An update of minuscule importance

Common Cranes being hoaxed, a Spanish Sparrow shagging our Sparrows, a Long-eared Owl at a 'secret' mid-Norfolk location and an Iceland Gull influx are just some of the stories emanating from Norfolk and further afield. These tales all share one thing- I have nothing to do with any of them! Post-OFSTED I am just happy to be alive, my last few weeks have seen me struggling to maintain a work-life balance. However, I put all of that behind me today with a jaunt to Happisburgh. I searched the cliff face in hope of Snow Bunting or maybe Twite, but had to settle for James and Ossie out for a walk! The Scoter flock at sea numbered around 60, and after flying landed close in next to a Red-throated Diver. James picked out a dark looking Herring Gull with a streaky head, probably one of those Argentatus things.
We then drove further inland, searching some farmland. A Common Buzzard was harassed by one very persistent Crow, and a second Barn Owl of the day was seen. 2 Kestrels were seen perched, and as the light faded 2 Chinese Water Deer came out to feed at the field's edge. I had heard a strange call earlier, which I am fairly sure came from a Little Owl. Habitat certainly looked spot on. Driving back, a mixed Thrush flock and a Bullfinch made for a nice finish.
The Surlingham year list is slow to say the least. Most of the usual suspects are on there, last week 2 Treecreeper were a welcome early addition.
Other bits and bobs have included a Woodcock bombing over the road near Croxton (almost on the school list) and the over-wintering Grey Wagtail still at The Academy.
Two weeks until half term!

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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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