Pochard at Pensthorpe

Sunday 7th February 2016

It was a cold and windy day, cloudy with some sunny spells. We might have been frozen, but the waterfowl didn't seem to mind too much. I have a soft spot for tufted ducks, I'm not sure if it is due to their attempt at a rebellious hair style, their lemon yellow eyes or their daintily sculpted beak, but I do like these little diving ducks. I'm always equally fascinated by the elaborate feet of the coot, the one pictured below tolerated my close proximity and just kept munching on grass as I photographed it. Somewhat less easy to capture was a decent shot of the small raft of pochard on 'Old Squaw Lake', all were hiding their heads under wings and hiding entirely under trees. A couple eventually ventured further onto the open water, showing their bright berry red eyes.

Tufted duck

Coot

Pochard

As much as I admire these three bird species, they were not a surprise to find here. One very surprising find was a smew (red head) on the same lake. Now, Pensthorpe do have smew in their collection, but their captive birds are found on the Mill Pond not far from the conservation shop. It is a possibility that this individual had snuck through the fence, but there was no way of seeing whether it was ringed as its legs were below the waterline... But, I can still hope that this was a wild individual rather than an escapee.

Our walk today was brisk, trying to keep warm in the chilly conditions. We made it to the woodland hide where there were woodland birds in abundance. I have written before about my hunt for a nuthatch as this is one of the few places where I get to see them well. Luckily, one did show itself to feed and perch on the trunks of surrounding trees. They can be domineering over the bird feeders, but they are beautiful birds with their dusky blue backs, apricot blushed breasts and black bandana around their eyes, making them look like bank robbers of the bird world.

All of the hides were deserted, maybe it was that we were relatively early visitors, or whether the cold conditions had put others off, it was nice to have them to ourselves. After an equally brisk walk through the woodland and around the the wildflower meadow, we made our way to the wader scrape hides. These hides are often all-or-nothing when we visit, but today was pretty spectacular. When we arrived, there were a good number of lapwing (for which I've just discovered the collective noun is desert or deceit!) alongside teal, wigeon, shelduck and others. Suddenly the flock lifted and scattered and to our amazement, a peregrine falcon sped into view and vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. Whether it was just passing and wasn't hungry, or was just scattering the birds for its own amusement before passing through, is anyone's guess.

Snow bunting and Snipe at Cley

On Sunday, we visited NWT Cley Marshes. Last time I visited here, we saw very little and got pelted with hail stones before we turned tail and ran for home. Thankfully, this visit was more successful! The weather was mild, if cloudy and a little windy along the coast line.

We began our visit in one of the hides not far from the visitor centre. Looking out over the beautiful flat landscape dotted with birds, we could just about pick out a number of common snipe keeping well hidden in the long grasses on the islands breaking up the marshes. Above them and the waders, wigeon and other ducks, two marsh harriers wheeled above, hinting at a sky dance. As they came closer, it was clear the male was carrying something in his talons, which, in one spectacularly smooth maneuver, he passed to the female. A harrier food pass! What a wonderful way to begin our visit.

As we began the long walk out to the see front, the grasses were in full voice in the wind, the air full of their fizzma. I am convinced that I saw a bearded tit dive from one stand of grass to another, but in the wind it was definitely not going to make a reappearance for confirmation, so we moved on. Some other friendly visitors tipped us off about a flock of roughly 20 snow buntings on the shingle by the sea. Not quite knowing what we were looking for, eventually, we stumbled across them just as they took flight. A flock of white-pink-brown flashes of wings and underbellies and then they were gone - rising high and descending far along the shore.

As we continued our windy walk, the sky began to clear and something spooked a large flock of lapwings. Their stubby wings eye-catching in white and black against the bright sky, they floated across the clouds. Their outlines stark and rigid against the fluffy shapes high above. They were unsettled and would not land, allowing us to appreciate their prowess and agility.

Our last large group of birds of the day was a huge gaggle of brent geese, all softly chatting to each other in their monotonous but sweet calls.

Blue butterflies and darting dragonflies at Strumpshaw

Last Sunday had good weather for cycling, so rather than driving to Strumpshaw Fen as we usually would, we decided to attempt the cycle out from Norwich. It took a while, but was a satisfying ride. Arriving slightly(!) more exhausted than usual, we were cheered by seeing a young blackbird sitting atop the 'Nature trails' sign outside the reception hide.

Aware of time and the fact that we would need to cycle home after our visit, we didn't complete a full circuit, but instead followed the Fen trail to Fen hide, Tower hide, then returned along the same route back to reception.

Stopping at the pond dipping station not far from the reception, common darters alighted regularly on the wooden fence. In the process of trying to photograph one, a fly took my camera's focus instead, resulting in the image below. Eventually, an opportunity presented itself to photograph an un-obscured common darter dragonfly. The other dragonflies we saw were too fast for me to photograph, but included brown hawkers, emperors and black-tailed skimmers.

The usual birds of the reserve were remarkably quiet, but the butterflies were out in force. On the short trail to Fen hide, a painted lady landed, sunning itself on the dry mud of the 'path'. Except for the individuals I have raised and released with my classes at school, I had not seen a painted lady in the UK before.


There were three stars of the show in Fen hide. From speaking to other visitors, we had just missed a kingfisher, but we had other avian species to occupy us. A young marsh harrier had claimed a spot in a small tree not far from the hide. After a few minutes of waiting and watching, a black swan gracefully swam into view, preening itself in the shallow water. A bittern also appeared a way back, lightly skimming over the reeds before descending and vanishing again.


