Great White Egrets

 I stood in a hide, at the RSPB's splended Ham Wall nature reserve in Somerset, in view of Glastonbury Tor, that small tower sat atop a hill overlooking the Somerset Levels, the marshes of Avalon, alleged stamping ground of King Arthur and his Knights, where Pagan Britons and Christian Anglo-Saxons apocryphally made play for the heart and soul of what we now call England. A mighty bird stood in front of me, just metres away, filling the 75-250mm lens of my camera, all in white, bill turning from black to yellow, fishing, preening with an air of magisterial indifference. The bird stood tall, the shape of a skinny Grey Heron, or an albino woodpigeon with a snake threaded through it, wearing stilts. It stepped forward, creeping, and stared at the water, with the suggestion of intent, before continuing to preen itself.  When noisier people entered the hide, it flew away, low across the water to a new position behind the reeds.

This experience would have been unheard of a few decades ago. First recorded in Britain in the mid 19th Century, though possibly with a history here going back much further, the Great White Egret was a scarce vagrant, less than annual until the 1990s, then annual wintering, I saw my first in 2010, at Dungeness in Kent, where a wintering bird, earning the universal Great White Egret nickname of 'Sharky,' had taken up home in a far flung reedbed. It was little more than a speck in my scope, the size of the bird, its height against the reeds, and its bright yellow bill (which turns black in the breeding season) making it unmistakeable. Great White Egrets are sometimes considered confusable with Little Egrets, but in reality I find them more confusable with a swan, on account of their huge scale in comparison with the more familiar of our two white herons. If you think you might have seen a Great White Egret, you haven't. You have seen a Little Egret. If you see a Great White Egret, you know what you have seen.

My next encounter with the species was in Greece, where I worked as a volunteer for the Hellenic Ornithological Society. A flock of 30 'Sharkies' had dropped into the brackish water marsh, cleared out from their breeding grounds, looking for somewhere to spend the winter. I watched in wonder as they stood stock still in the mirror still water, harbingers of a changing season. Southern and Eastern Europe once held the nearest surviving Great White Egrets. Once common in much of Central Europe, Great White Egrets, like so many charismatic wetland species, were victims of persecution as competitors for fish, and of the millinery trade in the 19th and early 20th century, pushing the centre of their European population East, with birds shot off their nests in the breeding season for their showy breeding plumes, a bold fashion statement for a Victorian lady to wear on her hat. The species has a wide distribution spanning five continents, and many North American colonies of Great Whites faced similar persecution. It was seeing the fate of these birds on their nests which spurred into action the ladies who went on to found both  the RSPB and the Audobon Society, whose campaigns eventually saw the species have something of a repreive, on both sides of the Atlantic.  So it was from Southern and Eastern Europe that the species began to spread.

In 2012, the species bred in the UK for the first time, on the Somerset Levels, at Shapwick Heath, a stones' throw from my Great White Egret experience. In 2017 it bred in Norfolk. Its breeding population continues to grow, and all these breeding attempts have involved small colonies of multiple pairs, on stick nests in trees, not dissimilar to Herons and Little Egrets. In January this year, one flew over my house in Wirksworth, Derbyshire, easily distinguished from a little egret by the sharp bend in its neck, protruding like a keel, and by its vast size and yellow bill like a sword. I have seen them standing in the fields by the Derwent of a morning with the Grey Herons, presumably joining them in munching any small mammals driven from cover by the intense winter cold. Several pairs breed at Shapwick Heath, and it was the most numerous Heron I saw at Ham Wall, and they winter up and down the country, including at Attenborough in Nottinghamshire, where their flights to roost are a popular sideshow to the spectacular winter Starling murmurations.

The Great White Egret is doing well. And I wholeheartedly approve.  Within minutes of its departure, no sooner than the hide was quiet again, my Great White Egret was back, ducks herding their broods away into the reeds with justified concern, and back to preening, nonchalantly, at home in this place of Arthurian legend.

A chain of thought regarding Transatlantic differences, Duck Stamps and the RSPB.

