OS maps and The Warren House Inn, I doubt the group would have survived if either had not been present to assist.<br />
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Back home, a Semi-palmated Sandpiper at Minsmere was another new bird for me. The compact shape, pale colours and relaxed feeding motion allowed me to distinguish this from Little Stint, and I felt like I had a decent shot of calling one in the field myself. Can but hope. The relaxed feeding notion was continued with a day birding by pub in the company of the excellent trio of James, Gary and Adam. 44 Species for the day, and more beers than were necessary to not see a Wren. Thanks to James for driving, and for introducing me to The Gunton Arms.<br />
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I have really gotten a lot out of late night Mothing. A rainy Wheatfen and 2 trips to Knettishall Heath have all been great, that feeling of anything could be possible once dusk gives way to dark. A couple of real punch the air moments at Knettishall when my first Marbled Clover and Clouded Buff came to light. I have another visit to Wheatfen planned for later this month. Still no Convolvulous in the garden, but Tree Lichen Beauty is gunning for the Moth of the year award right now.<br />
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Best til last. The girls and I went WeBs counting at Rockland Broad this weekend gone. The back to work feeling had set in, and there was an element of routine about the visit. Quickly putting pay to that was a hunting Osprey, fantastic views for all 3 of us. Rose had to be restrained from leaving the hide via the window, such was the euphoria she could sense inside. Red Kite, Marsh Harrier, Buzzard, Kestrel and Osprey all within 2 miles of the home in one day. Once again, the patch both grounds and inspires me as we head into Autumn.<br />
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-66204551821579797492018-08-01T04:04:00.002-07:002018-08-01T04:04:47.120-07:00The best of The Patch and a Norfolk Day WalkI led a cosy (ie few people attended) walk on Norfolk Day weekend, from The New Inn at Rockland out to the broad, river and back. It was advertised as a Bat walk but as with any dusk walk there was plenty of other wildlife to enjoy. By the staithe, a Lesser Stag Beetle scuttled along the path. Although the broad was quiet save Ducks in eclipse plumage, at the back a Bittern flew over the reedbed in the direction of Wheatfen. This was actually my first record of the year on the patch, having not made an early starts in April (this side of the river at least) where I would usually at least hear booming. As dusk entered darkness and a slightly blood-red moon rose, 2 Hobby hunted close to us, one eating a large Hawker on the wing as they tend to do. It was on the return leg that we connected with Bats, and initially plenty of them. At least 6 Noctule hawked over the river and scrub by Short Dyke, lots of feeding buzzes heard over the detector for the party to enjoy. These are Britain's biggest Bat, and primarily a tree roosting species. They appeared very suddenly as a group, suggesting they are using the willows or similar as a nursery roost site nearby. Heading back to the pub for last orders, Common and Soprano Pipistrelle were easily picked up via the detector and occasionally seen by moon light. A fantastic walk that showcased the variety on and around Rockland Broad.<br />
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Yesterday I met up with my uncle who volunteers at Minsmere as a 'Guide in a Hide' every Tuesday. The scrape and pools were looking ripe for rare, but on this day we were happy to settle with variety. 2 Curlew Sandpiper were amongst a 44-strong flock of Dunlin, and I counted 11 Spotted Redshank in an array of full summer to full winter plumages. Terns were feeding young on the islands, and Med Gulls and a Kittiwake loafed in the sun. Most striking were around 10 Turnstone in wonderful ruddy summer best. We counted at least 3 each of Green and Common Sandpiper, but could not find the Wood that had been reported. I enjoyed a comment from a chap in reception asking us about this bird. Upon saying we had not seen it, he proclaimed "But, it's on the internet".<br />
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I popped into the Blyth Estuary on the way home, but the tide was high so little was seen of note, but it won't be long until the first Osprey drops in on route back to Africa.<br />
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Below are a few snaps from a recent visit to Church Marsh. A young Toadlet proved difficult to spot amongst the damp undergrwoth after a rare shower, and a/the Common Tern has been present on and off since May. The last photo though- what a contrast. The rich, green verdant colour of the fen and then the parched yellow and golden grazing meadow.<br />
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-79061389968749840172018-07-24T02:09:00.000-07:002018-07-24T02:09:07.007-07:00A new feeder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The kind folk over at Vine House Farm <a href="https://www.vinehousefarm.co.uk/">https://www.vinehousefarm.co.uk/</a> </div>