We lingered by the buddleia where, on our last visit, we saw a swallowtail butterfly. No swallowtails today, despite hearing news of the second brood being on the wing, but plenty of other butterflies taking the limelight and looking glorious in the sunshine. The brimstones and red admirals looked particularly impressive today, with the sun back lighting their delicate forms.


Before we even reached Tower hide we could hear the lovely, incessant calling of a desert of lapwings. Entering the hide painted a more detailed scene; intermingled with the sea of purpley-green lapwings were orange-beaked ruffs, a single common tern, a royal looking cormorant on a throne of driftwood, bright white little egrets, statuesque grey herons and snow white mute swans. Above them all were dancing marsh harriers silhouetted against the bright sky. There was also a sleeping wader which has proved a bit of a mystery to identify. I think it may be a ruff, but opinion on iSpot is split, so I would appreciate any suggestions.


After watching the antics of lapwings chasing each other and the mallards that got in their way, we made our way back to the reception. On the way, we encountered a gentleman from Butterfly Conservation and some photographers who had discovered a common blue butterfly. They very kindly let me take a couple of pictures before continuing on our way. A good way to end the walk and start the long cycle home.

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.

Pensthorpe and the elusive nuthatch

Tufted duck

For the second time this week, we've made it to one of my favourite places. I love half term holidays. As always, I made sure I bought food to feed their captive ducks and geese; it's always good to make friends and have a horde of hungry water birds following you around for a bit...

The wilder side of the park is my preferred area though. The first lake you pass is called 'Old squaw lake', as always, plentiful in its numbers of tufted ducks, and this time there were a few pochard to be seen, as well as a great crested grebe.

Pochard

After crossing the River Wensum, the trail heads into woodland and the first hide that you come to is usually fruitful if only in terms of numbers of birds if not in terms of diversity. My elusive bird this day was the nuthatch; this is the only place where I ever manage to see one. After scanning the feeders and seeing numerous chaffinches, blue tits, great tits, a few coal tits, woodpigeon, a stock dove and some mallards waiting below to see what would fall, we settled down for a wait. Luckily, one nuthatch did make itself known, although fleetingly at first and on the farthest feeder, staying to grab just one seed, then flitting back into the safety of the trees. Eventually, it seemed to gain confidence, came closer to the hide and stayed in the open for longer. Long enough for me to take a few snaps.

Male chaffinch

The walk through the woodland was pretty, although there proved few birds to be spotted until we reached the hides at the wader scrape. As often happens, the birders already present told us of what we'd only just missed: a peregrine falcon hunting lapwings. Unfortunately he didn't make a return whilst we were there, but there were plenty of water birds to be seen; a little egret strutting on its stilt-like legs, plenty of lapwing taking to flight and landing, teal, shelduck, oystercatcher, shoveler, tufted ducks, cormorants...

Nuthatch

Making our way back to the entrance, we passed through the 'Millenium Garden', where there were great swathes of snowdrops in flower. There had been other bunches around the park, but these were the most we had seen. A sign that spring is truly arriving in Norfolk.









Full species list; 29 wild bird species spotted in all:

The wader scrape

• House sparrow
• Green finch
• Blue tit
• Great tit
• Coal tit
• Chaffinch
• Nuthatch
• Long tailed tit
• Wood pigeon
• Stock dove
• Pheasant
• Blackbird
• Robin
• Coot
• Moorhen
• Greylag geese

Little egret

• Egyptian geese
• Mallard
• Lapwing
• Shoveler
• Tufted duck
• Pochard
• Teal
• Shelduck
• Oystercatcher
• Little egret
• Cormorant
• Black-headed gulls
• Great crested grebe

Buckenham Marshes

It was a cold, clear day at Buckenham Marshes, with frozen streams and frosty paths. This didn't stop the wigeon in their hundreds though. From stepping foot across the rail line, we could hear their whistling calls and see huge flocks nervously taking off and landing at the slightest shadow overhead. A teal or two were nestled amongst them, looking for security in the flock. Lapwings squared off at each other across the field, and robins laid claim to their territories. Rooks fed together in the fields and took off 'cawing' to the nearest clump of trees as we passed. The odd wren flitted across our path, and a kestrel hovered overhead. A perfect stroll in the winter sunshine.

A hare amongst the wigeons

Only the second time we've ever visited RSPB Buckenham Marshes (not far from our usual RSPB Strumpshaw Fen), and for the second time it was raining. That doesn't seem to put off the residents and migrants though. We hadn't walked far from the car park, when we heard the plaintive whistling of a wigeon. Just off the path, the other side of the stream were a little posse of male and female wigeon. They sat quietly for some time, then one starting making a strange reverberating sound, obviously irritated by his counterparts, and starting snapping at them. We decided to leave them be and carry on towards the single hide.

A hare began trotting, then bolting away from the path, and towards more unseen and unsuspecting wigeon, hiding in a hidden channel. As much as I don't like to anthropomorphise, I'm sure it ran at them intentionally, and for fun, as a huge flock took off, alarm calling, and landed further away on the opposite bank. Their alarm was not helped by a large and solitary marsh harrier flying lazily overhead, seemingly uninterested in an apparently easy meal.

From behind us we heard countless calls of 'jack, jack, jack', and upon turning around, were greeted with the sight of a mixed flock of jackdaws and rooks heading towards the telephone lines. Buckenham marshes hosts a large rookery (according to some sources, the largest in Europe), with tens of thousands of rooks and jackdaws. They settled all along the telephone wires leading from the train platform, and they continued along them for as far as the eye could see.

The final flourish was a flock of lapwings skimming over the ground and water, their wings flashing black and white as they flew and turned.