Couldn't resist a last stroll round the patch before heading off to the Baltic, and very glad I did. Mopped up a good few year ticks. I rarely visit the reserve early in the morning, so it was interesting to see so many Rooks around, new for the year. More Blackcaps appeared to have arrived, and I counted 5 Sedge Warbler this time around. A pair of Shelduck were back on the lagoon, and behind them a Barn Owl was out hunting in the morning sun. Sitting in the hide I watched Reed Bunting, another bird which seems to have doubled in number all of a sudden. Another first, a Reed Warbler sang unseen. The Gropper was silent today. I wandered further up the hill in hope of a flyover raptor. Looking in the direction of the village, I spotted a bird sunning itself that I have been trying to locate for a while now- Little Owl. I am fairly sure I have located the nest/roost, and it seems s/he is sharing a tree with a nesting Egyptian Goose! A Swallow on the patch was another year tick, and finally back at the car a calling House Sparrow was also a new bird!! I wonder what will have changed when I next visit in over a week's time. Should have seen a White-tailed Sea Eagle by this time tomorrow, and plenty of seaduck. Lovely stuff. For now, a couple of pics of the humble residents of Surlingham Church Marsh.
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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