A couple of years ago, to celebrate my 40th Birthday I thought it'd be a good idea to go to Norfolk for a few days, and share the time with Dad as his Birthday falls on the day before mine. We had a cracking short break and I wanted to repeat the trip, albeit for a week this time.
Instead of staying inland, we decided upon Wells-next-the-Sea as it's a good central location, and has a few decent pubs within walking distance. And after a slightly annoying diversion on the way there, we rocked up at Thornham harbour in good time.
It was sunny but the wind had an icy feel to it, and forced us to stand beside the Lifeboat Inn pub, after we'd taken a few shots of godwits, avocets and shelducks poking around in the mud.
On our last Springtime visit, we had been fortunate to find a great place to stand to watch marsh harriers, and after enjoying our first taste of Wherry for the trip, we tried again. This year though, I reckon Spring is about a fortnight late in wildlife terms, and where there had been a pair nesting before, there was just a roost in place. Lots of harriers around, but they tended to fly away from us each time they went hunting from the marsh.
We did get some decent views of a female though, and enjoyed watching them displaying to one another, flying high up, before diving down, swooping up, diving down some more, swooping up, and finally diving out of sight into the reeds. Interesting to see that the females seemed to be doing this frequently too.
The harriers also occasionally tried to hunt locally, even attacking the greylag geese, though they were slightly ambitious with that idea, with the geese merely flying or waddling away.
A drive through the lanes revealed good numbers of red-legged partridges and brown hares, plus quite a few Egyptian geese. I don't recall seeing many of these last time, though by this time of day the heat haze had put an end to any images of anything.
The first evening was spent watching a barn owl for a short while, at a usual spot. I wasn't expecting much but we actually got a great show, with the owl hunting right in front of us.
The day ended at a new pub (Bowling Green Inn), which Dad suggested we try after seeing a) how close it was to our digs and b) a menu on the wall of the cottage. It was a wise move, as they served Wherry and had a great selection of home-cooked meals, which as we discovered over the rest of the week, were delicious!
One of my goals for this trip, would be brown hares. After enjoying such fine views of their mountain-based cousins in Scotland, I wanted to expand my portfolio of the introduced brown variety and knew my best bet would involve early starts. I was right, and after a short drive I started to see good numbers in the fields. Getting one close was just a matter of time and luck, and I found one cleaning near the edge of a field.
Also around early morning were grey partridges, another on my Most-Wanted list. A lot more shy than their red-legged friends, they don't often hang around to have their photo taken, so it needed a quiet approach.
After collecting Dad, we tried the marsh harriers again, as it was cloudless, but the extra warmth from the sun had brought along a haze and I struggled to get sharp images all the time.
On another brief tour around the lanes, I spotted a small stream that looked perfect for water voles, and just as I was scanning the banks, I saw one plop into the water. Great, where are the pics? Well I foolishly had opted to leave the camera in the car across the way, and by the time I returned with it, there was no sign, nor as it turned out, any access to the area where I'd seen it appear from. And despite calling in several times during the rest of the stay, I failed to see any others.
As before, we finished the day at the owl site and after cursing that a fellow 'tog seemed to have picked the best spot to park, I soon realised that I knew him (Kev Joynes) and spent a good while chatting about recent adventures and mishaps.
Back in good time for another fine pub meal and a few pints to round off my Birthday.
Another early start had me trying to see if the barn owl out in the evenings might appear in the morning too. It didn't, but I did get to see a few marsh harriers around, plus observed some rather strange behaviour from a brown hare. A wood pigeon had been predated by perhaps a sparrowhawk and the remains with half a pillow's worth of feathers were strewn in the long grass. The hare approached and then proceeded to chase off some jackdaws and a magpie, before returning to the kill, to have a good sniff around it. It then sat amongst the feathers for a good half hour before lolloping away.
Later that day, the barn owl failed to show and both Kev and I decided to call it quits. As Dad and I drove away, I spotted a barn owl sat on some chopped down branches, and it didn't fly off when I parked the car. Dad was able to get a few shots, but alas the angle I was able to safely pull in didn't allow me to point my camera at the owl, and as I tried via the back window, the owl got spooked, and flew off.
Driving merely yards along the road, I joked to Dad that we'd probably see it again, and then I spotted it, sat on the curb of the pavement! Again, before I could get near for a shot it flew, but made us laugh how it was just sitting there, as though waiting for a bus, perhaps.
Becoming a habit now, up with the dawn chorus and out for a longer drive inland. I was looking for partridges and hares, and anything else that might be around at that time. A pair of grey partridges scuttled across the road in front of me, and into a field. I parked and found they'd took flight. However, as I scanned the field to where they'd gone, another bird flew in, with distinctive white markings on its wings. Almost as soon as it landed, it seemed to vanish. My curiosity raised, I scanned the app on my phone for possibilities and the only bird that fitted the bill was a stone curlew.
