Foxley Wood guided walk, 23 April 2021

It was a perfect spring day at Norfolk Wildlife Trust’s Foxley Wood nature reserve, timed to enjoy spring woodland flowers at around their best. Even around the car park we found lots of common dog violets. A dog’s mercury we looked at had distortion and swelling on a leaf, likely to be caused by a rust fungus Melampsora populnea.

Foxley Wood in the sunshine.

Just around the corner, a willow warbler sang in full view. It’s an ideal time to see a willow warbler: freshly arrived, keen to sing to establish territory and easy to see before leaves emerge on trees. Other warblers singing this morning were chiffchaffs and blackcaps. It wasn’t a day for seeing a lot of birds though we did have good views of two marsh tits and heard mistle thrush.

Common dog violets.

 

Wood sorrel.

Mostly this was a morning for enjoying glorious weather and spring flowers. Water avens was beginning to bloom in damp patches on the wide rides. Wood anemones and wood sorrel were expected but lovely anyway. Bluebells were in bud or just coming into flower, in great carpets once we’d reached the coppiced area, just after we’d bumped into an NWT team taking a break from working on the electric fence that protects coppice from browsing deer. Bugle in bid, patches of greater stitchwort and endless lesser celandine added variety.

Wood anemones.

Brimstones, orange tips and peacocks were all much in evidence. A beetle on the path was an invertebrate curiosity: this was later named as red-breasted carrion beetle Oiceoptoma thoracicum. According to Brock’s book, adults and larvae of this species feed on other insects in dung and carrion.

Red-breasted carrion beetle.

A moth with an obviously orange underwing was later named as, er, orange underwing Archiearis parthenias. Day-flying and strongly tied to the presence of birches: sometimes going up the learning curve is easier than other times! In grassy areas, there were plenty of bees, especially red-tailed and buff-tailed bumblebees.

Foxley Wood is a great place for fungi enthusiasts in autumn. Not so in spring, though today we found hoof (or tinder) fungus on birch. This was the species found on Otsi the Iceman, presumably for its tinder qualities. James Emerson tells me that, “It was present in Norfolk before the last ice age, but has recolonised in the past 10-15 years, starting in the west in places like Dersingham.”

Hoof or tinder fungus.

We failed to find herb paris though that was more than compensated for by Cheryl being alert to an early purple orchid coming into flower. I don’t recall seeing one in flower in April, in the UK.

Early purple orchid.

Chris Durdin

Burnham Norton and Holkham NNR guided walk, 16 April 2021

Sunshine with a cool northerly breeze greeted this week’s Honeyguide group, with Rob Lucking, around the grazing marshes of Burnham Norton at the western end of Holkham National Nature Reserve (NNR).

Grazing marshes at Burnham Norton.

A great white egret was out on the marshes, though it was displaying waders that stole the show. Calling redshanks rose and twisted on angled wings; lapwings tumbled and others could be picked out on the ground sitting on nests. There were oystercatchers, too, and a few curlews.

Paul Eele, warden of the NNR and a former RSPB colleague for Rob and me, came past and paused for a chat. He confirmed that the water channels on the grazing marsh had been enhanced by a rotary digger, here in the natural-looking shapes of creeks of the saltmarsh that it once was, centuries ago. In what is becoming a very dry April, Paul also told us that this old grazing marsh was retaining its water much better than marshes that are more recent reversions from arable to grass.

It was a good morning for mammals. At the back of the group, Helen and others saw a weasel cross the path. There was hare to our right and a Chinese water deer scampered across the marshes to our left before disappearing into reeds. Later, Ann saw an otter on the gravel by a gate in the marshes; two others managed to see it before it went out of sight into a ditch.

We heard a sedge warbler but we failed to find the yellow wagtail that Rob saw briefly. Later we found a singing sedge warbler that stayed where it was to allow good views through telescopes. Marsh harriers were constantly on the move. Then two more very good birds: the first was a bittern that boomed, albeit not often. The second was an immature little gull that was flying over a flooded area among a much larger group of black-headed gulls. We found it again on the return leg of our walk, including settled on the water. The dark lines on the upper wing means it was a first-winter bird, and it lacked the smoky underwing of the long-staying adult little gull at my local patch of NWT Thorpe Marshes (photos from Thorpe here).