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recently sent me a new feeder to try out, which you can see in the photo below. The feeder sits perfectly on a ring designed to hold a seed or water bowl. It has a 'handle' at the back which can be secured to a (probably wider) pole if required. Initially, the birds were wary, no doubt as this looks a little different to anything else around. I filled it with suet pellets provided by Vine House, and it after a few days this was the hot feeder in the garden, plagued by juvenile Starlings, to the extent that the fat balls next to it are oft forgotten! Handily, I can change the inner part of the feeder to suit fat balls rather than pellets. This will be a useful test, as I will find out whether it is the nature of the new feeder design or indeed the food available that has meant the immature Starlings come back again and again. A further test will be the winter months, but in the meantime nice to enjoy the local birds as they make their efforts to survive the heatwave.</div>
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I will add a further Moth-heavy update later, for now below are 2 distinct forms of common Moths the Peppered (Insularia) and Poplar Hawk (near 'buff' form). </div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-85785859782183398902018-06-25T03:29:00.000-07:002018-06-25T03:29:10.039-07:00Away from home- Salcey Forest and Oundle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've had the date in the diary for a while, and after the abject failure of Skipper hunting during the May half term week I was keen to make amends and do some more exploring in the Midlands. This time, the targets were Black Hairstreak and Wood White, before meeting up with friend Allan and an Oundle pub crawl. </div>
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Upon arrival at the Horse trail (see below; confirmation I was in the right place thanks to the scribbled b.h. and star that could be a Butterfly on the sign?) I had walked a matter of metres before I was stopped in my tracks by a Purple Emperor that landed on the track and briefly fed on salts, sun-bathed and finally disappeared high into the canopy. An incredible encounter, and I did not once think to grab the camera of course. Onwards, and White Admirals were flighty but numerous. The Damselfy below is I believe a female Beautiful Demoiselle, a nice bonus if so as this is a species I had not counted on seeing, and indeed have not seen at all in the UK. I scanned the tops of the Blackthorn, hoping for a glimpse of the rare and restricted Black Hairstreak. I found a smaller trail and could see where long grass had been walked over and felt this could deliver the goods. Sure enough, a Black Hairstreak came down to the ground and did allow me to observe and take a photo. Further sightings were mainly as the species skimmed along the top of the blackthorn bushes. I found this Butterfly easier to connect with than Brown Hairstreak last summer, which appeared to be a stronger flyer and less prone to settling. But this was a Black- rarer, apparently more approachable, and restricted to ancient woodland in the Midlands. </div>
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I spoke with a group led by a chap from Butterfly Conservation, who said they had only seen 1 Wood White. I didn't fancy the drive to Bucknell Wood south of here, and at this stage the elusive Wood White looked like it would remain to be just that. I continued to search for another hour, spying more Black Hairstreak flitting through the thorns and brambles. Finally, I got lucky. A very small white species appeared, rarely straying beyond or below a metre above ground level. I followed it up and down a forest ride, and concluded that I had never seen a white species look or behave like this. This was a Wood White! Another chap walked past, and confirmed my thoughts. </div>
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With my 2 targets achieved and numerous other species seen, I headed to Oundle. I knew I was close, Red Kites began to black out the sky. With the sun obscured by cloud, a trip to Glapthorn at this point of the day was probably not worth it. Instead, we investigated the local food festival and continued on to various drinking holes to watch football and rugby. The following morning, we emptied the Moth trap and I was pleased that both Privet and Poplar Hawk had made an appearance, as well as Large Nutmeg NFY and a couple of micros in Oak Green Tortrix and Large Ivy Tortrix. </div>
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I am back this way for a social event in July, and must pop in to the Chequered Skipper pub. Hopefully a few years down the line, and this species' reintroduction will be complete and another good reason to visit.</div>