 In the American Meme group I have now left, there was a lot of talk of hunting funds for conservation, through levies such as the so-called 'Duck Stamps.' Duck stamps are a type of hunting licence issued in the USA, the money raised being used to fund the National Wildlife Refuges scheme. Doubtless it is a very important stream of revenue for wetland conservation in the USA. On the meme group, there was an assertion that this money from hunting is the only, or the primary way to fund conservation, and as such the whole 'Hunting is conservation' argument came about. It was a collision of many ideas, with the pro-hunt side, which was most of the Americans, using the mantra 'Hunting is conservation,' and explaining how 'Duck stamps' funded the national refuge system and how wildfowling was fundamental to wetland conservation. So determined were the American conservationists to defend this system, that their enthusiasm for it seemed to trump concerns raised by European group members about hunting in this region and in North Africa, which were angrily dismissed as outliers.

Now I am about to compare hunting in the USA to Hunting in the UK or in Europe, not right at the moment at least. But another thought occurred to me shortly afterwards. Soon there were more posts in the Meme group, referring to how birders never invest any money in wetland conservation, refuse to pay to access reserves, that only hunting has the clout, and the public participation, to raise money for conservation to be carried out effectively. And, thought I, that is where we differ.

Water Rail at RSPB Rainham Marshes

In Britain, while for sure there are wildfowl hunters, and for sure they look after some coastal wetlands, much of it fairly well, such that it provides good breeding habitat for waders, raptors and invertebrates outside the shooting season, but the way we look after Wetland 'refuges' for conservation is thus: The RSPB, and the local Wildlife Trusts.

Stonechat at RSPB Rainham Marshes

Conservationists in the UK, by which I mean non-professionals who care about and support nature conservation, do not generally buy hunting licences. Instead, they join the RSPB, investing sums comparable with those spent on 'Duck Stamps' in the USA. We do spend money on nature, and on nature for nature's sake. And we have achieved remarkable results through this. Minsmere in Suffolk, owned by the RSPB, is a former MOD range, and it was the stepping stone Avocets and Marsh Harriers used to recolonise the UK. Now Marsh Harriers, and Bearded Tits, breed at Rainham Marshes, another former military range within Greater London. Spoonbills and Bitterns have bred at Fairburn Ings, a former coal mining site near Leeds. At Old Moor near Doncaster, Slavonian Grebes breed annually, and Lakenheath Fen, a former carrot farm in the Brecks, Bittern, Bearded Tit and Common Crane breed, a species which was extinct in Britain a century ago. All without money from hunting, with management largely built on monthly and annual donations from a million members. The RSPB is our model of conservation and it works.

Lapwing at RSPB Frampton Marsh, Lincolnshire

It coexists with free markets, taking from the state only money available to any landowners who manage their land sympathetically for nature, and heritage money from the National Lottery. It has brought back species to these islands, and become a global expert in wetland creation and restoration without shots being fired in sport at all. Its predator control is not above criticism, of course and some regard it as unduly friendly with shooting organisations, as illustrated by the debacle at RSPB Strumpshaw Fen a few years ago, where gamekeepers were allowed onto the site to kill some much photographed foxes. However it walks a tightrope here of course and deserves, in my view, some slack. There are people in the shooting community, unnerved by the RSPB's excellent work in raptor protection, who love to stir the pot and set their opponents, in mainstream conservation and largely urban hippy 'animal rights' proponents, against each other, despite their common cause at least where it comes to threatened wildlife and habitats.

View from RSPB Wallasea Island, Essex

But its achievements at a national level are remarkable. Incredible. It is our model of conservation, Britain's proof that hunting and conservation are not inextricably linked, and I think that is bloody awesome. They go beyond land management of course, into campaigning, recently becoming involved in the discussion surrounding the draconian restrictions on environmental protest being discussed in parliament, and campaigning against particularly damaging developments threatening important wildlife sites. Their membership is huge and diverse.

Goldfinch at RSPB Frampton Marsh, Lincolnshire

Compared to what they have in other parts of the world, we are extraordinarily fortunate to have the RSPB, and can be justifiably proud of it, alongside the county Wildlife Trusts and the WWT of course.

Wanderings in the Strangest Summer. Frampton Marsh, Lincolnshire, and Coombes Valley, Staffordshire.

 Frampton Marsh, 8th August 2020

On a bright and sunny day, with a fresh breeze blowing, Natty and I headed to Lincolnshire to join my old friend Brian at Frampton Marsh, the RSPB's fantastic, relatively new and expanding, reserve beside the Wash in Lincolnshire.

Spoonbills, and a Moorhen.

