After the warmth of Lindos, the following weekend's trip to Norfolk was back to earth with a bang. While it wasn't as cold as I have experienced on the east coast, it certainly wasn't t-shirt and shorts weather, as I'd acclimatised to over there! The plan was to meet with Steve and Ann at Titchwell, but I couldn't resist calling into Thornham on the way, and as it turned out, neither could they, as we bumped into them at the car park!
Steve spotted a spoonbill out on the marshes which gave us a fright, when it started to fly towards us. Neither of us had our cameras on us, and after a dash back to grab them, we managed to pick the wrong channel to watch, as it flew past us down the other one, and off into the distance. Swine!
At Titchwell, we were slightly disappointed to see the water level in the freshwater marsh quite high, which favours the wintering ducks, and pushes all the waders into the distance. Near the first hide were teal and wigeon, but just too far off were 100s of golden plover, mostly snoozing with their heads tucked under a wing.
Wandering down to the beach, we tried to see what a few groups of birders were peering at through their scopes on the sea. Even walking down to the mud and rocks, closer to the shore didn't help - maybe I need to invest in a scope? No, that's something else I'd have to carry! We eventually worked out that there was a long-tailed duck out there, but given the views of them I'd had in Scotland, I didn't bother with any photos. Closer to us were the usual waders, including grey plovers, though only in winter plumage.
As usual, both Steve and I kept an eye on reports coming in from Twitter and Bird Guides etc, and several reports of a black redstart down at Cley Spy tempted us away from the beach, though not before we witnessed several dozen huge flocks of winter thrushes coming in over the sea. Quite a remarkable sight.
At Cley Spy (Glandford) we quickly found the black redstart which was perched on a roof of one of the buildings in the yard. Light wasn't great and sadly it soon relocated to another building, too far off to photo.
While Steve and Ann headed back to stock the 'van up, Dad and I tried the owl site. Unlike last year, the barn owl chose only to appear after the light had completely gone (maybe it had assumed Kate was with us again?). It was also joined by a short-eared owl, but even at ISO 3200 I couldn't get anything worth even airing on here. Good to see though.
After a good evening out at the Lifeboat, we sank back into the usual habit of visiting the harbours, with Brancaster being most productive this time. Work is being done on the sea defenses at Thornham, so it was somewhat restricted for wandering around. As well as the usual turnstones at Brancaster, we saw more grey plovers, brent geese, godwits, little egrets, curlew and quite a few skylarks.
With brightening conditions, we headed down the coast to Glandford again to catch up with the black redstart, which was still around.
With slightly windier weather it had taken to sheltering on the sides of the buildings, amongst the tiles.
Its feathers certainly seemed to match the tiles!
Based in Hunstanton, we tried a new pub which has sprung up since last year, only to find a 45 minute wait to be even seated, so diverted to another pub / club on the front, which served Adnams and also some hearty grub, which was very reasonably priced.
Waking to rain the following morning, I dragged Dad out just to see if anything was around. If you don't look, you don't see. As we drove along the coastal road, I caught a fleeting glance of what I thought might have been a harrier perched up, and decided to go have a second look. Not a harrier but a crow, and in order to get safely back on to the road from the field I was in, I had to drive further into it... and spotted something moving at speed on some bales of hay.
A stoat!
What fortune! I only ever seem to see these for a split second and they're gone, but this one seemed to be slightly insane, almost turning itself inside out as it changed direction so radically.
If only it had been brighter (raining at the time) so I could have attempted to get a shot of it leaping.
Sadly, by the time Steve could join us the stoat had vanished, and despite visiting the site several times, we never saw it again. However, it did tempt us to look in the surrounding fields, instead of focusing solely on the harbours. And what a good move that was. We saw red-legged partridges, hares, marsh harriers, yellowhammers and many other birds.
One marsh harrier we saw was sat in the middle of field eating something, which turned out to be a squirrel, from what I can tell.
And in most fields, there appeared to be several hares, mostly distant. Amazing how they blend into the vegetation - whilst photographing one, another suddenly appeared much closer, and legged it off into the hedge before I could grab a shot. I think Steve and Ann revisited the area frequently after we'd left and enjoyed great success with the hares.
Alas we were only there for a few days, and spent the last evening hoping for some barn owl action. None came, but we did see loads of little egrets flying over, to roost elsewhere. Maybe 200+ over the 2 hours we were waiting.
Our final morning was spent initially on Hunstanton esplanade in hope of some waders, but the tide was too high, and then over at Brancaster harbour. A little egret stalked the shallows; maybe one of the flocks seen at dusk.
With the light fading, and it becoming too difficult to photo anything, let alone the turnstones in flight, as I was attempting, we said our goodbyes to Steve and Ann, and headed back home.