My suspicions were confirmed when a couple of birders turned up, and after I had described what I thought I'd seen, they admitted that it was a secret breeding site, thankfully being watched by locals and the gamekeeper. The latter subsequently trundled up and we had a good chat, interrupted only when he spotted a brown rat and promptly blew it to smithereens with his rifle! They take eggs, apparently.
Further along the road was a pair of barn owls, so of course this meant one thing. Even earlier starts to reach this site, and lots of finger crossing. There were several pairs of stone curlew present, but the closest ones were always backlit by the sun first thing, and those in better light too distant, or if closer, invariably the heat from the ground had created a haze by then and made getting shots impossible.
After returning to base, with it seemingly being a calmer day, we headed over to Cley in the hope it might yield some shots of bearded tits. Calling into Salthouse first, as I wanted to see for myself how much it had changed since those awful floods. Quite a bit, though nature was sorting itself out, and I saw reports later that week of snow buntings being around there again.
The breeze had returned to Cley despite being absent elsewhere, and also from the floods, the reedbeds have been cut back extensively, so finding the beardies wasn't easy. Eventually saw some, but they never landed anywhere stable or visible enough for a decent shot. Plenty of marsh harriers, geese and egrets around, plus waders such as avocets.
As we returned to the car park, I saw a small gathering of togs nearby and went to investigate. Excellent, the black redstart reported earlier that week was still there, and feeding from the fence. Cue lots of photos, lots of wandering up and down the fence line, and quite a red head from the sun! Great little bird.
After a brief visit to the Dun Cow to sample the ales there, it was back to try for the grasshopper warbler that was apparently reeling near the main centre at Cley. It appeared long enough for us to get a few shots before vanishing into the deeper stuff.
A very brief and distant performance from the barn owl, and we were soon back in the pub.
Dawn at the stone curlew site but no luck with them. I did have fabulous close views of the barn owls as they hunted for prey, carrying it away once caught. I took some record shots of the curlews but they were backlit and soft. I did however encounter a little owl as I got back closer to our cottage. Sat on a pole, it glared as only they know how, before flying off.
The rest of the day was spent over at Sculthorpe Moor reserve, run by the Hawk And Owl Trust. Lin gave us a warm welcome and kindly showed us around the site, taking in the vast amount of work being done at the moment, including a new tower hide, on stilts overlooking the reedbeds. Unfinished when we were there, with just a bench in place, but not a bad place to be sat in the sunshine watching the world go by. Alas, not a lot happened, so will be a place I need to return to later in the year when the harriers are more active. A meal and pint at the Sculthorpe Mill pub ended another fine day.
Another morning lacking success with the curlews, though the barn owls were as busy as ever. And a ring ouzel also caught my attention before it yawned, and flew off. A much needed sausage bap was the order of the morning at RSPB Titchwell, before I made my way down to the shore, in time for the tide to be retreating. Dad didn't fancy the hike, so stayed around the hides.
As the mud was exposed, flocks of turnstones, oystercatchers, sanderlings and dunlins fluttered in to feed. The UniqBall head on my tripod was again an asset as I tried for shots of the waders as they skimmed by just above the waves.
Picking off crabs from the sand was a grey plover, which came remarkably close to me several times to feed.
The sunny day ended in style with the barn owl putting on a real show for some time. Hovering, diving, hunting this way and that. It took a while to catch something before heading away with the prize.
Guess what? Yes, no joy with the curlews again the next morning, though I did get some atmospheric hare shots to console myself with.
With it being the last full day, we aimed for Cley again, and grabbed some shots of pochards on one of the pools, looking vibrant in the sunshine.
We called into the Dun Cow for lunch, and later on spent a couple of sun-soaked hours beside the river at the Sculthorpe Mill again, which was heavenly. Back to try for the owl, which failed to show, but something far rarer to see did.
Whilst stood waiting, we were well aware of Cetti's warblers calling. They're not quiet when nearby. One seemed to be giving it everything it had from a hawthorn hedge, and another one obviously took offence. Flying in, it stopped on the edge of the bush, paused, burst into song before diving in, and chasing the rival away across the field. And yes, I did manage to get some shots of this.
It's only the fourth time I've ever seen one pose out in the open. A real treat!
That evening in the pub, Dad suggested that as we didn't need to leave the cottage until late morning, I ought to give the stone curlews one last go. Another bright morning at least, so maybe I would get something of the barn owls again. It started well, with a grey partridge sat absorbing the sun's first warming rays of the day, and I soon spotted the barn owls once more.
