2. Lower Wood, Ashwellthorpe

The Sun’s rays scattered by ice covered glass and grass turned into cake 
frosting; white, hard and crunchy under foot, it was a frosty winter’s morning in Norfolk. Parking at the medieval church in the village, birds could be heard calling from the suburban trees, surrounding fields and woodland. The short walk to the reserve was pleasant, a small distance along the road, then a public footpath along the perimeter of a field. The mixture of open landscape and woodland was a contrast that seemed popular with local birds of prey. A pair of buzzards took flight, greeting us upon entering the woodland over a small bridge. No sooner had we entered the woodland, and we were surrounded by smaller woodland birds calling and scattering, as well as a few chattering grey squirrels and a roe deer, before it caught sight of us. The tiny goldcrest imperceptibly moving from twig to twig and a treecreeper, somewhat more confiding, winding its way up the bark of trees nearby. 

Following the NWT arrows took us around the edge of this small reserve, with robins, blue- and great tits traversing the walkways ahead of us. Great spotted woodpeckers could be heard calling, but did not make themselves known by sight. A kestrel silently glided, carving the skyscape with long tail and arrow like wings, landing gracefully in the bare canopy. The coppiced trees provide ample cover for small birds with their almost impenetrable vertical swords of thin branches, closely packed. Larger trees twisted their gnarled trunks skyward, their asymmetry pleasing to the eye. Every tree, it seemed, filled with the calls and songs of woodland birds. As we completed the trail, a treecreeper was again at the entrance to bid us farewell.

1. Whitlingham Country Park

On the coldest weekend of the winter so far, when tidal surges had caused parts Great Yarmouth and other coastal areas to be evacuated and many reserves were partially underwater, we tried our first new area of 2017: Whitlingham Country Park.

The forecast had been for snow and sleet most of the day, but, thankfully, the sun shone brightly in a crisp, blue sky all afternoon. We arrived at the park for the final hour of daylight, hoping the cold snap had brought out foraging birds, including winter visitors. Walking briskly to fend off the cold, we took the circular walk around Great Broad. A pair of Egyptian geese plucked at the grass and called softly to each other as we passed. Great rafts of tufted ducks, accompanied by gadwall, pochard, coot and the odd great crested grebe drifted with purpose, diving below the water. Canada and greylag geese, patrolled the margins of the broad, accompanied by several pairs of mute swans.

As the Sun sank further, there was something delicious about the way the light illuminated the water’s surface, putting a spotlight on the wildfowl that danced both below and above the pool of watery winter sunlight; the reeds the fairy lights to guide visitors along the water’s edge. Silhouettes of long tailed tits flitted restlessly in the leafless tall trees, calling to other members of the gang as they flew. Blue tits, as high as they could be, their yellow breasts highlighted by the last rays of Sun. A grey heron glided along the bank, broad wings outstretched. A flock of green finches performed over the broad, settling into a naked tree, decorating its branches. Cormorants adorned yet other trees, settling far apart. A wonderful end to a wintry day.

A Challenge for 2017

Late last year, I ran out of time to update my blog often, but that doesn't mean we weren't out and enjoying the sights and sounds of wild Norfolk.

This year, I've decided to set myself a challenge. I love the reserves we visit regularly, but I haven't discovered anywhere new for a while. This year, I would like to visit as many different reserves in and around Norfolk as I can, hopefully with the added bonus of increasing my life list of species and my identification skills.

I have a few places on my list to start with, but I would appreciate any local knowledge in finding more, so if you have any ideas, please do leave a comment below!

Staying Wild

Lingering in a forest against an increasingly darkening night, listening to the paranormal churring of nightjars, watching their angular silhouettes carve through the dusky sky. This is how I spent one evening in June, part of ’30 Days Wild’. An incredible experience and a life ‘tick’ for me, it was a wildlife spectacle I’d been longing to see. But that’s not all I discovered when making the most of those 30 days.