Here we were greeted near immediately by a flock of 17 or so Spoonbills, a sight which would have been unheard of just a few years ago, another brilliant white heron-like wetland bird establishing, or perhaps reestablishing itself,  in British wetlands. The birds largely kept their spoons concealed, tucked under wings out of the sun and wind. The flashes were covered in Knot, Dunlins, Black Tailed Godwits, the latter in all plumages from tango orange to ash-grey, as though dressed for the summer.'s funeral.  Among the waders Brian picked out a couple of Curlew Sandpipers, smart, dunlin-like waders with bold supercilliums.

Spotted Redshanks

We continued to enjoy a veritable late summer wader fest, with so many returning migrants from the far North and East, graceful Spotted Redshanks in their near white winter coats, so different in their movements to their commoner cousins, Common and Green Sandpipers, and a very smart Greenshank, his head nearly pure white. The breeding waders remained too, graceful, long-legged Avocets, brown patches on their wings revealing them to be the very same awkward, gangly chicks hiding from the rain among their parents' breast feathers just a few short weeks ago.

Whooper Swan and Common Tern

 

Shelducks floated about in their eclipse plumage, and a single Whooper Swan which had stayed the summer, perhaps too injured to make it across the North Sea though capable of flying back and forth across the reserve, lounged on an island in one of the freshwater lakes. The Spoonbill flock flew over, magnificent face spatulas forward, out towards the Wash.

Spatulas to the horizon!

There was not an overabundance of passerines, as one would expect at this time of year, with so many lying low to moult and enjoy the richness of the season, but yellow wagtails, in their muddy looking winter plumage, were active around the cattle, and a few swifts zipped about. Swallows and Sand Martins were ubiquitous. Emperor Dragonflies patrolled the ponds, and Common Darters the paths, while Small Tortoiseshell butterflies fed at the Scabious blooms. 

Common Blue Damselfly

Frampton is an incredibly special place. You should go there.

Small Tortoiseshell

 

Birds Seen: Brent Goose, Canada Goose, Greylag Goose, Mute Swan, Whooper Sean, Shelduck, Mallard, Teal, Pochard, Tufted Duck, Pheasant, Little Grebe, Great Crested Grebe, Spoonbill, Grey Heron, Little Egret, Cormorant, Moorhen, Coot, Avocet, Lapwing, Golden Plover, Little Ringed Plover, Whimbrel, Black Tailed Godwit, Knot, Ruff, Curlew Sandpiper, Dunlin, Snipe, Common Sandpiper, Green Sandpiper, Redshank, Spotted Redshank, Greenshank, Black Headed Gull, Common Gull, Herring Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Common Tern, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Swift, Kestrel, Magpie, Rook, Carrion Crow, Skylark, Sand Martin, Starling, Yellow Wagtail, Pied Wagtail, Meadow Pipit, Linnet, Goldfinch, Reed Bunting.

Black tailed Godwit

Butterflies: Red Admiral, Meadow Brown, Gakekeeper, Small Skipper, Common Blue, Small Heath, Small Tortoiseshell, Green Veined White.

Ruff

Dragons: Common Blue Damselfly, Emperor Dragonfly, Common Darter.

Cinnabar moth caterpillars were numerous at Frampton. 

 




Coombes Valley, 9th August 2020

Of a warm but slightly overcast afternoon I went to Coombes Valley, in Staffordshire. It was surprisingly quiet, with few of the special birds out and about, perhaps down to the advancing season. However it was pretty, though a family insisted upon throwing pebbles into the stream where they Grey Wagtails breed. At least they were not building cairns and diverting the flow of water in the stream. Such disturbance in a habitat so small can have serious implications for its invertebrate diversity. A wasp was busy on the wood of the small bridge.

Wasp. 

I walked the Valley Woodland Loop, as the map called the circular footpath I wandered, and was surprised by the beautiful sight of three Red Deer- young stags- making their way among the trees. Each wore small, but different antlers in velvet. Deer often make their way through the woods at Coombes, but are seldom seen.

Freaky doll stuck to a Silver Birch tree. 

I picked up what my map called the 'Woodcock Trail' and was surprised to find Ling Heather, Calluna vulgaris once again, growing as an understory plant alongside Bilberry, Vaccinium myrtilis, as these species grow in much of their European range, but here associated with open heath and moor. I also enjoyed commanding views of the valley and the wider Stafforshire moorlands.  Someone had stuck a small plastic doll to a tree. 



