A halcyon day

For our last full day in Norfolk, we headed to the north bank of the River Yare and RSPB Strumpshaw Fen, via Fairhaven Garden on South Walsham Broad. Our Lass wanted to see a Kingfisher, because they are only very occasional visitors to Orkney.

As luck would have it, as we neared the gardens, in a village called Pilson Green, a streak of electric blue shot across a roadside pond, disappeared briefly behind a stout wooden bus shelter, before it re-emerged immediately ahead of our car and headed off down the lane in front of us.

"There you go," I said, "We've seen a Kingfisher, shall we go home now?"

If that wasn't enough, whilst in Fairhaven Garden, we could hear plenty of high pitched piping (often the only indication that there's kingfishers about) and were treated to a millisecond's worth of view as one flashed across a footbridge.

Fortunately, as it was dull and overcast, the dragons were a bit more obliging on the photographic front than the birds. We watched a male Southern Hawker searching the water's edge for a mate, and there were several Common Darters in the market for some free warmth, courtesy of my hand.

I take great heart from the fact that dragons like this Common Darter do not view humans with any other thought than that we're slightly warmer than the surrounding habitat. Wise ape? Self-proclaimed pinnacle of evolution? You can keep it!

After lunch (the real reason for visiting Fairhaven), we made the short journey to Strumpshaw and set off around the Fen Trail, eyes pealed for wildlife.

In fact, our first nature moment was very relaxed, as for once the subject wasn't flying or running away. I'm guessing it's an Inkcap mushroom of some sort.

As we wandered beneath an Oak tree, a brown shape came flying low towards us along the trail. At the last minute, it hauled back on the stick and disappeared up into the branches of the Oak. It wasn't, as I first thought, a Sparrowhawk, but a Jay. I tried to take a photo of it, but there were just too many leaves in the way, and the light wasn't great either. So, we turned our attention to a nearby pond, which had a couple of darters ovipositing in tandem. After watching them for a while, we turned back to the trail, and I noticed the Jay again, busy collecting acorns. I managed a couple of photos before it disappeared once more. The first image was just a blur, the second was this...

So, the only two decent photos I've taken of Jays over the years, have both been in Norfolk, but on opposite banks of the Yare from each other. See here for the other one.

Walking along a track called Sandy Wall, we noticed several dozen Common Lizards lounging on the wooden edge to the path, trying to eke out as much heat from the wood as possible. Oddly, I wasn't so keen to pick up one of these, especially when a few had already shed their tails, presumably in response to being attacked by a predator.

Also on this stretch of the reserve were very many Guelder Rose bushes, laden with the shiniest and reddest of shiny, red berries. Some winter-visiting thrush will be grateful for all that bounty.

Turning off the main track, we made our way to a hide overlooking a small pool within the fen. As we entered, another chap was leaving and whispered that the Kingfisher was showing well.

Like we needed our "Excited" buttons pushing!

So, we sat in a hide full of folk brandishing more optics than a pub supplies exhibition, and waited. A distant Marsh Harrier briefly piqued everyone's interest, a Little Egret caused a bit of a flurry and then I whispered "Water Rail!" Cue much snapping of photographs. Me included, though I was only in single shot mode, not continuous like my fellow residents.

After a bit more of a wait, we were finally rewarded with an appearance from a Kingfisher, who ignored the wall-to-wall shutter clatter coming from the hide and flitted between several suitably-located posts.

At one point, it flew further away and hovered over a particular patch of water. And hovered, and hovered, then hovered some more. In all honesty, it hovered for longer than just about all my previous views of Kingfishers up to that day. A-maze-ing, darling!

Our Lass was really pleased.

We finally dragged ourselves away, so that other folk could enjoy the spectacle and carried on around the fen. There were many Spindle and Wayfaring trees along the path, some still bearing fruit, but most with their leaves turning red. It was in one of these latter (I think) that we found three Migrant Hawkers roosting, though it was difficult to approach closely for a photograph, as I didn't want to trample any vegetation.

And Strumpshaw was no exception to the Ivy league, with towering drifts of the climber gloriously a-buzz with insects. Here's what all the fuss was about...

If I had planned it, I couldn't have laid on such a sumptuous extravaganza of wildlife watching. The fact that it was all left to chance made it so much more exciting and it was a fitting end to our Autumn break.

Stuff On My Phone (4)

About a year ago, I shot this video one morning whilst working in the West Mainland of Orkney.

Skeins of Pink-footed Geese were passing over on their southward migration from their breeding grounds in Spitzbergen, Iceland and Greenland, to spend the Winter in the UK.

A couple of nights ago, during a lull in the weather, we heard the tell-tale sounds of this year's goose migration as we lay in bed.