At the farthest point of this fairly gentle circuit we overlooked saltmarsh out towards Scolt Head and inland towards Brancaster Overy Staithe. Avocets were feeding in creeks and a flock of brent geese flew towards us and settled.

View over saltmarsh towards Scolt Head.

The sea walls were dominated by alexanders coming into flower, on which were many ladybirds. There were mason bees in the dry path and one I photographed on alexanders I think was grey-patched mining bee Andrena nitida.

Grey-patched mining bee (provisional ID).

On the lagoons on this part of the walk we added shovelers, teals and tufted ducks to the gadwalls and shelducks seen already. Little egrets go almost without comment nowadays and the great white egret returned.

We said farewell to Honeyguiders not staying on for the afternoon; those out for the day had their picnic lunches in the sunshine by the cars, under the willows with the singing chiffchaff. Swallows came over us here.

A short drive took us to Lady Anne’s Drive at Holkham which was busy with people, as were the machines issuing tickets for parking. The popularity of Holkham beach means birds are acclimatised to people and the sculpted channels and scrapes in the marshes either side of the road had plenty of birds, offering close views. These include more displaying redshanks and lapwings, a snipe, close curlews, some late wigeons and more brent geese. After visiting loos at The Lookout café, we walked along the back of the pines and immediately lost the crowds who were obviously here for the beach.

It was sheltered and warm and that brought out butterflies, three that were first-of-the-year for most of us. A male orange tip flew past, then a green-veined white settled on a flowering currant. The third was a speckled wood, dancing around a stump. Peacock butterflies dashed past as well and a willow warbler sang. A marsh harrier called; the male was high above us, over the Corsican pines, in courtside display.

Holm oak leaves: the bumps are Aceria ilicis mite galls, the brown patches are leaf miners. 

We noted how holm leaves were scarred with the tunnels of leaf miners. Then Rob showed us an odd tree planted here long ago: winged elm, also called cork-winged elm on this Holkham blog; the photo shows why it is so named. Wahoo is another name given on Wikipedia for Ulmus alata, introduced from North America.

Winged elm.

Some turned back before we reached the far (and closed) hide that overlooks the cormorant colony and heronry. The others didn’t miss much: two spoonbills in flight only and no egrets on view, just cormorants and woodpigeons. We paused on the return walk to see what we’d earlier noticed a Naturetrek group observing: the larval pits of antlions, a relatively recent colonist here. The slippery sides of the pits, for trapping and consuming ants, recalled the sarlacc in the Star Wars film Return of the Jedi.

Antlion larval pit.

We all returned to the cars at much the same time and were able to enjoy a good view of a red kite over the marshes. How amazing that red kite, marsh harrier and buzzard should all be routine sightings – a transformation within our lifetimes.

We then drove a little farther west for a brief visit to North Point wetlands at Wells-next-the-Sea (previously visited by Honeyguide on a much chillier 1 April). There were many hares on the fields and waders on the lagoons, including black-tailed godwits and ruffs, but we couldn’t find the reported grey phalarope. A spoonbill and a red kite flew over.

Wells North Point wetlands, one of the lagoons.

Chris Durdin

Potter Heigham guided walk, 8 April 2021

No rain, no hail, no snow: after recent ‘spring’ weather, that was a result on today’s guided walk at Potter Heigham marshes in the Norfolk Broads. It was far from warm and the wind was pretty brisk, it has to be admitted. The gardens of the chalets by the River Thurne were under water, but compared with the recent flooding in the River Yare that was minor and no problem on our route. 

Once we reached the newly created reedbeds and lagoons there were plenty of birds to see. Greylag and Canada geese were expected but a single pink-footed goose was not. Perhaps it was a late stayer, one of the thousands that winter in the Broads. Maybe it was injured but, if so, there was no obvious sign of that.

Pink-footed goose, with greylags either side.