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<br />Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-72219628706777975432018-06-16T06:08:00.000-07:002018-06-16T06:08:39.873-07:00Well, I talked that up!Finally, Marsh Warbler week delivered on the patch. A message from Tim alerted me to the presence of a local bird so I headed down that evening (first time out of the house for a few days due to virus!) and in breezy but bright conditions I watched a male singing amongst a scrubby reedbed. I made a few notes of birds imitated: Blackbird, Song Thrush, Blue Tit, Common Tern, Swift, Wren, Oystercatcher, Reed Bunting, Swallow, Icterine Warbler (?) and Zitting Cisticola (?). The bird was seen well enough to observe the rump and pale fringes to tertial feathers. Also around were 2 Cuckoo. I wonder as to the bird's origins. The species imitated are all resident in Northern France, Belgium and the low countries. I could not make out any Mediterranean species amongst its repertoire. Further birds have been recorded at a few locations on the Suffolk coast, and one at Strumpshaw Fen this Spring. I would tentatively suggest this bird has overshot its usual breeding patch by only a short distance as the Crow flies. No doubt this will go down as a highlight of the year, and to be honest will be tough to top.<br />
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This morning I walked a little aimlessly through light drizzle at an increasingly humid Surlingham Church Marsh. A Coot was with 4 young on the lagoon, and a young Water Rail squealed. A Common Tern was hawking over the small patch of water, and in song were Chiffcaff, Blackcap and Reed Warbler. Perhaps looking for second broods.<br />
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Red Kite update- 1 at Hales and 1 at Stockton this past week.<br />
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I smashed through the 100 Moth count this morning, and after a recount also managed over 50 species. NFM was the understated Water Ermine, a Broadland specialist. New for the year were Dark Arches, Rosy Footman, Ghost (a female, but notoriously hard to rear any caterpillars that may follow the eggs) and Small Angles Shades amongst others. Looking forward to another overnight trap and a morning walk round Rockland tomorrow.<br />
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Next weekend, I am staying with a friend who is conveniently located in the heartland of the Black Hairstreak with Wood White nearby. It would be silly not to, so I look forward to a couple of days in pursuit of Butterflies and probably some ale in Oundle.Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-32333720300667667492018-05-29T04:06:00.002-07:002018-05-29T04:06:29.318-07:00Silent Spring?I wonder what reader's thoughts are on the Spring of 2018 so far. Finally, and with relief all round, the Swifts and House Martins have returned to The Street, careering amongst the rooftops and trees in pursuit of prey invisible to our eyes. Swallows though appear lean in number. Regular walks through Claxton Marshes should be delivering Warblers aplenty, but it is just not happening. A guided tour round Surlingham Church Marsh in early May was a pleasure, but it has to be said unspectacular for birds. Cuckoos sang for the first week, then disappeared. We have had a Hobby over the house, and another at the marsh. The first fledgling Sparrow and Starlings are in the garden being fed by parents from the fat balls, life beginning anew. Things are happening, but the low density of our local birds is concerning.<br />
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I can only comment on what I see locally, and I am keenly aware that with this location I am somewhat spoiled. For example, an evening walk from Claxton to Rockland and back allowed me to observe Hobby, Barn Owl, Marsh Harrier, Buzzard, Reed Warbler and Common Tern. Really not that bad is it! Local Red Kite numbers continue to increase, my most recent sighting only 3 days ago over Hales. Perhaps titling the blog Silent Spring (after the book by Rachel Carson of course) is scaremongering to some, but it does feel like a wider European decline of our birds may have in some ways caught up with us this year. I am out birding this afternoon in and around Surlingham, Foulden Common tomorrow and odds and ends as the week closes. I would love to refute my hypothesis, believe me!<br />
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Sunday the 20th was a glorious day, so the 3 of us popped over to Strumpshaw Fen where Rose saw her first Swallowtail. Also on the reserve of note were Scarce Chaser and Hobby. The previous day, we had a Red Kite low through the garden, a tremendous sight.<br />
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The Moth trap finally got going in May, with nights remaining above double figures and some cloud cover. Friday 25th was the largest and most variable catch of the year, with 99 Moths of 31 species. New for me was an Alder Moth, and plenty of first for the year including Figure Eighty, Angle Shades, Alder Kitten and The Flame. One species, possibly a Pale Tussock, egg-layed on my shorts which were hanging on the washing line overnight. I brushed them off with a small paintbrush, and will attempt to raise the Caterpillars that follow. Yesterday was decent too, with Privet Hawkmoth and Gold Spot adding to the year list. A Wall Brown Butterfly was in the garden yesterday, Claxton somewhat of a stronghold for this uncommon species.<br />