Another good trip though and while I had planned to return the following weekend, the weather forecast put me off. Thankfully the weather improved after we'd left and both Steve and Ann bagged some wonderful images during their stay.
Lindos seems to be becoming an annual fixture of late, though the timing of the trip seems to vary, this year being scheduled within October, which is the latest I've ever been there. As before, it was supposed to be a family, relaxing break, not one for chasing wildlife. That said, I get bored sat beside a pool, so before going, I checked the net for any recent blogs covering the location and noted some ideas. As before, I took over my 7d and 100-400mm lens.
The only area that interested me, which had to be within walking distance (we don't hire cars), was down near St Paul's bay, at a water treatment site. On the walk down the hill, I heard and then spotted a blue rock thrush, perched up on some boulders above the path. Grabbed a couple of shots before it flew out of sight.
The site itself stunk, so I headed closer to the sea, and scanned the surrounding rocks. On the shore in the distance was an egret, though too much heat haze shimmer to work out what sort. Calling from between the rocks were crested larks, and there were sparrows and linnets around, feeding from the wild bushes. Flocks of finches (including sparrows) periodically flew overhead, and off south, down the coast.
The site was supposed to be good for shrikes, as there are many insects around. Indeed there were butterflies, including the stunning swallowtail, and dragonflies too. But no shrikes, that I could see. A rock thrush called from nearby, but I didn't fancy climbing over rocks to get closer.
There was also a warbler feeding on small insects - a chiffchaff perhaps?
Unlike earlier in the year, there were very few kestrels flying overhead, though I did see a pair of sparrowhawks hunting frequently, and later in the week, a hobby too. The local peregrine falcons occasionally shot by, scaring the rock doves from their perches on the hillside.
As before, Dad and I spent the afternoons on the balcony of the apartment, hoping to see something interesting fly over the hills. However it was a morning when we got out first view of a long-legged buzzard, which was gorgeous. We were even more pleased when a second one came into view soon after, and it wasn't the only time we saw them.
We even saw them perched on the hillside at times, seemingly enjoying the view!
On a walk down into the town one evening, I saw a bird perched high on a tree top, fluttering upwards to catch flies. Using Dad's compact camera I managed to get a shot, zoom in and identify it as a spotted flycatcher. Then later, when we were sat outside a favourite bar (the Rain Bird) I couldn't help but notice a number of birds flying about amongst the trees below, in an area behind the main beach. One for the next day, perhaps?
Curiosity tempted me down there the next morning, and I found the area to be alive with birds and insects. Large flocks of sparrows were feeding on the fruit, both on and off the trees. There is a small garden by a stone chapel and this has a tiny pool, kept full with a hose pipe. This as a focal point for the birds, bringing in the sparrows mainly, but also collared doves, hooded crows and jays.
The insects around attracted both grey and pied wagtails (maybe white?), plus some unidentified warblers, possibly chiffchaffs. It didn't take me long to spot one of the spotted flycatchers, and I soon realised that several were around the area.
A fleeting glimpse of a Sardinian warbler was a treat, but a stranger wandered up the path, peered over the wall to look at what I was photographing, scared it off, and then returned to the beach again. Where do these people appear from?
Whilst trying to get a decent shot of the flycatcher out in the open, I thought I'd got it on a twig, when I realised it had a dark band across its eye. It wasn't the flycatcher but a red-backed shrike. Excellent!
It seemed to be catching insects, caterpillars generally. And after I had got a clearer view, I realised it had a deformed beak; the lower part being overly long. Sort of looked like a crossbill! Didn't affect it catching food though.
Hence I then spent a good couple of hours trying to get a clear shot, with my luck finally changing further up the path when it flew towards me, and posed for a few seconds on a small sprig. Fab.
Taking the long walk back, I went over to the headland beneath the Acropolis and found more rock thrushes and crested larks, plus crag martins which were far too fast to get shots of, at such close range. By now I was rather hot and in need of a break, so I didn't try too much, to be honest! Besides, I got a shot from the apartments already...
Later in the week, a stroll along the back of the beach resulted in great views of another Sardinian warbler, right when I had an extension tube on my lens, so couldn't get a shot, and another spotted flycatcher near the path.
Little else though, and I was glad to meet up with my brother to enjoy a couple of ice cold beers in the Dolphin bar behind the beach!
Aside from the usual lizards, we didn't see any huge crickets, nor any wheatears eating them. I did see a robin one afternoon and plenty of large moths. No sign of the little owl on the hills which was a shame too. I guess it was a bit late in the year. Still, it wasn't a wildlife trip, so getting any photos were always going to be a bonus.
Maybe my favourite shot of the trip came after being advised to watch the sun rise, by my brother who had seen it one morning. The sun appears over the Acropolis and turns the sky and sea a fabulous colour. And at that time of the year, getting up for the sunrise wasn't such a hardship!
