Marvellous Minsmere

Whilst staying in Norfolk, we spent a day a short distance away at the RSPB reserve of Minsmere in Suffolk.

Our previous visit had also been on a Bank Holiday weekend (June 2012), and once again we were pleasantly surprised by the visitor numbers.

Late morning cuppa

The plan was to meet up with JD, and his friend Laura, for some quality natural history observation, only first, JD was detouring to Aldeburgh to buy fresh fish. And then we both discovered that the mobile phone signal in much of the reserve is rubbish, which made finding each other somewhat tricky.

Whilst we waited, Our Lass and I wandered along the embankment to the coast.

Our Lass gettin' arty with it

Looking north towards Dunwich Heath

Still unable to hook up with JD, we had a spot of lunch and then wandered off towards the Bittern Hide. Here at last I found some phone signal and discovered that we had somehow crossed paths and missed a possible rendezvous. However, tracking anti-clockwise around the scrapes, we finally met the fish-purchasing crew. Phew.

Returning to the Bittern Hide, we were not fortunate enough to glimpse the bird after which it was named. But as we sheltered from the east wind and basked in some sunshine, we certainly weren't complaining!

View from Bittern Hide, with Sizewell nuclear power station in the background

After an afternoon tea break, we said our goodbyes to JD and Laura as they headed back to Bedfordshire. We made our way to the Island Mere Hide and settled down at the opposite end to the feverish ranks of photographers who were busy snapping a pair of Garganey, feeding right in front of the hide. The noise and commotion wouldn't have been out of place during a Formula One pitstop, with machine gun bursts of shutters firing and much jostling to secure the best viewing angle. At one point, the ducks moved in front of where we were sitting, and the Alpha Camera rushed over to grab the seat next to me, almost falling off it backwards in the process. In fact, the assembled throng was so engrossed in the whole Garganeyfest, that it took Our Lass some time to make them aware that they were missing a pair of Otters out in the mere.

A rapidly-departing Otter, exit stage right

And what all the fuss was about...

Male Garganey

Mr and Mrs Garganey

When all the fuss had died down, we were finally able to hear the calls of the ducks, the Garganey sounding for all the world like someone slowly dragging their thumbnail along a comb.

As the sun set, we were treated to the sight of several Marsh Harriers quartering the marsh, their backlit plumage and silhouettes floating silently above the glowing reeds.