Warbling amongst the rushes

Reed warbler: Image via Wikipedia

It was a beautiful day today, the perfect weather to take my parents out for a stroll (well a bit of a hike as it turned out) around Rye Meads and then up the canal to Hertford.

Bar a couple of quick and gentle showers, we had the perfect weather to warm us throughout the day. We headed up the reserve's kingfisher trail, our hopes pinned on seeing the elusive bird in the hide at the end.

Tiny pale blue and larger deep red butterflies flitted between the bushes, heavy with ripe blackberries, that lined the path we were taking. The vast clumps of bullrushes showed evidence of having been visited by the birds as they swayed in the breeze, while blackbirds hopped in and out of the bushes as we ambled by.

The first two hides were a tad disappointing today; just a few coots and the odd duck or two. But when we got to the kingfisher hide, things instantly changed for the better. A beautiful, slightly scraggly grey heron sat on top of the water tap near the kingfisher hide preening its feathers, stretching its legs and yawning occasionally. The thick spread of algae on the water would make it difficult to spot fish; it didn't even seem interested.

After 20 minutes or so of spotting coots, terns and, for the first time in my case, reed warblers we were rewarded with what we had been waiting for. One of the kingfishers shot out of the nest hole, with something large and white in its beak (probably the faecal sac I was told). Ten minutes later he (or she?) returned, hovering with a blur of beating wings outside the nest hole for a few wonderful seconds.

As with all these things, the sighting was brief but very rewarding - and my parents were happy, which was the main aim. While we were in the hide, a few more people joined us, one with a lense about the length of my arm. I sensed they were getting slighlty annoyed when I accidentally dropped my rucksack on the floor with a bang and my dad was struggling with the zip on the binoculars' case, though neither had any effect on the birdlife outside. What is hide etiquette? Are you meant to remain hushed and try your best not to make a sound or is it generally acceptable to have a chatter and maybe a spot of lunch while you while away the time? Personally, I think as long as kids aren't running around screaming and people are not shouting across the hide at each other I'm happy - though of course there is something beautiful and unusual in pure silence.

The king of birds

Image by SteveB! via Flickr

A sense of anticipation hung in the air at the Kingfisher hide at Rye Meads yesterday. The half a dozen people in there exchanged whispers - and sandwiches - while glued to the sand bank a few metres across the water to our left. And then it happened in a flash - a kingfisher shot out of one of the holes, straight up and over the foliage across the water...and it was gone. The shutters went off but there was no chance of getting a picture.

We waited another ten minutes and were rewarded. Back through the same space came another kingfisher - the female, I was told, as she has a red beak, the male's is black. Happily, she landed on the the pole metres from the nest and sat there for a good ten seconds or so. It gave us all a good chance for photographs or in my case, just to get a close look through the binoculars at my very favourite bird.

I waited another half hour, all of us hoping she would come back out or that the male would return, but eventually I gave up.

The other hides were also fruitful. There were tufted ducks, coots with their chicks, a coromorant, a common tern, a flock of black-headed gulls and a grey heron that sat for a good hour at least on the top of a low tree by the water (I saw it on the way to the Kingfisher hide and the way back).

I'll be back to check on the kingfishers in a couple of weeks time.

Walkers spoonfed in Norfolk

PHOTO COURTESY OF BRENNAN MULROONEY

I would love to have been with the group of visitors on a guided walk at the Norfolk Wildlife Trust's Cley Marshes last week. The group were treated to the amazing sight of 12 spoonbills feeding together. This is the highest number recorded in a group since the Second World War when 17 were seen in 1940. 

Following the recent hot weather and lack of water (ha! well at least that was the case...), staff at the nature reserve opened an inlet pipe that runs water on to Pat's Pool. Stickleback fish - the 'genius' of the fish world - were sucked through the pipe, attracting the spoonbills. 

The colour rings on two of the spoonbills indicated that the birds were hatched in the Netherlands. One has been recorded as far north as Caerlaverock, Scotland and Cadiz in Spain, where it spent the winter. These same two birds have regularly been on the south west coast of England, showing the distances they travel.