Spring Migrants Workshop at Cley Marshes

It was a blustery day, but the rain held itself at bay as we went to an interesting and informative workshop about the migrant birds passing through Cley in spring. There were eight of us in the
workshop, of varying levels of expertise, but we all found it eye-opening in one way or another.

Our day began with an indoor seminar-like session which introduced us to the key identification features of birds we were likely to (or hoping to) see on the marsh. The rest of the day was spent out on the marshes looking for these critters and pointing out these features in the field. We saw (or heard) a total of 35 different bird species, including a number of firsts for me. Here's the list of what we saw, with a few photos and details:

Sandwich tern - these slick birds were much louder than their charismatic and slender shapes suggest they should be.

Little tern - only one, obvious amongst the larger and shoutier sandwich terns.

Avocet

Lapwing with chicks - certainly winning the 'cute' prize of the day

Black-headed gull

Little egret

Mallard

Gadwall

Greylag geese with goslings

Black-tailed godwit

Bar-tailed godwit - a surprise siting, even for our guide, who didn't include it in his earlier presentation due to the unlikelihood of us seeing one.

Red shank

Spotted redshank

Ringed plover

Little ringed plover

Curlew 

Skylark

Oystercatcher

Ruff - the first time I have ever seen these beautiful birds, I had no idea about their huge variation in plumage, with each we saw being an 'improvement' on the last.

Dunlin

Sanderling

Swallow

Swift

House martin

Sand martin

Shoveler

Shelduck

Pied white wagtail - another bird that I take for granted, but today I learnt about the different races of this unassuming bobbing bird.

Mute swan

Marsh harrier

Kestrel

Reed warbler - heard only among the reeds

Sedge warbler - again, heard only

Lesser whitethroat - deep inside a road side hedge, another of our heard only birds.

I certainly felt more educated about our migrant birds and our more common wading birds and warblers by the end of the day, although it did also make me want a much better pair of bins! Let's hope at least some of my new gained knowledge sticks!

Foxley Bluebells

This time last year, I was really sad - I had managed to miss the overwhelming displays of bluebells in Foxley Woods by a week. This year, I made sure I didn't miss them; I visited once a week for the last three weeks, seeing the bluebells and indicator flower species at varying stages.

We first visited on 19th April. The blue of the knodding heads was just starting to emerge and the intoxicating sweet smell was only evident at point blank range. Wood anemones and wood sorrel were in full bloom, their open white/pink faces all the more obvious amongst the blue and green of the woodland floor.

Our walk had the sound track of chiff chaffs and was painted the blue of bluebells, the white and pink of wood anemones and wood sorrel and the yellow of the few remaining primroses.

When I returned the following weekend, the blue was all the more intense for the overcast sky and little sunlight penetrating the woodland. The bluebells were now at the stage where you could walk around a corner and be hit by a wave of their perfume, smelling almost like nothing else.

Our last visit, on 4th May, saw the bluebells at their showiest. It was the busiest we had ever seen the woods. Usually, ours is one of only two or three cars in the carpark, but today, it was overflowing, as it probably had been all weekend. A sure sign that the flowers were in full bloom and calling to all those who could hear them.

The blue was now so intense that I kept having to double-take the woodland floor, such an alien colour to be surrounding us in all directions - surely it should all be a greeny brown, not such a rich and showy colour!? The sunlight hitting the floor did not bleach them out, as expected, but made the contrast to the dark and mossy trees all the more apparent, and made the bluebells stand out all the more, not that they needed any help.

This has to be one of my favourite and most treasured wildlife spectacles. One that I am determined not to miss again.

Ecologists reunion at Sculthorpe Moor

Well, a small reunion of five university friends, a mixture of ecologists and environmental scientists; although we were complimented by being asked a number of times if we were all students, despite us all graduating four to five years ago.

Only my second visit to the reserve, and the first for everyone else, we were again spoiled for the abundance and diversity of wildlife we saw. To start off our afternoon, there was a mistle thrush in the trees surrounding the car park, the first I have spotted in a very long time. The three of us who travelled in the first car stood in the car park and absorbed the surrounding birdsong until the second car arrived.