Lapwings displayed and oystercatchers called though they were overshadowed by the amazing number of avocets, far from their usual coastal lagoons. There were 60 in a tight flock and another 15 or 20 not far from the main group. A single black-tailed godwit flew through, but the water was too deep for other waders. 

Avocets at Potter Heigham marshes.

Shovelers were the most obvious ducks though perhaps teals were the commonest, plus a scattering of wigeons, tufted ducks, pochards, gadwalls and shelducks. 

Mostly shovelers, with a wigeon far left and a gadwall right of centre.

The loud and distinctive song of Cetti’s warblers was frequent, albeit expected. It was when we reached a group of willows that we heard the sweetest sound of the day, a single willow warbler, my first of the year. That apart, summer visitors were simply absent, which surprised me as I’d seen scores of hirundines in the Yare Valley during the past week. There were distant buzzards (one over the garden on my return home was much closer, though) and marsh harriers showed well. 

We watched hares in a field by the track that makes the return leg to the car park in Potter Heigham. Then a strange bird for April: a single whooper swan, keeping the company of a mute swan. I’d seen this bird here in late February, so it was less of a surprise for me; perhaps – like the pink-footed goose – it has an injury, but again that wasn’t apparent.

Whooper swan, right, photographed on 24 February when it was much closer to the path. 

Back at the car park, most of us went to buy some food, hot drinks or other items in Lathams, which at least is a way of saying thank you for the store’s splendid car park. 

Chris Durdin

Wells guided walk, 1 April 2021

It may have been April Fool’s Day but no-one was fooled by the sudden drop in temperature after the late March heatwave. Rob Lucking met us in Wells-next-the-Sea and we walked to where a stiff northerly breeze was coming over the sea as we headed along East Quay. The nearest saltmarshes were covered by a high tide; there were brent geese but few waders.

Crab pots with house sparrows on the quay.

Alexanders was dominant along parts if the sea wall, as on much of the coast, though the plant we looked at closely was by the crab pots with house sparrows. The reason was to look at galls, like blisters on its leaves: often galls are from insects, but these are created by a rust fungus Puccinia smyrnii.

It was quite a relief to drop down out of the wind with some shelter from the sea wall as we reached North Point wetlands. Rob explained how this was arable land that the farm found difficult to crop and, with Natural England’s support, created the series of lagoons there now. Two marsh harriers flew past and the male settled on top of a hawthorn. Nearby there was a brown hare next to a heron and more hares on a more distant field.

From left to right: redshank, male shoveler, lapwing, two avocets, female shoveler.

Waders were everywhere: in the lagoons, on the islands, flying over. Avocets were especially showy, and some we saw mating. Oystercatchers and redshanks were noisy in their usual way, and lapwings showed why they are also called peewits. Teals and shovelers were the most numerous ducks, with a sprinkling of gadwalls and shelducks and a single wigeon. A group of gulls on the far lagoon included great black-backs.

As we moved back towards Wells, harriers were joined in the air by a buzzard and then a red kite. We watched a chiffchaff in the scrub as well, though this windy morning small birds were generally low in numbers; reed buntings and singing skylarks were nice to see or hear. The tide was dropping now, making it easier to see curlews.

North Point wetlands, one of the lagoons, Wells.

Honeyguider Dilys lives in Wells and it was a great pleasure to go to her lovely garden for coffee and to eat picnics. Her garden has ivy mining bees, though just holes in a grassy bank today. On disturbed ground below the holes were several plants of henbit deadnettle, which is quite a scarce flower of light arable or disturbed ground.

There are still vacancies on the Honeyguide break in North Norfolk that Rob Lucking is leading in May 2021.

Wells and Stiffkey with Rob Lucking

With an eye on local walks and the Honeyguide break in North Norfolk in May, Julie and I joined Rob Lucking* to visit two of his local patches.

We met in Wells-next-the-Sea and started by walking along East Quay, opposite the extensive saltmarshes that dominate this part of the coast. There were close groups of brent geese and a nice selection of waders, as you might expect, including curlews, redshanks and grey plovers.