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Just going back to the blog topic before I sign off. I saw it over the weekend on Twitter and have seen it before- birders threatening to 'pack-in', or quit, birding. Bizarre. This may just be in response to a frustrating Spring in terms of migrants where they live, but still, to treat birding as something you can turn on and off like a tap is alien to me. I call wargaming and painting my hobby, birding is just what I do. This has perhaps naturally extended to a range of wildlife over the years, and I wonder if at some point Mothing will eventually take up more of my time, with trapping in the garden, record submission, trapping in new habitats etc. Having said all of this, it is the Yare Valley, it is Spring, and it is Marsh Warbler week. Will 2018 be the year?<br />
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Alder Moth, almost annual in the square looking at records. </div>
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Gold Spot, stunner. </div>
Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-85519386252952487042018-04-22T11:47:00.003-07:002018-04-22T13:25:12.980-07:00Getting back into the patch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It hasn't taken long to wash away any post-Spain blues, with Spring in full swing in the South Yare Valley there is much to see and enjoy. The sun shone on the 16th and the first Butterflies emerged from hibernation, a pair of Brimstone in Claxton along with Peacock and Small Tortoiseshell at neighbouring Langley. Always a red letter day when the first Butterfly of the year is sighted, and I look forward to a Summer in search of more.<br />
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Amongst the mist and murk that the 12th bought, I recorded the first returning Warblers at Church Marsh. Chiffchaff, Willow Warbler, Sedge Warbler and Blackcap were all welcome new for the year, and to be honest some have probably been around since earlier in the month. With Lesser Celandine and Grape Hyacinth in flower, it was beginning to feel like Spring, but the season was having to make every effort to please amidst misty cold conditions.<br />
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It was really this weekend gone that Spring could finally breathe, with temperatures today reaching almost 25 Degrees C. Although Saturday was a little cooler, upon opening the Moth trap 2 Cuckoo sang from the marshes to the north and south. Orange Tip and a likely Holly Blue were in the garden, the first of the emergence after the hibernators have made their play. A dusk visit to Claxton Marshes ended with a nice pint of Trawlorboys and a loud and agonisingly close Grasshopper Warbler. He was still there this morning, giving it hell and out of sight again. Whitethroat was another new for the year, the nettle-creeper also in full song whilst giving his new territory the once over. Tremendous views of Barn Owl at both Claxton and Langley marshes, hopefully both males doting on the incubating female someplace.<br />
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I had a couple of hours to spend with Rose this morning, so before the park we went to Rockland Broad. An Arctic Tern had been reported, but I settled for a pair of Common. A Reed Warbler pushed me closer to a full house of returning Warblers and of note were 2 singing Cettis, a species that has been wiped out on the coast after The Beast.<br />
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Mothing has not been prolific (around 25 species for the year) but I was thrilled with first a Pine Beauty this morning, and then almost embarrassed to pull out a Purple Thorn. Both new for the garden and me, properly spoiled today. EDIT- Purple Thorn a second for the garden, thanks to Moysie for reminding me!<br />
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Sighting of the Spring so far goes to Debs, who had 3 Crane south over Claxton on the 20th, and as if that wasn't enough to make me wince, a Peregrine hunting the field out the back too.<br />
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Purple Thorn </div>
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Sunset over Claxton looking towards Rockland</div>
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Rockland Broad- Common Terns</div>
Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6537559312426055633.post-21440668524522050242018-04-14T04:15:00.003-07:002018-04-14T04:15:51.184-07:00A casual trip report- Southern Spain, Cadiz Province, April 2018Back from a lovely week in Southern Spain, staying on the edge of delightful small town Prado del Rey in Cadiz Province. We flew with EasyJe, hired a car (essential) with Europcar, and stayed in the charming Casa Rural La Jaima, further details here: <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/VacationRentalReview-g608975-d5441033-LA_JAIMA_casa_rural-Prado_del_Rey_Sierra_de_Grazalema_Natural_Park_Province_of_Cadiz_A.html">https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/VacationRentalReview-g608975-d5441033-LA_JAIMA_casa_rural-Prado_del_Rey_Sierra_de_Grazalema_Natural_Park_Province_of_Cadiz_A.html</a><br />