And as I was trying to get shots of one of the owls, I spotted the distinctive pattern on the wings of a bird as it landed not that far from me. I hoped it might come a bit closer, as it wandered around the field feeding.
It did. Stooping its head as it scuttled along, it gradually got closer and closer. And, with it being on the better side of the field, the light was just perfect.
Pausing between insect snacks, it steadily approached, and I switched the camera to silent mode just in case. I was amazed how close it came in the end. Such strange looking birds, with those bulbous yellow eyes.
Eventually it headed away again, and as I took my head from the camera, one of the barn owls flew past literally a few feet in front of me, looking across directly at me as if to say "Missed me!" and I had, as it promptly flew away! Didn't matter though, as I had a grin from ear to ear. After trips to Weeting Heath and another site in the past yielding nothing but a soft blob of a record shot, this was such a result.
Packing the car, we chose to while away some hours at the marsh harrier site. I'd seen a pair mating earlier in the day, so perhaps they were starting to set things up and the other harriers in the area might soon be chased away.
I chased a pair of cuckoos along a hedgerow, but they soon departed, which was our cue to do the same.
But as with the first day, we thought it would be wise to call in at the Lifeboat Inn first, for a last drop of Wherry and a pub lunch, before heading west, and home again.
I must be starting to sound like a scratched record now, with my trips north of the border, but after spending a week there recently, I was due to return for just a long weekend, mainly to take in the black grouse lek for real. As the break was limited in terms of time, we (Kate and I) chose to fly up instead of driving and, after a mere 75 minutes, we touched down in Inverness, to be met by Andy at the airport.
With clear skies and a warm breeze, Andy suggested that we waste no time, and head up to the Cairngorms, and after a quick cuppa, a change of clothes, we were soon parking up near the ski centre, and looking up the hills, or should I say mountains, to where the ptarmigan live. Unlike last time, I could see the paths as most of the snow had gone, with just small pockets remaining in dips or shaded areas of the slopes. And, an added benefit was actually having Andy with us this time, to help guide along the way.
Just as well too, as he spotted a pair of ptarmigan near the path well before the usual area, which neither Kate nor I had seen. We skirted around the pair, and then slowly approached. Andy was right, the birds' attitude had changed remarkably since even my last visit, and this pair seemed very settled and allowed us to get very close indeed. My last visits had been prior to, and then during the pairing up phases of the season, and the ptarmigan were a lot more unsettled or flighty, flying off at any sudden or unusual movement nearby.
Keeping low to the ground, we moved around the birds to get shots at the angles we desired, and often just sat back to watch them as they fed on the fresh shoots of heather starting to appear from between the rocks, or through the snow.
Moving up the slopes, it wasn't long before we saw more ptarmigan and one of the female birds amazed us at how well she blended into the surroundings. Sat on a boulder, she was almost invisible to the untrained eye, only taking shape when she chose to move.
The afternoon flew by as we followed various birds around, and in sheltered spots we were actually too warm having to refill our drinks container with mountain water. Andy seemed to be getting into the whole sampling nature a bit too much, when he decided he wanted to taste some red grouse poo, commenting that it tasted like a popular shredded breakfast cereal. Maybe he was suffering from altitude sickness?!
As the sun sank down, the difference in temperature between being in the sunshine and the shade was stark, and we chased the light down the slopes, only stopping to photograph red grouse, when they were perched in suitable locations.
Back to Andy's place, where we enjoyed a meal from Lyndsey and tried to work out timings for the next day's early start... for the lek.
We were supposed to be up at 1:30am, but by the time I'd sorted out what I was going to take along, and how I would carry it, it had gone 11, and I failed to sleep at all, choosing to get up at 1am and wait. By 2am we were on the roads to the lek site, and were treated to a fabulous display of the Aurora, though we couldn't stop alas, to photograph it.
By the time we'd hiked to the hides, the lights in the skies had all but faded, so we just settled into position, set the cameras up, and began to wait. It was pretty calm but chilly with clear skies. As before, it was a case of waiting for the birds to arrive, then listening to the sounds of the moors, with snipe drumming, before the light crawled across the lek site, and turned the sounds of the grouse into strutting and posturing birds.
After the previous visit, I chose to rig up my old 7D on the 500mm, and have the Mk2 on my 100-400mm lens, resting on a bean bag. This I hoped would allow me to compose shots better, to take in not only more than one of the grouse in a shot, but also capture some of the breathtaking views behind.
With its ability to handle low light, at a high ISO setting, I was taking pics as soon as I could see the grouse, and unlike the previous visit, the grouse seemed far more aggressive to one another, with them taking turns to face each other up, threaten, pose and occasionally launch an attack.