Not sure when we will return to Lindos - maybe it's time for somewhere new?
The second week began with sunshine, and after failing to see any otters along the lochside, I headed to look at the marshes. At the end of the road, some of the cattle had made their way from the enclosures and out in a bid for freedom, blocking my route. As such, I diverted down the old road track and then spotted something dark perched on one of the posts. Handbrake on, bins up and a gasp of delight, as I realised I was looking at a perched merlin.
I approached slowly down the track to as close as I dared, turned off the engine and leaned across the passenger seat to grab some shots. What a lovely little raptor.
Just up from it had been a hen harrier too, but as ever, that had taken flight before I could start to approach. I could see the sunlight was moving across the marshes towards us, turning the vegetation to gold, but by the time it reached the posts, the merlin had taken flight.
Not a bad start to the day, which would mark the beginning of Steve and Ann's first visit to the Isle, so we headed up to the agreed rendez-vous, and from there, to Salen, as they wanted to photo the boats. With that tourist visit out the way, it was over to Kellan to tick off WTEs from their list. With 2 sat in the trees, that was easy and Steve managed to spot the local otter heading out of the loch shortly after, to address that tick too.
A short drive away and we were in an area I know is good for golden eagles, and with their beginners' luck in fine flow, we spotted a pair of adults with a juvenile, soaring over the hillsides. I gave chase along the coast, but a group of ravens headed the eagles off, and they all flew inland.
Without having to wait to be let into the cottage, as we were already in it, we headed back, via the scenic route and were rewarded with fabulous views of 3 more WTEs, including seeing them flying almost on top of each other, and landing on the hillside, plus a pair of goldies too.
An incredible start to the stay on Mull for Steve and Ann.
For this second week, I would have a partner out early mornings, albeit in a separate car, and as with trips with Ian, we had CB radios for comms. So handy and turned Steve into a child, with his "Rubber duck, rubber duck come in this is Donald" calls over them! Sadly his luck with the birds didn't work on the harriers, which vanished in front of us both, but it did seem to still have an affect with the eagles, and, as he clattered over the cattle grid at the cottage, he spooked a WTE from the shore, which must have been a sight as it flew past his car and under the phone-wires alongside the road.
By the time I'd got back, the WTE was hanging in the breeze over our heads, looking left and right for targets. Apparently the domestic wildfowl at the end of the road are one popular target, but with folks around that area, it headed out across the loch and dropped down in pursuit of a gannet. Goodness knows what the gannet must have thought when it spotted this monster approaching, but mercifully for the gannet, they're faster at flying than WTEs, and soon left it behind.
With all this local excitement, it seemed pointless heading anywhere else, so we headed around the back of the loch in the hope of seeing some of the waders or wildfowl that loiter around a stream back there. By now it was raining quite hard, and I dropped the window to keep the car from misting up. I could hear the oystercatchers, swallows chattering and... eagles calling!
Scanning the trees along the hillside revealed one of the local WTEs perched, eating something among the branches, and the continous calls lead me to another, further along the treeline, perched on some dead branches. Oh to have seen these when it was nice! Even so, a scramble up the road resulted in some close views of one perched, which got better when it flew towards me.
Monday was forecast to be one of those wet days from last year, and proved to be very wet. Even so, we chose to show Steve and Ann some of the isle, calling into Tobermory for a fish & chips lunch, and ending up at Calgary Bay where Steve spotted a large dark fin in the water. A basking shark, which was pretty close in. There were three initially, but by the time we had relocated to a loftier viewing spot, only one was left. First ones I have ever seen and they're massive. Had you seen the film Jaws and didn't know how harmless these sharks are, but spotted the fin as you swam, I'm pretty sure the water wouldn't remain clear.
When the nose broke the surface and the tail was flicking behind, the full scale of the fish was clear, and it dwarfed an otter that was fishing closer to the shore.
More WTE antics entertained us on Tuesday, again near the cottage. Steve spotted one of them perched in a tree behind the road, but it flew out into the loch channel in search of food. Steve was watching from one location and me from another, and when it moved, I let him know, assuming he'd join me. Before he could reach me though, the eagle took off, and flew low across the water, right at my car, before diverting along the loch. An awesome sight, and he got so close I could see some seaweed on his beak!
Unfortunately at the time of the eagle approaching, my lens hood clip decided to give up the ghost, firing a screw off into the footwell and leaving the hood held on by the waterproof cover alone. Not ideal, especially when I realised I'd lost one of the screws somewhere on Mull. None of us had any tape nor did the cottage contain any, so I tried the local store.
With a stroke of luck, I bumped into a local handyman at the store who gave me some strong tape, and moments later, in a Blue Peter style, I'd taped the hood to the lens. Not great but better than not having it in place. Another example of how friendly folks are on the isle. I owe you a pint, kind sir!