I’m a high school science teacher and I escape from the trials and tribulations of term time by venturing to nature reserves and wild places at the weekends. It’s something I’ve come to see as essential for my wellbeing and to keep myself human. However, what ’30 Days Wild’ made me realise, by attempting to record what I’d done, is that I actually do something wild every day without realising it. It’s something that generates conversations with colleagues and pupils too, even if it is just to check that I’m OK because I’m rescuing earthworms from the playground.

I tried to publicise ’30 Days Wild’ at work, to other members of staff and pupils. I got permission to show ‘Project Wild Thing’ to my two PSHE classes. The message didn’t get through to all of them, but one girl saw me after a lesson to tell me she had downloaded the ‘Wild Time’ App and she was spending more time outside as a result. A colleague found me to tell me an orchid was growing outside one of the offices, so we banded together to make sure the contractors didn’t mow the lawn. I took out our STEMM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Maths and Medicine) Club to scatter more wildflower seeds in our wildlife area / meadow. We made bee hotels and found suitable locations for them, which the girls who attended the club really enjoyed. The trouble is, most pupils are already so distanced and disengaged from the natural world, despite living in a rural community, that it can be difficult to reignite the spark of curiosity and interest in their young minds; especially when there are so many other things to compete with.

In Norfolk, it felt like it rained every single day in June, which meant there were some days where I had to get a little more creative. We had recently moved house, so as well as watching wildlife at work, I was spending my spare time turning our garden into a wildlife haven. I researched and bought bee friendly flowers – sedum, polemonium, honeysuckle, scabious, geranium (cranesbill, not the plants that most call ‘geraniums’ but are actually pelargoniums) – then tried to photograph and identify the bees that visited them. We installed an insect hotel, which, at the time of writing in early August, is slowly being populated by leaf cutter bees. I planted and harvested pollinator friendly herbs in hanging baskets and we watched the birds and their fledglings march around our little garden. The fast favourites were the fledgling pied wagtails who would feed, then patrol along the washing, occasionally cleaning their bills on our clothes. Of course, we visited nature reserves too, including one of our usual haunts, RSPB Strumpshaw Fen, where we were lucky enough to spot a particularly obliging swallowtail butterfly, a Norfolk hawker dragonfly, as well as a scarce chaser and an otter all in one visit.

Nature reserves have their place and there is no way I’d ever want to be without them, but what ’30 Days Wild’ has made me realise is that it’s the little everyday encounters with and interactions about nature that matter. It’s the ‘drip, drip, drip’ rather than one big experience that will make more people care about the things we already love, how it is a part of and an enhancement to our lives. Not just limited to a few areas, but all around us, wherever we are. 

#30DaysWild - Days 18-21

 Bus stop wildlife

This morning I had to wait, sheltering from persistent rain (the sort that gets you soaked no matter how long you stay out in it), at our local bus stop. I amused myself by watching a slightly soggy song thrush foraging in the damp grass. The thrush must have chosen a successful patch, as it was soon joined by a female blackbird before it decided to take flight.

 Cinnabar surprise

Two mornings in a row at the bus stop. Only one morning sat in the rain though, today was quite pleasant with some cloud and sunshine. The bus never did arrive, but we enjoyed listening to the prolific birdsong from the surrounding trees. A carrion crow also decided to display to apparently thin air, arching and shouting as it did so. As the weather was being surprisingly cooperative, we decided to BBQ for lunch, and were equally surprised by the showy pink flashes of the hind-wings of a cinnabar moth who decided to join us.

