The wind remains but plenty of patch ticks!

Cracking morning, glad I made the effort to get up and about earlier than usual.
A pair of Oystercatcher over at Wood's End gave some hope that waders may be on the move, and on arriving at the lagoon I struck lucky. A Greenshank was feeding just to the left of the bus shelter hide, a comical scene as it dipped its upturned bill into the mud, surrounded by the brood of Mallard ducklings! A second patch tick soon followed, as a Whimbrel called and flew overhead, north. Another one soon followed. Could have sat there all day, but no food and a trip to the coast this afternoon meant that was just not possible.
Decent goings on in the scrub too, a Garden Warbler was new in and sang from the same bush as a Blackcap, allowing close scrutiny of these two variable songsters. Suprisingly good views were obtained.
Passing the Ferry House, Reed, Grasshopper and Sedge Warbler were singing and 2 House Martin were over the village. Convinced I had heard the rattle of a Lesser Whitethroat near the gun club, I waited patiently and eventually the bird in question gave brief views- another tick! A Skylark singing from the field to the South-East was also a new bird, but I couldn't find this one to admire.
A report from the hide of 6 Greenshank and a single Black-tailed Godwit from yesterday did make me a tad jealous I'll admit, but still what a morning.
Next sunday at 5.30am, the South Yare Wildlife Group are doing a walk around the reserve and then breakfast at the Ferry House. Sounds good! I was unaware such a group existed, so all being well I will go along and report back. Remember, you heard it here first.

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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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