The day ended with a spectacular orange sunset. 

Birds Seen: Sparrowhawk, Buzzard, Woodpigeon, Kestrel, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit, Blue Tit, Swallow, Willow Warbler, Garden Warbler, Goldcrest, Nuthatch, Treecreeper, Blackbird, Song Thrush, Spotted Flycatcher, Robin, Bullfinch. 

Butterflies Seen: Peacock, Gatekeeper, Green Veined White. 

Wanderings in the Strangest Summer- Some local-ish walks.

 August 1st 2020.

I went to Matlock Bath by mistake.  Not long after the great and, as it transpired, temporary lifting of restrictions. I was not ready to encounter humans in such densities,  and I swiftly realised my mistake, and took a wander homeward.

I walked down by the river,  through the parks beside the rushing Derwent in the sunshine, where a dipper bobbed about. I climbed back up onto the road, and wandered along it, past the old Mill building.  I picked up the Cromford Canal Towpath, eerily quiet in comparison to the bustle of Matlock Bath Promenade, following it to the High Peak Junction, where I wandered through the sheep field, encountering a beautiful fledgeling Redstart, beginning to moult into the winter plumage of an adult male. Its sibling was not far away. In moult they bore a curious resemblance to Common Rock Thrushes, but smaller, perching on the dry stone walls, perhaps to scale with Alpine boulders. These tiny birds, just a couple of months old, were preparing for a long and perilous journey to subsaharan Africa. Also preparing to leave were the massed House Martins and Sand Martins which zipped about around the oak tree beside the camp site, where a few brave campers took advantage of the recent reopening.

Selected sightings (no list made) Kestrel, Woodpigeon, Mallard, Dipper, Black Headed Gull, Redstart, Pied Wagtail, House Martin, Swallow, House Martin. 

Cutthroat Bridge, Derwentside, 6th August 2020

I parked up in the layby beside Cutthroat Bridge, a bridge over a small beck, named for a grizzly robbery which took place there in 1635, where a man was left dead, or deprived of speech, depending on which version you read, by mysterious assailants. A second murder, the dumped body of a Mancunian gangster in the 1990s, adds to its grim mystique.  Counterintuitively, the place had quite a calm, wild energy about it, a gentle summer breeze, the heather in flower, and a Kestrel hovering.

Calluna blooming on the Derwent Moors. 

 I strolled uphill, among the flowering Ling Heather, Calluna vulgaris, and the Cross-Leaved Heath, Erica tetralix, the latter now beginning to go to seed. This was Grouse country, and sadly would all to soon be rumbling with the sound of guns as the toffs and London city boys hit the moors to shoot fledgelings out of the sky for shits and giggles. I passed a number of Grouse shooting butts, well maintained, almost luxurious with gravel floors and embossed door numbers. Nice of them, I thought, to provide so many public toilets so close to the Inglorious 12th.  Even in this magnificent, rugged landscape The moors bore the angular scars of controlled burns, in which floristic diversity is sacrificed for maximum densities of grouse for shooting.

Red Grouse on the Derwent Moors. 

Fox Moth larva on the Derwent Moors

As I ascended the moor, I could not help but acknowledge that, despite my distain for grouse shooting, this place was extraordinarily beautiful. Expansive views opened up, of the Derwent reservoirs, a Hobby pursued some hirundines around the granite outcrops. Meadow Pipits were busy, shuttling back and forth with food parcels. The views were enthralling, almost defying description, a vast landscape of hills and shining water. 

I reached the National Trust's land at the Derwent Estate, where I encountered my only actual Red Grouse of the walk, a female, who raised a head above the heather and looked at me quizzically. I walked on to a trig point, scrambling up the rocks for a selfie with it, and enjoyed a commanding view, now taking in part of the city of Sheffield, and viewed the Dark Peaks from their heart. On my return the sun was beginning to dip, and the reservoirs shone, bright glare of their mirror surface.

Yes, a place of remarkable beauty. And in sharp contrast to my ill advised trip to Matlock Bath, I saw barely a soul today. Just space and lakes and heather.

View of the Derwent Reservoirs from Derwent Edge. Or something. Who cares what a place is really called anyway. 

Birds Seen: Buzzard, Kestrel, Hobby, Raven, Great Tit, Swallow, Long-tailed Tit, Chiffchaff, Wren, Meadow Pipit. 