A relaxing Saturday

Following our wanderings all around the Loddon area on Friday, the next day was a much more sedate affair. Once again, we left the car to its own devices and bimbled about in the immediate vicinity of the cottage.

Sisland has a lovely wee church, some of its structure dating from the 12th-13th Century. We walked around the graveyard, browsed the historical literature in the... whatever the religious equivalent of the foyer is, and then looked around the interior of the church.

As it still wasn't lunchtime yet, we walked a small loop through fields to the north of Sisland.

With a small diversion for a 4G moment.

During the afternoon, we sat and read, just read. I felt hugely guilty that we weren't 'doing anything', until I realised that on holiday it is ok to just 'be' and relax.

However, at 4pm, everything stopped for tea.

This kind of tea...

If 'doing something' is required, I can heartily recommend this particular pastime.

A 'no car' day

One of the big plus points about our chosen holiday venue was the availability of walks from the door. The tourist info at the Owl Barn also encouraged holiday-makers to consider leaving the car at home for the occasional day, and we were only too happy to oblige.

Our chosen route used lanes and tracks to head east into the small market town of Loddon. From here we planned to explore some of the Wherryman's Way, along the River Chet, before looping back through Loddon to Sisland.

Thanks to my OS map for holding steady during the photo.

As it was a hot day, we were travelling light, Our Lass with a DSLR camera and me with my bins. However, I did have the camera on my phone.

I love this pic

Y'know, it's funny, but by the time we ambled into Loddon, our talk had turned to the topic of Elevenses. It's uncanny, isn't it? What were the chances? We could remember a lovely little eatery from previous visits, but not where it was or what it was called. And so we traversed the main street, hoping to find that it was still in business. Indeed it was, hello Spoon Cake!

Following refreshments, we picked up the Wherryman's Way route and headed towards the River Chet. Before we reached the waterway, however, we discovered that the route was subject to some diversions due to emergency repair work. No matter, we decided to chance our arm (well, legs) and see how far we could go.

A suitably odo-tastic ditch on the flood plain

After little more than a kilometre, which happily did include Migrant Hawkers, Common and Ruddy Darters, we came up against a path closure and had to use the track for Chedgrave Common Farm to retrace our steps.

Fortunately, this meant that we could experience a wonderful hedgerow. As Orkney residents, we don't have much in the way of hedgerows to savour, so this was a nice surprise. The stand-out plants were the copious bushes of Ivy (Ivy? Bushes? Really?) which were just a-buzz with insects. In fact, I would go so far as to say that Ivy was a real holiday highlight, every clump was very much audibly alive. 

We didn't see many Ladybirds in Norfolk, but look at those pollen baskets on the bee.

After returning to Loddon (Oh, look, lunchtime!) and another visit to Spoon Cake, we revised our plans and headed south of the town, then circled round clockwise back to Sisland.

Another cracking hedgerow

As we walked along a field boundary by Loddon Hall, a distant movement caught our eyes. Way, way up ahead, we could see something running about and jumping in a puddle, if all the splashing we were witnessing was anything to go by. Through my bins, I identified the mystery animal as a Stoat, and we watched for ages, not daring to move, as it bounced and somersaulted around. After one last frantic bout of mad dashing, it disappeared into a crop of beet and we were able to creep up to the puddle to look for stoat signs.

The only tracks visible were these ones, photographed by Our Lass

On returning to Sisland, I spotted this post box in a wall, which would appear to date back to Victorian times.

Wheatfen Broad revisited

For several years, before our move northwards, we occasionally made the journey to Norfolk to visit Wheatfen Broad. These trips were invariably in June, in the hope of seeing Swallowtail butterflies (but we didn't), although there was always plenty else to see (which we did).

Our accommodation was not very far from Wheatfen Broad, so there was little doubt that we would pay it a visit. Whilst it was now the wrong time of year for Swallowtails, we were hopeful of a different experience with a new cast of players. Wheatfen Broad is maintained by the Ted Ellis Trust, who are maintaining the habitat as the naturalist and broadcaster would have wished. In one of those interconnected, holistic moments that occur occasionally, we discovered that one of our friends in Orkney, Anne, used to visit Wheatfen as a small girl. Her mum was friends with Ted's wife, Phyllis, and as the ladies chatted and drank tea, Anne would mooch around, dabbling in the ponds with Ted, which I'm sure has played a large part in her lifelong enthusiasm for nature and wildlife-watching. And Ted would be very pleased, too.

Back to the present and, as soon as we set foot on a boardwalk, it was apparent that it was going to be a good day. There were butterflies and bees and hornets, a few wasps and distant glimpses of hawker and darter dragonflies. A Cetti's Warbler sang from the undergrowth and the harsh cackle of a Jay could be heard from nearby woodland.

