Surlingham and surrounds

Arriving at Coldham Hall car park, the smell of Sunday roasts from within reminded me I should book a table here for a sit down meal over Christmas. The small tracts of RSPB managed marsh and reed beds were quiet, save for a Cettis and the odd vocal Reed Bunting. A young Marsh Harrier, not presumed Northern, passed through in comfort despite being harried by a Crow. A largish flock of Siskin called but refused to settle.

Down at the patch, a record count of 100+ Greylag Geese were on the marshes at Wood's End. A muddy puddle held a Herring Gull and intriguingly a Green Sandpiper. A march round to the hides and I was able to take in the usual Long Tailed Tits, Blackbirds and the odd Redwing. Despite the noise from the rifle range, a few Mallard were loafing in the lagoon, and just as I was thinking the muddy margins looked promising, presumably the same Green Sandpiper dropped in. A good bird for the site, and this individual fed and settled well, unlike the birds I saw in August. A female Sparrowhawk was also out for a feed, much to the annoyance of the local thrushes.

Finally, I caught up with some Siskin on the patch, a mixed flock including Goldfinch flew overhead as I headed back to the car. Less water about today, although wellies still a must.

Hoping for some Owls, I finished off at the marshes around Langley and Claxton. The Corvid roost is by now quite a spectacle, and a single Barn Owl made for a nice finish to the afternoon as darkness fell.

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Everything is about edge

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 ...

Grey Phalarope- a new patch bird

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

Claxton-on-sea!

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

Notes from the valley

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