Lathkill Dale 7th August 2021

On a very hot, sunny day Natty and I strolled down from Over Haddon into Lathkill Dale. We found the River Lathkill dry, it had retreated underground, into its cave system, the disused mines beneath its course. The marginal vegetation like Hemp Agrimony had begun to wilt in the heat and dry. Only the deep, bathing pools, historic fishponds downriver held water, and here Swans and Mallards ignored swimmers and dogs. The site was busy but not the nightmare of antisocial behaviour reported on in recent weeks. Perhaps more people were staying away. Birds were few and far between, but a Buzzard gave us close views as it flew among the trees.

River Lathkill on one of its few excursions onto the surface. 

Curiously a number of big Nyphalid butterflies were gathered on the trunk of a beech tree, apparently
feeding on sap. Several trees held Commas and Red Admirals engaging in this behaviour.

Comma and two Red Admirals feeding on tree sap. 

Butterflies Seen: Ringlet, Gatekeeper, Red Admiral, Comma, Large White, Small Copper, Meadow Brown, Speckled Wood, Green Veined White. 








 

Wanderings in the Strangest Summer: A trip South, Part 2. 20th-21st July 2020

 A walk from Stone

Mum and Dad and I went up to Stone, on the South side of the River Blackwater, up in the wilds of Essex. I spent a few hours strolling the sea wall, strolling and wildlife spotting in the glorious sunshine, as my Dad played with boats.  Birds were surprisingly few and far between, with, in what must be a first for a walk by the River Blackwater,  no waders spotted, though Common Terns flew by with characteristic grace. However there was a veritable feast of butterflies. Mumsie spotted a Marbled White, and as I walked I counted many of these big Satyrids, and a pair danced among the parched grass.  Their dance, presumably a courtship display, was rudely but accidentally interrupted by a Small White, causing one of the Marbled Whites to abandon the dance, and the other, if one can imagine a butterfly angry, chased the intruder furiously for 50 metres or more along the sea wall, until they were out of sight.

One of the 101+, female Gatekeeper at Stone. 

Butterfly highlight was a pair of Clouded Yellows, which flew up and down the sea wall at speed, full of the sun's energy, and then ascended, twisting and turning around each other, into the blue heavens. Clouded Yellows are a scarce, accidental migrant from continental Europe, some years irrupting into Southern England across the channel. Sadly they are continuously brooded, and seem unable to survive a British winter, and little correlation is seen between their numbers one year to the next.

View of the Blackwater at Stone

A curious, large black bumblebee was not identified, and I think subsequent investigation led us to the conclusion it was probably a melanistic example of one of the Cuckoo bee species.

Melanistic form Cuckoo bee spp. 

A single small copper, and a number of little orange Small Skippers flew, but Gatekeepers were by far the commonest butterfly, indeed I maxed out the counter on the iRecord butterfly app, which settled, curiously, on '101+.' A beautiful Great Crested Grebe fished on the shimmering water, and Dad enjoyed the song of a Wren from one of the sailing club chalets.

Small Skipper butterfly at Stone

Birds Seen: Great Crested Grebe, Grey Heron, Black Headed Gull, Great Black Backed Gull, Herring Gull, Common Tern, Woodpigeon, Feral Pigeon, Great Tit, Swallow, Wren, Starling, House Sparrow, Dunnock, Pied Wagtail, Chaffinch, Linnet. 

Butterflies: Comma (1) Holly Blue (1) Green Veined White (19) Gatekeeper ('101+') Small White (19) Meadow Brown (24) Small Skipper (14) Marbled White (4) Large White (17) Small Tortoiseshell (1) Clouded Yellow (3) Small Copper (1) (210+ of 14 species) 

Canvey Wick, 21st July 2020

Mumsie and I found our intended destination, the excellent RSPB reserve at West Canvey, was still closed as a result of the coronavirus, so we headed over to the Buglife/Land Trust/RSPB reserve at Canvey Wick, a former industrial site, its concrete now home to some rare and unique invertebrates, including Shrill Carder Bees, one of the country's rarest bees, and Brown Banded Carder Bees.

The summer sun was high, and bright, and the air was calm, the weather glorious. 
 
Sadly, during lockdown the dog walkers had been doing their worst, and the path up from the car park was rather unpleasant, but entering the reserve 'proper' we found a riot of floral colour, from tiny alpines, to large and unfamiliar blooms, scarcities and garden escapes leaf by petal, no doubt. They rather made me wish I was I was a better botanist.