The air was cool and the sky patchy as we walked along the dusty track to the reserve entrance and the first viewing panel. This was the most fruitful location for birds on our first visit here; I was disappointed at the emptiness of the space when we arrived this time. However, we were soon treated to a range of avian visitors, as were we at the Frank Jarvis (Woodland Hide); a proud mother mallard with four ducklings; marsh, coal, blue, great and long tailed tits; treecreepers, nuthatches, green- and chaffinches.




Crossing the bridge from dry wood to wet wood, a collection of other visitors were watching a hole in the river bank. Finding it unlikely to be a water vole as the hole seemed far too small, we stood, watched and waited until a whisp of brown fur pelted up the bank and into the hole, then back again, slipping silently into the water of the dyke. We watched the exploits of this water shrew until it disappeared into a different hole and out onto the bank into the mid-length grasses. The first water shrew I've knowingly seen, we saw another preening itself on the bank of dry wood / fen near the dyke viewing platform; small, fluffy and unquestionably cute, this too slid noiselessly into the water and disappeared.

Along the edges of the boardwalk, one friend was constantly excited by the invertebrates she was coming across and photographing, but my excitement was for the first Odonata I've seen this year: a large red damselfly. From her colourings; very dark abdominal segments and yellow antehumeral stripes, I would guess at a female of the melanotum colour form. Another highlight of the walk to the Fen hide was the 'mole fortress', a treasure that I had no idea even existed. Apparently, a large structured molehill which allows the mole to escape wet conditions when on land liable to flooding, the elevated 'fortress' gives the mole a high, dry and safe refuge.



From the Whitley (Fen) hide, we were treated to a pair of nuthatches foraging; reed buntings; three bullfinches (one male, two females); majestic circling marsh harriers, which we later found out were prospecting nest sites, causing the path to the scrape hides to be closed, and a buzzard which allowed us several flybys. A tour had finished here too, they told us that they had seen a cuckoo and a red kite, which unfortunately we had not, but it's good to know they're there.



The more I visit this reserve, the more I fall in love with it. Friendly volunteers around the park to point out species and help with i.d., wildlife all over the place, from the 'common' to the obscure and a beautiful habitat. What more could I ask for?

Changes of season

During the Easter holiday, we have visited Taunton, Cambridge and a few places in Norfolk. Now, I have already mentioned my first chiff chaff of the year in my blog last week, but there have been substantially more changes that I've been noticing.

The first has been the crocus, one of my favourite flowers, passing its center stage position to the primrose, both wild and cultivated. They have gone from being slightly folorn, like this example in Taunton at the beginning of the two week break, to prolific blooms all over the place now. It goes to show what a significant change only two weeks have made to our plant life.

Unfortunately, these blooms came too late for one of our beehives at school. Although one is big and happy, the other hive seems to have starved, despite us providing it with food. Whilst checking the hives during the holiday, I also saw that our oystercatchers have returned, all three of them. Perhaps we will get see them breed successfully this year...

Other changes have been not only been due to the season, I feel, but perhaps to a change in food availability. Growing up in Cambridge, I can always remember the flocks of house sparrows and starlings we would have in the garden and nesting under the tiles of the house next door, along with a few blue and great tits. Now, my parents garden is host to a full range of birds, 15 species I counted on our Easter weekend visit, including a male black cap; a bird I rarely see and one neither of my parents had ever seen before. Is this due only to my suggestion of putting out sunflower hearts as a food source? Or is it due to the development of areas of previously 'un-utilised' land that has driven them into the city and gardens for food?

Our birdfeeders outside our flat in Norwich are bursting with life now too. The green finches have returned post winter; we have at least two healthy looking pairs, with squabbling males and nonchalant females, with the odd copulation on the fence. A few goldfinches have finally crept back in after the winter months, and our first ever chaffinches, who are clearly not used to using bird feeders, have arrived. I was distracted from my school work only a few days ago by a feisty long tailed tit who had decided to perch on the window frame and peck at our windows, sounding like he was asking to be let in.