Lens sorted, I rejoined Steve, Ann and Dad who were tracking an otter down the shore. Steve had got right to the shore, whereas Dad, Ann and I stayed a little further back, though none of us had great views as it repeatedly came ashore to eat its catch.
We carefully moved around for a better view, and were hoping for decent shots when the otter suddenly seemed spooked, and headed out. Looking back to the road revealed the cause. A pair of tourists in brightly coloured coats had decided to walk over the rocks towards us, in plain sight. Great. Without thinking about the fact they might undo our stealthy approach, or wonder why we were all crouched amongst rocks and seaweed, they just strolled on over. It'd be nice if folks watching photographers engaged their brains before approaching. Photographing wildlife is a test of patience at the best of times with the subject, other wildlife, weather, light and luck involved, without having to contend with muppets too.
Rant over. With the otter seemingly gone, we were left to it, and after a while the otter returned, and we managed to get some shots after all.
We had been booked to be on the Lady Jayne this week, but the inclement, stormy weather at the start of the week had pushed the trip back to the Thursday. Having whet their appetite for seeing the WTEs, I had had all fingers and toes crossed for the boat trip, as it's an experience to treasure. Sadly on Thursday morning reality bit. Ann had suffered a relapse with her bad back, and when I got up she'd been unable to even put her socks on it was so painful. And Steve was apparently suffering with an upset stomach, which transpired to be from his own greed; he'd scoffed an entire box of fruit breakfast bars the day before.
So neither could make the trip. I consider cancelling our booking completely then thought better of it, and zoomed over with Dad to meet up with Martin aboard the boat, though I'd text him to alert him to the reduced booking. It was sunny. Not particularly windy either, though we'd not seen the eagles at Kellan on the way there. I hoped we'd go to the other site again, but we headed to the usual site...
On arrival, we eventually spotted the pair high up above us, circling. Despite the gulls taking the bread, the eagles continued to circle, before one headed off, at speed out towards the coast. I have to admit, I feared the worst. Floating in the loch, we had a drink and I started to wonder if I could persuade Martin to try the other site - maybe offer something towards the diesel! But I didn't need to. Martin had already decided to chance it, and he set sail as fast as the LJ could go towards the other site, calling the shore along the way to delay the second trip.
Approaching the cliffs, despite the trail of bread on offer, no gulls were around to alert the eagles to our presence, and I was about to comment on this to Dad when we caught sight of it, hanging in the sea breeze, only a few feet above the boat, looking well, enormous!
No wonder there weren't any gulls around!
Fish thrown out, down she came from the clear blue skies, to grab it gratefully, and return to the cliffs. Brilliant. And a short while later, she came back out, and repeated the trick, giving me the best views and photo opportunities I've had to get shots, with blue sky, blue water and a colourful eagle as the subject. Simply wonderful.
While the eagle was the star of the show, I think we were all very grateful to another star, Martin, who quite literally took us the extra mile(s) to ensure we got what we hoped for. Hats off to you!
As we were in the area, we tried Calgary but no sharks this time. Though on the way back, being nosey as to what someone else was looking at proved wise, when we picked up a pair of golden eagles flying low along the hills.
Never a bad thing to see. And one even landed on a post, just to disprove the theory of it always being a buzzard seen sat on one.
Friday already. Two glorious, wildlife-filled weeks living on the heavenly isle had flown by, and while my heart was starting to sink, I made sure we got out and enjoyed it, starting on the marsh for the last time. A hen harrier perched at a distance, just to remind me of another year that I'd failed to get close to one.
The Lady Jayne visited the Kellan site and we watched the adults fly out to collect fish for the vocal juvenile, though the male opted to take the second catch off elsewhere to eat himself.
More views of a golden eagle followed, though of a juvenile this time and I tried to immerse myself it it, absorb the wonder of watching something I'd probably not see again for months. It's something Steve didn't immediately grasp on his week up there, as while he was watching the eagles on the first day, he was bemoaning the overcast skies not being great for photos, while I was trying to explain the fact he should be just enjoying the sight (and grabbing record shots). But by the middle of the week he'd changed his tune and admitted he couldn't believe he had been watching eagles hunt, otters fish and that the Mull scenery had taken his breath away. Smitten with the isle, already, both of them. I completely understand.
The day ended with a colourful sunset, turning the loch from orange to lilac. I ignored the midges to photo it as well as I could. I hoped the sunshine forecast for the Saturday morning would fail to arrive, as leaving the isle in such weather would be heartbreaking.
Saturday morning, time to leave. It was pouring down. Made it easier, but I was still gutted to have to go. And as I thanked the new owner of the cottage for the stay, I accidentally made a booking for next year.