Note figure of 8 on hindwing, leading edge. Brown Argus at Canvey Wick

Note absence of figure 8 on hidwing and additional spot on forewing. Common Blue at Canvey Wick.

From a high wooden platform stretching over the Thames, we saw the unmistakable shape of a Whimbrel, probably a returning migrant, probing about in the mud with sharply downcurved bill, while Godwits flocked in the distance. A Little Egret flew out from under us, brilliant white in the sunshine. There were plenty of Carder Bees of various descriptions about, and beautiful little solitary bees. Whitethroats sang, and we saw many fledglings of this charming warbler. Mumsie found a Wall Butterfly, and a stunning Holly Blue, which invited photography.

Mumsie's Holly Blue

 

Birds Seen: Little Egret, Oystercatcher, Whimbrel*, Curlew, Bar Tailed Godwit, Redshank, Black Headed Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Common Tern, Woodpigeon, Collared Dove, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Green Woodpecker, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Chiffchaff, Lesser Whitethroat, Whitethroat, Wren, Dunnock, Greenfinch, Goldfinch.

Wall 

Butterflies seen: Small Skipper (1) Comma (1) Speckled Wood (1) Peacock (5) Large White (1) Wall (2) Holly Blue (3) Common Blue (1) Small Tortoiseshell (1) Red Admiral (1) Marbled White (2) Brown Argus (1) Meadow Brown (3) Gatekeeper (13) Small White (3) 

Burnet Companion Moth

Wanderings in the Strangest Summer- A Trip South, 17th-21st July 2020, Part 1.

Stretching the definition of 'on the way' a little, I stopped off at Lakenheath Fen in Suffolk on my way to Upminster, from Wirksworth. Lakenheath Fen sits close to the USAF base at RAF Lakenheath, in the Brecks close to the Norfolk/Suffolk/Cambridgeshire tri-point. A new wetland, a masterpiece of habitat creation, its reedbeds and open water were once carrot fields, and they sit alongside poplar plantations, where Golden Oriole once bred, indeed, they were among the last sites used by this species in the country.

Peacock Butterfly at Lakenheath Fen

I was welcomed by friendly RSPB volunteers, who informed me the site was now fully open, the reserve open access until Dusk, and served me a welcome coffee, before I headed up beside the river Great Ouse, looking across its Lapwing and Godwit infested washlands. The thistles presented a wonderful display of Peacock and Red Admiral butterflies, so many of these magnificent but familiar big nymphalids on the wing. I made my way to the Joist Fen viewpoint, which was surprisingly busy, with a lot of people about including a man with a big camera and a sound lure, a device playing Bearded Tit contact calls. These are highly frowned upon, and thought to disrupt birds breeding behaviour, or at least distract them from foraging. After some dirty looks from the assembled he went on his way, and, satisfyingly, no sooner had he done so, than the Bearded Tits arrived, affording us brief but clear views of these charming, mustachioed denizens of the reedbeds, busy, little brown birds with reed-brown bodies, long tails, and in the males, blue-grey heads and elegant black mustaches.

Red Admiral Butterflies and Red Soldier Beetles at Lakenheath Fen.

The Beardies did not hang around, and bird-wise, the viewpoint was quiet, with no cranes to be seen, these being the other star bird associated with Lakenheath, so, making my walk a circuit, I walked back along track and boardwalk, beside open water, and yet more butterflies including a gorgeous Brimstone, toward the visitor centre.

Ruddy Darter Dragonfly at Lakenheath Fen

View of the Great Ouse, Lakenheath Fen

After this I took another, shorter circuit, up to the New Fen Viewpoint, where a Bittern flew by, and Scarce Chaser dragonflies, males tarnished cobalt blue, staining black according to their age, females a shade of gold in the sunshine, alighted on the benches. and Common Lizards sunned themselves on the boardwalk. There were bright scarlet Ruddy Darters here too. Several Marsh Harriers flew lazily above the nodding reeds, these still uncommon raptors now almost ubiquitous in the Anglian fens, and deep in the reeds, Reed and Sedge Warblers, the rave DJs of the wetlands, sang their ever changing, but distinctive, rhythmic song.

Male (top) and Female (bottom) Scarce Chaser at Lakenheath Fen.