I'm looking forward to the arrival of more birds as the migrants continue to arrive, but the botanical spectacle I'm now waiting for is the explosion of bluebells at Foxley Woods...

The First Chiffchaff

It's Easter and it appears spring is all around. On a visit to Pensthorpe with a dear friend a few days ago, from the moment we entered the woodland to the time we left the reserve we could hear the same familiar call of spring and summer: "chiff-chaff... chiff-chiff-chiff-chiff-chaff". This was my first of the year and, for me, it is one of the harbingers of spring.

We had fun, as per usual, feeding their captive collection of wildfowl, but the real treats were when we reached the 'wild' end of the reserve and watched from hides and walked through woodland. A small muntjac trotted past us, seemingly oblivious to our presence. Oystercatchers also seemed to feel the vibe of spring, as what appeared to be one sneaking up on another, turned out to be a more amorous encounter...

Across the several lakes and from the hides at the scrape, we spotted numerous other waterfowl; tufted ducks in good numbers, avocets preening and dabbling, shelduck sporting their shocking red bills and lapwing beginning to perform their tumbling display flights with their beautiful bubbling call. Pretty little barnacle geese were also sunning themselves on the grass, and beneath the captive white naped cranes, we spotted two mottled brown eggs. Their is something joyous about witnessing these early stages of life being 'created', and seemed especially fitting for a trip preceding Easter weekend.

Another befitting Easter symbol was the tiny baby rabbit, which could easily have fitted on the palm of my hand, who could only be betrayed by his hiding place in the fork at the base of a tree by his two hind feet jutting out. Apart from that, in colour, it was perfectly camouflaged, so I hope it escaped the beady eyes of any passing predator. This bunny was just outside the woodland hide, where we were treated to flocks of chaffinches, listening to their spinking calls, greenfinches calling "zveeeeeee", the sweet drumming of a great spotted woodpecker who also momentarily flew into view, a treecreeper who came tantalisingly close to the viewing panel and many of the other usual woodland birds hoovering up seeds.

Walking through the woodland, we played a game of hide and seek with both chiffchaff and nuthatch, both of whom would fly into sight and disappear among the shadows of branches and twigs, making us doubt our own vision, until they would appear again, just a little further along and vanish almost as instantly. A small dynasty of goldcrest played the same game with us, softly calling in their high pitch tones, they would only betray themselves occasionally by zipping from one branch to another.

At the end of our visit, we decided to enter the aviary where turtle dove and bearded tits can be found. Never having seen either of these species in the wild, I find the purring of turtle doves strangely electrifying; so familiar, yet exotic compared to our other doves. Bearded tits I adore, and are one of the species that I long to see in the wilds of Norfolk. However, I couldn't resist an 'awww' shot of this couple snuggled together in front of the nesting reeds. I may make these my 2015 challenge to see in the wild.

'Hiraeth'

This is a long overdue blog post about a fascinating talk I went to as part of the 'Norfolk Festival of Nature' on 27th February. The talk was by naturalists Patrick Barkham and Matthew Oates and was on the subject of 'Spirit of Place'. This really got me thinking about the reasons behind why I visit the places I do, and why I feel the way I do when I visit them.

Matthew Oates started the talk, and introduced us to a number of Welsh terms, not all of which have direct translations into English; two which stood out the most to me were 'Hiraeth' and 'Cynefin'. Hiraeth roughly translates to mean something along the lines of longing or homesickness and Cynefin as habitat or heartland. Both are far more complicated than this though, and together they explain why I long to be out of doors at times and why, when I'm almost any wild place, I feel some sense of belonging. Sometimes this can be in places which are familiar to me or sometimes when I first visit a place, which is a phenomena I can't really explain.