But the star birds flew past on the landward side, over the rooftops of the quayside properties: a raven, shortly followed by a second. They were heading west and disappeared from view over the main part of Wells-next-the-Sea. It's not often that I see a new bird for Norfolk. I release that there may be readers of this blog west of Norfolk (just about everywhere!) for whom a raven is an everyday or at least a regular occurrence. Over here in the east, ravens just haven’t been part of the scene for all of my birdwatching life. That’s beginning to change now, rather like how buzzards and peregrines are now routine in the right places. There has been one pair of ravens in west Norfolk since 2018, and an increasing scatter of records elsewhere in the county.

House sparrows were nipping in and out of lobster pots piled up on the quay, much as they like to dive into the safety of thick hedges.

North Point wetlands lie immediately east of Wells. It’s a series of pools, wet in winter and spring and drying in the summer, visually rather like the scrapes at Minsmere or Titchwell Marsh. It’s new habitat created on what was, by all accounts, an area of arable that the farmer found was difficult to make pay. Natural England encouraged the landowner to create the wetlands now in place, with a modest amount of land forming and water control structures. Forgive the lack of photo: at this point of the morning, it was raining and the wind had a biting edge.

Avocets were what especially caught the eye, a couple of dozen in a tight flock. Shelducks, little egrets, black-tailed godwits and various other ducks and waders made a nice mix. Spoonbills drop in regularly: the colony at Holkham isn’t far away, but none today. There’s a patch of scrub that is alive with warblers in spring, says Rob. We retreated from the wintry weather for loos and a take-out coffee in Wells.

Saltmarsh at Stiffkey.

We drove a short distance east to Stiffkey, with some sunshine at last. There seemed to be marsh harriers everywhere, plus buzzards and a single red kite. Stiffkey Fen is more habitat creation, supported by Stewardship payments. Rob is involved with weekly monitoring visits, counting birds mostly; an area of chalk grassland provides botanical interest in summer. Today there were more avocets and black-tailed godwits, plus brent geese again on nearby saltmarsh. Happily, there is public access as the North Norfolk Coastal Path runs through the area. All too soon it was time for our picnic lunch and for parental taxi service duties for Rob.

New wetland at Stiffkey.

Highland cows at Stiffkey.

* Rob Lucking is a former RSPB colleague of Chris Durdin and a Honeyguide leader, especially from when we used to go to Lesvos. There are still vacancies on the Honeyguide break in North Norfolk that Rob is leading in May 2021.

Chris Durdin

Notes on the 'bearded eagle’

I cannot be the only person in lockdown digging out books that are normally rarely opened, which prompts me to share an extract from Cassell’s Natural History Vol III edited by P Martin Duncan MB FRS*.

The text (including the splendid drawing shown here) runs to 3½ pages and is based on accounts by various correspondents. These two paragraphs particularly caught my eye, about the 'Bearded Eagle, or Lämmergeier’.

Line drawing scanned from Cassell’s Natural History Vol III.

‘In Algeria, the Lämmergeier is said to feed largely on Land Tortoises, which it carries to a great height in the air, and drops upon a convenient rock, so as to break the shell. So much has been written upon the habits of this bird that it would be impossible to give here one tithe of the interesting notes which have been published in various works and periodical; but no history of the species, however brief, would be complete without a passing mention of the little girl who was said to have been carried off in childhood by one of these birds. The history, believed by him to be well authenticated, is related by Naumann as follows. – “Anna Zurbuchen, of Hatchern, in Bern Oberland, born in 1760, was taken out by her parents, when she was nearly three years old, when they went to collect herbs. She fell asleep, and the father put his straw hat over her face and went to his work. Shortly after, when he returned with a bundle of hay, the child was gone; and the parents and peasants sought her in vain. During this time Heinrich Michel, of Unterseen, was going on a path to Wäppesbach, and suddenly heard a child cry. He ran towards the sound, and a Bearded Vulture rose, scared by him, from a mound, and soared away over the precipice. On the extreme edge of the latter, below which a stream roared, and over whose edge any moment would have precipitated it, Michel found the child, which was uninjured, except on the left arm and hand, where the bird had probably clutched it; its shoes, stockings, and cap were gone. This occurred on the 12^th of July, 1763. The place where the child was found was about 1,400 paces distant from the tarn where it had been left asleep. The child was afterwards called Lämmergeier-Anni, and married Peter Frutiger, a tailor in Gewaldswyl, where she was still living in 1814.”