Predicting this is tricky, as sometimes the birds would almost touch beaks, then back away, and walk around one another, before, without any warning signs, dive into an attack, which would be over almost before it began. I guess with Andy's previous experience of a number of leks he was more familiar with this, and I often missed the action, but heard his 1DX machine-gunning away.
I managed some shots though, as the lek progressed, and as it did, and the light improved, I kept a watchful eye on the light readings, adjusting the ISO down, whenever possible.
Mark Hamblin who manages the site, had mentioned some hens visiting the site on the day before, but these failed to show during our session, though one smaller, perhaps younger male did briefly appear, caused a bit of confusion before being chased away by several of the established brawlers on the site.
By the time the sun had risen fully and bathed the area in golden light, the action had mostly finished, and the grouse generally preened and pecked at the heather. Some seemed to take a few seconds to snooze, maybe enjoying the warmth of the sun. Then, one by one they fluttered off. This was our cue to exit, and have a look around the site at the feathers left from the fights.
It was also Andy's cue to grab my hat, and boot it into the heather, pretending to be taking part in the lek himself, which was amusingly captured on camera by Kate, who was giggling at his daft antics nearby. Strolling down the hills, Kate spotted some common lizards sunbathing, and after a short chat with the gamekeepers, we headed back north, to spend the rest of the day at Chanonry Point. Stopping along the way for a coffee and slice of cake, of course!
Initially there wasn't much to see at the Point, and this was expected as the salmon run hasn't really started yet. But, it was worth a wait Andy said, as anything can happen there. Besides, we were all too shattered to do much else, other than sit on the shingle and watch the tide come in.
Then a disturbance in the water some way out, and a few gulls circling gave away the location of a pair of dolphins. Nothing spectacular in terms of views, with just glimpses of the heads, but mainly dorsal fins and the tail being visible, though pretty close in as the tide reached turning point.
Another dolphin briefly joined them, before they all headed further out, and we opted to head back home.
I didn't need much encouragement to sleep that evening, awakening to the plan of a later start, but a return to RSPB Troup Head on the Aberdeenshire coast. Lyndsey was free today too, so the four of us set off east, calling into an ice cream parlour along the way. All of us though, had been fooled by the bright conditions, and chosen to wear lighter clothes, only to reach the cliffs and discover that the gusts of wind were icy cold! It was bright though, and the windy weather meant the gannets would be up at eye-level for the visit.
I've been to Bempton Cliffs a few times, but the number of gannets here was astonishing. It was like being in a snow-globe, with them circling round in waves with the gusts of wind. Quite literally at times too, when the hailstorms rolled in from the sea, and battered us as we crouched on the grassy slopes. These birds are made of hardy stuff, we all thought.
Perched near the edge of the cliffs, we were treated to exceptionally close views as the gannets masterfully glided by on the breeze, occasionally looking across at us as they went.
The long grass covering the cliffs was popular as nesting material, and we saw a couple of gannets land, to tear clumps of it away, before lifting off effortlessly again, to return to their piece of real estate on a cliff ledge somewhere.
I took the opportunity to try a few of the multi-point focus modes out on the new camera, and found that the group modes are very good at picking up flying birds, even against the rocks and sea as backdrops. Not perfect, but probably locked on 9 times out of 10.
And with my UniqBall tripod head, I was able to get shots most of the time with the horizon level, something that was a rare treat with my old head, had luck been on my side with setting things up.
I love gannets, but I also wanted to try for some shots of fulmars, as I often seem to forget to photograph them. Walking along the cliffs, I found a cove where a few pairs were nesting, and watched as they flew to and from the cliffs.
Unlike the gannets that soar around, and brake last minute to thump on to the rocks, the fulmars bob around on the gusts of wind, like a cork on choppy seas, with their legs dangling below, seemingly without control. But they were so skillful with their flights, timing the updrafts perfectly to simply step on to their nest sites.
We had all planned and hoped for a good sunset, but as usual with weather and wildlife, it didn't quite work out. The sun was obscured by clouds just as it was reaching the horizon and the only gannet we had to photo, decided to head off fishing anyway.
Fish & chips on the way home, and another most welcome night's sleep. The final day had been planned as one spent on the hills with the hares, but we encountered blizzard conditions along the way, and had to divert to pick up something Kate had dropped at the lek site, from Mark. Then the fuel light pinged on and Andy chose not to risk it, and to be honest, I didn't fancy getting soaked and cold on the final morning, for the flight back. We ended up touring round in the hope of seeing something, taking in Lochindorb eventually to grab some last red grouse shots. Always welcome, even if I have about a thousand of them already!
Mere hours later, I was dropping Kate off back home, after leaving Andy and Lynsdey at Inverness airport. It seems so much closer when you can fly up, and I am missing the glorious scenery, not to mention the wildlife and company already. Roll on the next trip...