I think it would be fair to say that Wheatfen is a gem of a place, what ever the time of year. Here are a few views from our balmy day in September:

But what of the wildlife?

Well...

Whilst I was photographing this spider (which, as a confirmed arachnophobe, I only appreciated for the sunlight catching its body), Our Lass was busy making an important (for us) discovery.

Firstly, the spider,

And, secondly, Our Lass's excellent powers of observation in spotting this...

A Willow Emerald damselfly, a 'lifer' for the pair of us. It is a species that is slowly spreading west, north and south in the UK, since colonising south east Suffolk as recently as 2007.

We walked around the nature reserve all morning, seeing no-one else save for the warden, and just kept encountering more and more wildlife. It was magical, although I know it isn't magic, it's about maintaining sufficient suitable habitat through sensitive management. But it felt like magic.

Common Darter

Marsh Harrier

Grass Snake

Bumblebee species

Migrant Hawker

Hornet

Brimstone butterfly

Cricket on 5 (it had a leg missing)

After a spot of lunch at a nearby pub, we returned in the afternoon to soak up more nature. The warden happened to mention that it was high tide (and particularly high, due to the time of year and a new moon). I was initially puzzled, as during all our previous visits, this had not been a problem. Perhaps it was just luck. Because Wheatfen is a tidal marsh (it borders the River Yare), at times such as these, the water table rises and some of the paths are underwater. So we certainly soaked up more nature than we bargained for!

An impressively-large bracket fungus

Back at the Owl Barn, I discovered a male Migrant Hawker, sunbathing in a Beech hedge, a lovely end to a splendid day.

A trip to Minsmere

For our first full day in East Anglia, we travelled into Suffolk and visited RSPB Minsmere, where the order of the day was 'Wildlife, tea, cake, repeat'. Whilst there were plenty of birds to see, my photos of the day didn't reflect this, despite my futile attempts to capture images of Bearded Tits.

At this time of year, as in Orkney, so in Suffolk. There was a lot of slime mould about, in the form of Scrambled Egg mould (or Dog's Vomit mould, if you prefer, but I suspect you don't!).

We were chuffed to see species of butterfly that either aren't common or do not put in an appearance in Orkney. Here's a Comma that is trying it's darnedest to be just an autumnal leaf, honest.

And we did have great views of a Southern Hawker hunting along the vegetation at the side of a path, plenty of Migrant Hawkers, as well as countless Common Darters and the occasional Ruddy Darter.

Bench press: 20+ Common Darters and a Speckled Wood butterfly

Sympetrum sweethearts

A rather worn, male Ruddy Darter

In the evening, we returned to Sisland, and were able to enjoy further views of the Barn Owl. Later, as we settled down for the night, we could hear several Tawny Owls in some nearby trees.

North to South

'S been a while, huh?

The second half of September has been a bit of a blur, to be honest. A fortnight's holiday saw us heading south, visiting relatives en route through Scotland and England, before a week's stay in a converted barn on the Norfolk/Suffolk border, and then the return trip north, visiting yet more relatives.

We were very fortunate with the weather, the only appreciable rain being between Orkney and Fife, in both directions! The remainder of the time was dry, calm and often sunny, which meant that the East Anglian week flew by in a blaze of nature and autumnal outdoorsy-ness.

Spoiler Alert: There may have been dragons.

As mentioned above, travelling down through Scotland was rather damp, so wildlife watching opportunities were few and far between. Instead, we concentrated upon reaching J and N's home in Fife, for a catch-up and an overnight stay. The next day, we journeyed over the newly-opened Queensferry Crossing, and headed south to Yorkshire, via RSPB Leighton Moss.

View from a tree-top platform, the Sky Tower

Common Darter soaking up the warmth from a handrail of the Sky Tower.

Crossing the Pennines into Yorkshire, we camped overnight with First Born and D, and visited a smashing pub/bistro called The Fox, where a must-have photo opportunity presented itself.

Photo courtesy of First Born

Monday saw us heading further south to overnight with Second Born and S, in their home near Milton Keynes.

I was captivated by this little wooden pig, which was decorating a key press.

Finally, on Tuesday afternoon, we arrived at our holiday accommodation, adjacent to the Tithe Barn in the hamlet of Sisland. Within five minutes of our arrival, whilst I was unloading the car, Our Lass (in broad daylight) had spotted a Barn Owl quartering a nearby pasture. I had to wait a little longer for a view, but it was a good omen for the rest of our stay... in the Owl Barn.

The Owl Barn in Sisland, Norfolk.