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At this point, I would like to thank John Cantelo for providing me with a PDF of his latest guide to Birding Cadiz Province. John was extremely helpful and is the go-to guy for any questions about birding in this region.<br />
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I intend to add a few photos, but currently the camera charger is out of view......<br />
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With this being a family holiday with no intention to travel too far (and alpine walking a challenge for a 1 year old) I spent a lot of time birding from the doorstep. Olive groves, scrub and lightly grazed hillsides made for a beautiful outlook and were home to a range of bird species. Serin, Corn Bunting, Linnet and Goldfinch were the regulars of the 33 species encountered. On warm days, Raptor watching was superb. A maximum count of 80 Griffon Vultures latched onto thermals and soared high above the villa. Booted Eagle was regular overhead, and singles of Black Kite, Short-toed Eagle and Lesser Kestrel all made it onto the house list. Bee Eater were often bubbling away overhead, and Sardinian Warbler was a common bird. The song of Nightingale was a constant companion, although typically I never laid eyes on one the whole week through. Wryneck (locally scarce), Woodchat Shrike, Spotless Starling, Melodious Warbler and Iberian Green Woodpecker were just some of the local highlights. What a pleasure it was to breakfast, then take a gentle stroll around the site and pick up these species and more. As the days passed, more was revealed- a Cattle Egret commute in the evening clocked in around 8pm, the maximum count being 64 heading north. 2 Pallid Swift passed through on the 6th, and on the final day a female Pied Flycatcher turned up on passage. Whilst I enjoyed this side of the locality, Rose enjoyed seeing the Donkey, Horse, Sheep and Chickens that were all a part of the small holding here. The location was safe, rustic and our hosts were excellent. I cannot recommend this enough as a base to bird from- but beware you may end up staying put, viewing large kettles of Raptors with the mountains as a backdrop, beer in hand.<br />
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We visited El Bosque twice, enjoying excellent tapas at La Duende and some good birds in and around the botanical gardens, well signposted to the north of the small centre. Western Bonelli's Warbler and Iberian Chiffchaff were easy here, the Bonelli's in particular a real treat to watch fly catching, zipping about in the pines. Other common species here included Crested Tit, Sardinian Warbler, Blackcap, Nightingale and Woodchat Shrike. Although my Butterfly list for the trip was a little disappointing, I did see the wonderful Spanish Festoon.<br />
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Alpine birding was more challenging with family in tow, but the driving was great and the climb from El Bosque to Grazalema and beyond is not to be missed. There are various places to stop and walk if you wish, and the best spot we found was west of Grazalema at El Torreon. Here, a pair of displaying Short-toed Eagle (including the male hovering) was just immense. Bonelli's Eagle and Griffon Vulture were also observed well, and a flock of 13 Bee Eater passed through. A little further on, I came across a singing Alpine Accentor, and a Cleopatra Butterfly. I am sure Rock Thrush, Rock Bunting and Black-eared Wheatear are do-able with more time in the area.<br />
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So, in conclusion- a little hard to return home! 13 avian lifers, and 2 new Butterflies. The wealth of birds on our doorstep was just a pleasure to be around, and is in stark contrast to the number of species encountered in open countryside here in the UK. I enjoyed seeing species that rarely make landfall in the UK, and therefore feel more prepared if I should be lucky enough to encounter any of the above on the coast in October.<br />
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However, it is time to walk the trails and tracks across the marshes and footpaths here once again and although dreary at the moment I am looking forward to Spring arriving in northern Europe having seen the effect in the med. 2 Swallow were seen on wires yesterday, the first for the year on the patch. Before leaving for Spain, I went to see the Felthorpe Redpoll massive (2 Arctic in there for me, but I am sure everyone has had enough of reading about Redpoll ID and my two-pence-worth is not worth that!) and lucked in with 4 Spoonbill seen across the river at Buckenham. With warmer weather forecast this next week, what about an Alpine Swift on the patch?Jimhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07440756100318972524noreply@blogger.com1