 Strawberry moon

A day of very heavy rain showers, whipping the pupils up into a frenzy and creating a small lake on the tennis courts. We watched the lake form from the fat rain drops hitting every-which-way in awe during our department meeting. I was then equally stunned at the visible evaporation of the puddles on my drive home in the sun not long afterwards. The evening was filled with natural phenomena and wildlife surprises. The sky had completely cleared by moon rise, leading to astonishing views of the intensely bright moon, the likes of which I may be lucky enough to see once more (the next is in 46 years' time). Picking up my binoculars, so much detail was visible, the impact craters and scars marking the surface were apparent in such clarity that I've never before achieved through binoculars. Looking out into the night caused us to notice something else - our first bat above our garden. Apparently rather small, I would guess at a pipistrelle. Having windows open also meant we heard more than usual; tonight, a baby tawny owl calling from the large trees in the nearby park.

A school orchid

A barn owl gliding on its broad wings accompanied me on a short stretch of my drive this morning, presumably making the most of the drier weather before the next wet spell. A wonderful way to start the day. On my arrival at work, I bumped into a fellow wildlife enthusiast who pointed out that an orchid was on flower in the middle of a small patch of lawn on the school site. I went, armed with my phone, to try to figure out what it might be... it looks to me like it could be a common spotted orchid. A dainty and sweet smelling pyramidal bloom, not something we've noticed at school before.

#30DaysWild - Days 13-17

RSPB Norwich Local Group Meeting

The first Monday of every month is when our local group meets for an indoor talk. This month's talk was by Mark Thomas from the RSPB, he is part of their investigations team for wildlife crime. He told us of some shocking stories with appalling outcomes. I genuinely thought that harsher punishments would be handed out to wildlife criminals rather than what many would see as trivial fines or prison sentences of only a few months. Especially when, as per one of the examples he used, an entire population of nightjars and nightingales were wiped out at a county level due to successive egg collecting across several breeding seasons. Certainly food for thought which left me feeling quite angry about the whole situation. The key thing is, if you see a wildlife crime taking place, whatever it may be, always note down the vehicle number plate to report to the RSPB or the police.

Moroccan mint

After moving house, I decided I would try something different with my hanging baskets this spring. I wanted to make two hanging herb baskets. In each, I planted a Moroccan mint in the centre, surrounded by a dwarf lavender, a creeping rosemary, variegated oregano and lemon thyme. All had the 'perfect for pollinators' logo and smelled delicious - a treat for the pollinators as well as us. Never having grown herbs in containers before, I didn't realise quite how prolific the mint plant would become... It has started to (somehow) escape the bottom of the hanging basket and was greatly over shadowing the lavender and rosemary. I decided to prune it, but rather than waste so much mint, I looked up ways of storing it - freezing roughly chopped mint cubes in ice cubes seems to be the convention, and it appears to work rather well. It certainly went down nicely in a glass of Pimms... 

Moroccan mint leaves

Lemon thyme flowers

An evening walk

Today was slightly less wet than we've become used to. When I arrived home from work, I attempted to rearrange our bird feeders to make them less of an easy target for the wood pigeon and to encourage our small birds to come back. All have disappeared over the last week, except our reliable and loud male chaffinch. We also took a walk through the park and got caught in a short downpour - the delicious feel and small of cool summer rain. Throughout it all, the birds kept singing. We heard the songs of blackbirds, robins and chaffinches as well as the monotonous cooing of a stock dove well hidden amongst the branches.

Honeysuckle and bird song

I always try to take advantage of the fact we now have a garden, even if only a small one. Before I went to work, I took five minutes to stand in the morning sunshine, close my eyes and listen. There were birds everywhere around me: chiff chaff calling from the park; a chaffinch or maybe two, trilling seemingly at varying distances; a small charm of goldfinches flying overhead; a pair of house martins chattering to each other above, alongside a few silent swifts gravely soaring side by side; jackdaws accusing 'Jack' as they flew.

The English honeysuckle is opening up and living up to its name of 'Heaven Scent'.

Oxeyes

As a last ditch attempt at growing some wildflowers from seed, I scattered a great number of oxeye daisy seeds in a tray. It seems they have all germinated and are doing rather well. I started pricking out seedlings this evening, 30 of them, but there are many more to go!