I looped around the family trail, taking in the less explored part of the reserve, the air alive with the song of whitethroat, and more spectacular nyphalidae on the wing. Then I headed on my way, back across the country to the M11, the songs of Acrocephalus warblers still ringing in my ears.

Small Copper at Lakenheath Fen

Birds Seen: Canada Goose, Greylag Goose, Mute Swan, Mallard, Tufted Duck, Pheasant, Great Crested Grebe, Bittern*, Grey Heron, Little Egret, Cormorant, Sparrowhawk, Marsh Harrier, Moorhen, Coot, Oystercatcher, Avocet, Black Tailed Godwit, Black Headed Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Common Tern, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Green Woodpecker, Kestrel, Jay, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Bearded Tit*, Swallow, Chiffchaff, Sedge Warbler, Reed Warbler, Whitethroat, Wren, Blackbird, Greenfinch, Goldfinch, Reed Bunting.

Banded Demoiselle (female) at Lakenheath Fen

Butterflies Seen: Near Visitor Centre: Small Copper (3) Small Skipper (4), Green Veined White (9), Red Admiral (19), Meadow Brown (19), Ringlet (2), Peacock (74), Large White (27) Small Tortoiseshell (1) Brimstone (2) 

Near Joist Fen: Small Copper (1) Comma (1) Gatekeeper (1) Green Veined White (10) Meadow Brown (22) Small White (2) Large White (17) Ringlet (4) Red Admiral (26) Peacock (50) Large Skipper (1) 

Near New Fen: Speckled Wood (2) Large Skipper (2) Meadow Brown (8) Green Veined White (2) Large White (2) Peacock (14) Red Admiral (9) Comma (3) Brimstone (1) Small Skipper (3) Small White (1) 

Other notable wildlife: 
Scarce Chaser, Emperor Dragonfly, Banded Demoiselle, Blue Tailed Damselfly, Ruddy Darter, Common Lizard, Rabbit, Grey Squirrel.

 

Cranham Marsh, Essex, 19th July 2020

Cranham Marsh is a small Essex Wildlife Trust reserve, a stones throw from where I grew up, indeed, a short bike ride for the younger me, and a place I loved to visit through my teens and 20s. Indeed, I credit walks at Cranham Marsh with reigniting my fascination with wildlife after a few challenging years I had when I was at University, first time round. It's not famous like Lakenheath Fen, but it is important in my personal headcanon of nature reserves. It has been well used by people, barely sitting outside of the leafy suburb of Upminster, but is by and large treated with the respect it deserves by many people, and I hope continues to inspire suburban people to get out and enjoy wildlife.

Mumsie's Brown Argus. 

It was another gloriously sunny day, and there were abundant butterflies on the Hemp Agrimony and Centaurea and the thistles, including a smart Brown Argus (Aricia aegestis) which Mumsie spotted, and a number of bright Common Blues and Holly Blues, all tiny lycaenid jewels in the long grass and among the flowers.

Peacock on Hemp Agrimony at Cranham Marsh

Jays, and Rose Ringed Parakeets, now ubiquitous around greater London, were calling, and a gorgeous Field Vole, Britain's most numerous mammal, but seldom seen, a small dark ball of fur, ran across the path. It was rather a trip down memory lane. 

Cranham Marsh nominally hosts wet grassland habitat, perhaps better described as seasonally wet, seldom holding much water into the high summer.  In this spell of hot weather we were enjoying, parts of the reserve seemed parched and dry.  The site is said to have suffered from the building of the M25, but it still hosts remarkable wildlife. 

I visited again on the 21st, just as a place to enjoy a cold beer and a bench with an old friend in the scorching sunshine, and on that visit, I managed to snap an unexpectedly interesting photo of bees, on the thistles.

Honeybee and Buff-Tailed Bumblebee on Thistle at Cranham Marsh. 

Birds Seen: Black Headed Gull,  Feral Pigeon, Swift, Green Woodpecker, Kestrel, Rose-Ringed Parakeet, Jay, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Whitethroat, Wren, Blackbird, House Sparrow, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Goldfinch. 

Butterflies: Comma (6) Green Veined White (22) Large White (20) Gatekeeper (12) Red Admiral (4) Meadow Brown (23) Speckled Wood (1) Ringlet (14) Small Skipper (11) Brown Argus (2) Common Blue (6) Peacock (7) Small White (11) Holly Blue (1)

RSPB Bowers' Marsh, Essex

I took half a damp day, the sun gone, to walk around this damp piece of land, an RSPB reserve sandwiched between the Essex town of Pitsea and a landfill site, to walk a circuit, and tick more bird species than I did at their fenland flagship, in drizzling rain. 

