Cracking day under the shadow of the Orwell Bridge. I moved between the bridge itself and Freston marina. Picked up 4 (maybe more) Great Northern Divers in various spots. Now is the time to catch up with one of these beasties! Good Few Red Breasted Mergansers in close attendance, and 2 Shag were a welcome addition. Ducks included Mallard, Wigeon and a small group of Pintail, lovely stuff. Plenty of Great Crested and Little Grebe, but none of the rarer stuff that I could see. No sign of the resident Peregrine, but a Buzzard floating towards Tattingstone gave good views. Waders included Lapwing, Dunlin and Redshank.
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. 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 ...
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