#30DaysWild - Days 11&12 - RSPB Minsmere and allotmenting

Well, it's certainly been a wild weekend. The photos I managed to take at Minsmere don't do justice to the phenomenal amount of wildlife we actually saw...

We arrived at RSPB Minsmere in early afternoon, so headed straight to the Discovery Centre for the picnic area. It was far quieter than we imagined for a weekend during #Springwatch, and genuinely debated eating our lunch on the play area, in the mock-up sand martin bank... but as a group of teachers, we decided to be sensible and use the picnic table instead. As we sat next to the swaying oak trees, we were joined by a single robin and a bushy tailed squirrel, and we sweltered in the warm humidity of the surrounding air. A female black cap made her presence known at the top of a small tree.

Walking through the cool woodland, we were surprised to find great tits nesting in a number of the brightly coloured bird boxes directly next to the visitor trails. We could hear them calling to the parent birds for food as we passed, but did not linger to avoid disturbing them. My attention was also caught by the calls of a great spotted woodpecker. We looked up to be greeted by the face of a woodpecker chick poking out of its tree stump home. Soon, the adult visited to feed its young and the chick retreated back in, with only a shadow of its bill visible.


We headed to bittern hide. It was packed and we had to stand, but that did not spoil the beautiful landscape sprawling in front of us. A huge marsh harrier made a close pass to the hide, a beautiful and majestic bird, it's dark 'fingers' clearly visible at the end of its wings. Bursts of the babble of Cetti's warbler surrounded us, but there seemed little to see in the afternoon heat. A water rail made a run for it across a small open inlet, its long legs carrying it quickly across. A hobby graced the sky, flying directly towards the hide, before scything off to one side and disappearing over the trees. Then, a bird which I always try and fail to see at Minsmere appeared. A bittern flew out from almost directly underneath the hide and landed in the reeds a few metres away. The sun caught its wings beautifully, each feather showing in exquisite detail. Almost as suddenly as it appeared, it vanished again, leaving me wondering if we'd all just imagined this other-worldly encounter. However, it began booming and eventually showed movement, reeds flattening in its wake and an almost imperceptible bill and head, with those dark bars near the eyes, moved up and remained vertical for some time, before it slunk further into the reeds and disappeared.

On our way to the next hide, we noticed cameras set up on a number of stickleback nests. Maybe this will be another 'Spineless Si' on Springwatch?

Looking over the side of the boardwalk, which was flanked with early marsh orchids, we noticed a small, long-tailed, auburn coloured bird flitting back and forth - there were bearded tits!!! None were close or still enough to photograph, but watching them through binoculars was treat enough for me today, with their blue heads and ridiculous moustaches, they were impressively agile flyers and disappearing artists. As soon as they landed, they were gone from sight.

In the hide, we watched a pair of reed warblers either squabbling or courting, it was hard to tell, right next to the windows. An otter made an appearance, bobbing along at the very back of the water body. Marsh harriers graced the sky here too, gliding across the fenland.

Walking back, we tried the adder trail, but rather than adders, it was full of rabbits and dragonflies (mainly four-spotted chasers), as well as a young scurry of squirrels. I have to love the common British wildlife as much as the rare!

Wildlife at the allotment is my focus of today. I have to admit that I haven't visited in a while, but I was pleased by the wildlife we saw in the brief spell we had whilst the sun was still shining. Digging over a patch of soil, I came across ladybird larvae, which I tried my best to save. Poppies which had self seeded over some of ours and the surrounding patches were humming with bees and the larkspur I diligently tried to raise indoors last year were thriving in the great outdoors. A robin joined us to hoover up grubs we were unearthing and a blackbird was chinking from nearby trees. Swifts screamed overhead and gradually got lower and lower with the changing air pressure, until the heavens opened and we got a proper basking (drenched in a heavy rain shower).