I feel this way when we visit our local patch, just down the road from our flat and just off the A140; for such a 'city' location, we frequently spot kingfishers traversing the River Wensum, are still overjoyed at our chance sighting of a pair of otters, and have used it as a location to learn the calls of different birds. I miss it when we don't get the chance to do 'our walk' at least weekly, and if I go for more than two weeks without at least a walk here, or a trip to another wild place within reach of our local patch (or not), then I really do feel it. It is hard to explain this feeling of 'longing', but when I return to the outdoors, I feel more... complete? This is surely something that all wildlife enthusiasts know?

Patrick Barkham spoke of places which have this impact and we, as an audience, had the chance to discuss our ideas with both speakers, about our feelings and concerns for the natural world. Something I did not voice, but certainly something which concerns me, is the lack of people my age or younger who attended this talk. There must have only been a handful of people, out of almost a full auditorium, who were below the age of 40. Why are our younger people not concerned or interested in the natural world? Is it because, as many say, they are glued to televisions and computer games? Or is it because at key points in their lives, we have failed to make them inspired by the world around them?

As a teacher, I try to play my part in inspiring pupils about the natural world. My bird box cam had all year groups (age 11 - 18) enthralled, as did watching caterpillars morph into butterflies, then releasing them. My STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Maths) Club are embarking upon BBC Wildlife Magazine's 'Digital Schools' Project', even if I do only have three attendees.

I don't have the answers, but I hope that I make at least some difference to the number of young people vaguely aware of and interested in nature.

Sculthorpe Moor Community Nature Reserve

Mixed flock of bramblings and chaffinches

We visited a new place today, thanks to several suggestions: Sculthorpe Moor Nature Reserve, run by the Hawk and Owl Trust.

It was unbelievable; within our first five minutes, at the viewing panel closest to the entrance, we had seen bramblings (my first ever - and five of them altogether!), bullfinches (both male and female), a water rail, a great spotted woodpecker, a nuthatch and more greenfinches and chaffinches than I had ever seen in one place before. It was heard to tear ourselves away from such an interesting gathering, but after a good length of time, and several conversations with other birders about what we'd missed elsewhere, we decided to explore the rest of this magical little wildlife haven.

Water rail

We made our way along the boardwalk, starting with the woodland loop which leads to the first hide. On our way to the woodland hide, I became distracted by rustling in the dry leaf litter and a fast, well camouflaged shape shooting from one tree to another, almost faster than we were able to keep up. Patience paid off here, we watched and waited and eventually were graced with good and quite close up views of a weasel (I think... it lacked an obvious black tail, you can see a video of it here). This was a real treat, I've only ever had fleeting glimpses of these small mustelids before.

Weasel?

The woodland hide gave us stunning views of another great spotted woodpecker, as well as huge densities of chaffinch and greenfinch and a few blue-, coal- and long tailed tits. We left the hide to the cheerful song of a wren part way up the closest tree, and continued through the woodland to eventually reach the Whitley (Fen) hide. Here, we saw more bullfinches as well as a reed bunting and many more chaffinches. Finally, we headed to the scrape, but unfortunately saw nothing from the hide here. However, on the walk to these hides, there was a sudden explosion of small birds from the Fen hide which flew over the pathway; they had been spooked by the kestrel circling overhead; a perfect silhouette against the bright sky. Luckily, it didn't spook another treat for us as we re-entered the woodland; a marsh tit and a tree creeper both making their way up the bark on the same tree.

Common frog

Our final reward of the day was provided by one of the friendly volunteers at the reserve who pointed out scarlet elf cap fungi that was evident either side of the board walk, then took us to the likely location of a nuthatch nest. They had nested in this particular hole last year and had been seen this morning inspecting it again. On our way out of the restricted area, we also saw our first common frog of the year! Looks like spring has arrived!

It's always lovely to discover new places to explore through like minded people, but even better when it turns out that the new place is as full of wildlife as this small reserve seems to be. We'll definitely be making this a more visited area of our 'local patch' of Norfolk!

Nuthatch

Coal tit

Great spotted woodpecker

Male bullfinch