There were a few runners and dog walkers taking their permitted exercise, and to my surprise, a few motorcycle scramblers about. Under the partial reopening permitted, I caught the reserve just before it was closed again due to antisocial behaviour.

Record Image of Black Necked Grebe at Bower's Marsh. 

The birds were the stars of the day, and there were many, Avocets had fledglings on the islands in the scrape. A single Black Necked Grebe, an attractive, relatively scarce species, with Macaroni Pengion ear tufts, a distinct, sharply sloping forehead, a ruby red eye set in a black head and neck, and rich chestnut brown flanks while resplendent in breeding finery, hung out on the water with a small band of Pochards, diving frequently. In the reeds at New Marsh Viewpoint, I again encountered Bearded tits, for the second time in three days! A smart male, and two youngsters made their way between the reeds.  Common and Green Sandpipers were on a black and rubbish-strewn patch of water on the other side of the fence separating me from the landfill site. A Marsh Harrier made occasional flybys, putting all the waders to flight.

Record Image of Bearded Tit

Another highlight was the Yellow Wagtails. Summer migrants, this flock included a couple of dapper yellow adults, bright, flying dandelions, and a couple of muddy yellow and olive youngsters.  Yellow Wagtails are a widely distributed and variable species, with geographically distinct races, though these were true yellow wagtails, the near-endemic British subspecies, Motacilla flava flavissima, and had probably bred locally, though in a few months they would begin their long autumn migration to sub-Saharan Africa.  

Despite the grey, there was a Marbled White butterfly on the wing too, big and blousy, blown about by the breeze. 

Birds Seen: Canada Goose, Greylag Goose, Mute Swan, Shelduck, Mallard, Teal, Pochard, Tufted Duck, Black Necked Grebe*, Grey Heron, Little Egret, Marsh Harrier, Coot, Oystercatcher, Avocet, Lapwing, Black-Tailed Godwit, Common Sandpiper, Green Sandpiper, Redshank, Black Headed Gull, Common Gull, Herring Gull, Lesser Black Backed Gull, Common Tern, Stock Dove, Woodpigeon, Magpie, Jackdaw, Carrion Crow, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Bearded Tit, Skylark, Swallow, Sedge Warbler, Reed Warbler, Whitethroat, Starling, Blackbird, Robin, Stonechat, House Sparrow, Yellow Wagtail*, Pied Wagtail, Chaffinch, Greenfinch, Linnet, Goldfinch, Reed Bunting. 


Warley Place, Brentwood, Essex, 19th July 2020


I spent a couple of hours with the family bimbling around one of Mumsie's favourite spots, Warley Place near Brentwood, a fascinating reserve near Brentwood. The reserve's origins are interesting, they form the grounds of a long demolished stately home, once occupied by Ellen Wilmott, keen gardener and plant hunter. Many of the exotic plants she grew in her gardens still survive, though under a canopy of mature trees, the house, unoccupied since before the second world war, was demolished in the 1960s, and the gardens left to fall to ruin, though elements of them have since been partially restored. The historic structures which still stand, parts of a conservatory and a coach house, are maintained in an as-is condition, and the Edwardian glory of the gardens can easily be imagined.

Rutpela maculata on cultivated Rose. 

Two hides stand on the site, overlooking small bodies of water, one a garden pond, the other the irrigation system beneath a long demolished hot house, each with bird feeders outside, attended by Great Spotted Woodpeckers and a few common passerines. Ginkgo biloba grows alongside cultivated roses and bamboo, relics from Ellen Wilmott's day, alongside self seeded secondary woodland.

Among the curious creatures we found was a beautiful longhorn beetle,which Dad spotted atop a rose flower. We identified as Rutpela maculata.  

Birds Seen:  Moorhen, Woodpigeon, Great Spotted Woodpecker, Green Woodpecker (H) Jay, Magpie, Carrion Crow, Coal Tit, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Blackbird, Robin. 

Butterflies: Red Admiral (2) Meadow Brown (4) Green Veined White (2) Speckled Wood (1) Ringlet (1) Gatekeeper (2)