17th Dec.
I remember a time when I walked, often long distances, admired the
scenery, but if I’m honest didn’t take in too much of my surroundings. Watching (and listening) is paramount now and
has been for some years and for me there is no better time to do this than on
clear winter days such as today has been.
The walking element is still important to me, but is far more focused on
the natural world around me these days.
To the hide.
Today’s walk began at Holywell Village
and of course led to the area of the pond.
Temperatures had dropped considerably from yesterday’s mildness and the
light was sharp and clear in the late morning sunlight. The tree lined pathway to the hide was far
busier than usual with small passerines including Tree Sparrow. The reason why
became clear when we met trust volunteers in the hide who had just topped up
the feeders. We saw the first of a
number of Reed Buntings outside of
the hide and the family of Mute Swans
were beneath the windows. The coldness
of the hide overcame any temptation to settle too long here and we made for the
public hide having heard the call of Water
Rail and overhead the call of Fieldfare. The pond was relatively quiet and only three Wigeon appeared to remain, and no Teal
were seen today. Gulls, Black Headed, Common, Herring and Greater Black Backed, flocked on the
surface of the water along with wildfowl which included Greylag Goose, Tufted Duck,
Goldeneye, Mallard and Gadwall. A solitary Grey Heron stood on the island.
Pink-footed Geese
All was silent apart from the distant call of a Curlew as we headed out into the open
fields. Two skeins of geese then flew
overhead, the first may have been Greylag,
the second definitely thirty-five Pink-footed
Geese, their calls clearly heard.
Then Sam picked up the call of Grey
Partridge which we failed to sight as we scanned the ploughed field. A Kestrel
hovered and a Sparrowhawk flew
northwards from the dene. I had just
been joking about my failure to sight a single Yellowhammer in the UK
throughout 2016, at least in part as my outings have been hampered at times,
when a Yellowhammer flew across the
field and into the hedge. It was a
relief to get this on my list and it was followed by at least two more in quick
succession. It’s good sometimes to have
to wait for such sightings of common birds then you don’t take them for
granted, of course the Yellowhammer
is far less common now than it once was.
Such was my pleasure in watching this species today I’ve included a few
lines form a John Clare poem. Perhaps it
is a bit unseasonal as the poem is about nesting Yellowhammers. John Clare
certainly used his eyes and ears when watching the natural world around him and
cared about it deeply and I have my friends Hilary and Kelsey to thank for
introducing me to his poems.
Five eggs, pen-scribbled o'er with ink their
shells
Resembling writing scrawls which fancy reads
As nature's poesy and pastoral spells—
They are the yellowhammer's and she dwells
Most poet-like where brooks and flowery
weeds
As sweet as Castaly to fancy seems
And that old molehill like as Parnass' hill
On which her partner haply sits and dreams
O'er all her joys of song—so leave it still
A happy home of sunshine, flowers and
streams.
The pathway to the dene differed greatly from the solidly
frozen walkway we had followed on our previous visit and it was deep mud and
waterlogged in places. We were soon
watching more passerines in the hedge including Chaffinches and Reed Buntings. The sun shone dazzlingly through the now
leafless trees and made our sighting of the flock of Brambling difficult viewing.
There appeared to be a slightly larger flock than on our previous visit,
but the birds were very flighty and it was difficult to estimate numbers,
although we thought about thirty. A Dipper sang as we watched the Brambling and other woodland birds
including Long Tailed Tits and Nuthatch. We eventually made a descent into the dene
where the light was already beginning to lessen and the colour was
predominantly that of winter, umbers and browns. The walk to Seaton Sluice offered little in
the way of birdlife once we had left the flock of Brambling and other woodland birds behind us.
Dene path
After a very late lunch we walked to the headland. It was difficult to believe it was December
as there was no hint of a breeze and the sea was flat calm, emphasised by the very
stable passage of a small fishing boat leaving harbour. As we are approaching the shortest day of the
year the sun was dropping low in the sky, but there was still a good amount of
light and in contrast to the dene quite a range of colour. The deep blue of the sea was cut at the
horizon from the much paler blue of the sky, just as if someone had drawn a
curved line with a pencil where the colour changed. What small amount of cloud there was over the
sea and coastline was patchy, thin and mauve in colour, but looking south the
thin layers of cloud behind the lighthouse was becoming a deeper shade of
orange as the minutes went by. We were stood on rock slightly below the top
of the cliff so we were protected from any sound coming from the passing
traffic. With no wind there was silence
apart from a lapping tide below us, with a larger wave occasionally raising the
sound level and pounding on the cliff to the north. The surf made varying patterns as it ebbed
and flowed over the almost flat table like rock surfaces. Even the small flock of Oystercatchers stood motionless and without calling until two or
three lifted, flew south and made their familiar call. A lone Curlew
and a number of gulls passed over the sea, again apparently silently. Small pools of seawater trapped on the rock
reflected an almost silver light. Sam
pointed out the steps apparently carved into the rock which came to a sudden
stop where the cliff dropped steeply to rock below. I had never noticed these steps before and
wonder how old they are. It would seem
that there have been changes in the structure of the cliff for them to end so
sharply with a sudden deep drop at the edge.
Perhaps the steps were put in at the time the Deleval’s altered the
course of the harbour?
Tranquility
Sam in action
As we walked back to the village it felt a little like
returning from a long trip. The sun
wasn’t far off setting as we travelled home and I was thinking that there would
be a good sunset to view this evening.
Temperatures were dropping.
Perhaps some may be surprised, but my bird of the day was without doubt
the long awaited Yellowhammer!