‘The circumstantial way in which the above narrative runs appears to leave little doubt of its reality, but it is difficult to give it credence, as the Lämmergeier has but little power in its feet, which resemble those of the Vultures; and most of the stories of its prowess have been discredited by the researches of modern naturalists. Dr. Brehm observes: – “To my intense astonishment, the Spanish hunters did not regard this bird as in the slightest degree as a bold, merciless robber: all asserted that it fed on carrion, especially bones, only attacking living animals when driven by necessity. They called it ‘Quebranta-Huesos,’ or the ‘Bone-Smasher,’ and assured me that this favourite food was broken in a singular manner. My later observations proved nothing which would justify my treating their statements as otherwise than correct, so I was forced to come to the conclusion that the Lämmergeier has been much maligned.”’

Quite an anecdote, but credit to Professor Duncan for challenging it, and to the observations of the Spanish hunters that chime with what we know now about the bearded vulture or lammergeier, a bird much appreciated by many Honeyguide groups in the Pyrenees and Crete.

* A fuller listing says edited by P Martin Duncan M.B. (Lond.), F.R.S., F.G.S., Professor of Geology in and Honorary Fellow of King’s College, London; Correspondent of the Academy of Natural Sciences, Philadelphia.

 

Vaccination progresses

“Have you had the jab yet?” It’s a regular question as my barbershop chorus meets on Zoom on a Wednesday evening. So I keep my end on mute, but it’s trickier one-to-one in break-out rooms. I am trying to master saying, “I’m too young” without sounding peeved that I look like I’m in the currently eligible over-70s demographic. I can’t blame Zoom for grey hair.

But I admit to just a little envy of those who’ve been able to get vaccinated and seeing at first-hand the steady progress of the nationwide programme. So when an email from Voluntary Norfolk arrived asking for help at a vaccination clinic withing walking distance, I was happy to accept a shift and to see how it all works, especially as requests for prescription collection/delivery have gone from very occasional (four since lockdown) to none at all.

Walking to Lionwood Medical Practice in heavy snow, I wondered what the PPE on offer would be for ‘vaccination stewarding support (patient flow)’. Snowshoes and full Arctic gear? The email warned that I might be outside and to wear appropriate clothing.

Snow and ice at the medical centre.

Actually, it was a mask, surgical gloves and yellow Covid-19 hi-vis vest. I was inside, so had strip off several layers of outdoor clothing to look after what I called the ‘departure lounge’, where those driving waited for their regulation 15 minutes before leaving. It involved showing people where they could best sit, socially distanced, where to keep an eye on the time (with help offered on the arithmetic) then cleaning seats with surgical wipes after they’d gone.

Overall impressions were as good as the reports I’d heard from others and read in the newspaper. There was an atmosphere of calm efficiency, fitting what the email had advised “as a marathon, not a sprint.” Everyone did what they were asked, some expressed grateful thanks, and some were happy to chat as far as it was possible given the spread-out seating and masks. The task was ideal for a first-time volunteer: what in my job evaluation days might be called ‘routine repetition of skills’.

A few more lines might come in handy. “Welcome to the departure lounge, your flight departs in 15 minutes” seemed OK. “There’s room to sit on the front row; you’d pay extra for that on easyJet.” “Been self-isolating anywhere nice recently?” No, I didn’t try that one.

An experienced hand thought that it was quieter than usual: about 80% turning up, given the conditions, where usually it was 95+%. It was good to see the expert advice on BBC Look East that evening that a few closed vaccination sites and no-shows was sensible and rational: a real danger from icy conditions trumps a jab that can be postponed for the theoretical risk from Covid-19.

Writing this as the vaccination total is more than 12 million, it is at last feeling like there is some hope of Honeyguide activities resuming, perhaps back to rule-of-six or similar within the UK. We’ll see what the promised ‘road map’ says later this month.