Sunday 02 August
9am I woke this morning to the sound of young gulls cawing just outside the caravan and the tapping of pigeons on the tin roof. It was 5.52am but I smiled regardless.
At 8am, Stan and I went for a regreshing run to shake the early morning cobwebs away. Then, with strong coffee and a bacon and egg sandwich, we made a plan for the day ahead. We know that the whole region is very busy at the moment, so parking anywhere is going to be a challenge. As I looked at the map a couple of Pied Wagtails quick-walked their way along the decking rail opposite us.
Hopefully we will be able to find a place to park at Cley-next-the-Sea and do a circular walk around the salt marshes and along the beach. An easy 4km walk to start the week. Bigger plans for tomorrow.
4.30pm I’m sat with the family in the courtyard of The Anchor Inn, Morston. Enjoying a really satisfying pint of Wherry after an 8km circular walk at Cley-next-the-Sea; I vastly under-estimated the distance. I’m finding it hard right now to think of anything more perfect. But that’s what ‘living in the moment’ is all about, I guess?
At home, in Ardleigh, the birds have gone into a kind of retreat. However, this coastline and countryside never disappoints, with some wonderful bird sightings this afternoon.
Why do Lapwings always seem so happy? Whether they’re trudging across mud flats searching for invertebrates or engaged in aerial shenanigans with friends and foes, they always seem to be enjoying themselves. Even their call sounds like they are hysterically laughing. They have certainly made their way into my top five birds this summer. They’re like the Gazza of birds; daft, flouncy and always seem like they’ve had just the one too many
Then there is the ever graceful Little Egret. I hadn’t really noticed this elegant white wonder until this year. It’s behaviour is somewhat ghostly, wading knee deep through the water, with it’s white pantaloons kissing the pond surface. It’s contrasting bayonet-like, black bill skewers just under the surface of the water for food.
Finally, I was treated to an aerobatic display by a quintet of skydiving Common Terns. Standing on the shingle shoreline looking out to sea with my binoculars I watched these flying sea-daggers perform their high-speed stunts. Racing along the sea edge, at almost perfect equal spacing, heads pointed towards the water. Then, in an instant, they scream down, one after the other, stabbing small fish just below the breaks.
The birds are back!
But there were other things spotted this afternoon. Two, very disturbing, carcasses of very similar furry, fawn coloured creatures on the beach. They had hooves; on a shingle beach! Had they strayed the wrong way or perhaps been dragged there? If the latter, then dragged by what? There was also a wing from a Tern – no sign of any other body part. There must be a tale or two there? Could it be the mythical creature from the Cley salt marshes? That may be the reason for the cordoned off areas along the beach; to protect unsuspecting ramblers from a grizzly demise? The laminated notices of closed pathways due to Covid19, or no-go areas protecting ground-nesting birds; are they a convenient cover up?
We are off on another walk tomorrow. In land this time to Walsingham and back to Wells. An East Anglian hot-spot of strange, where I feel that dead eyes are always watching me. Lisa and the kids really don’t like it there either, it spooks them.
The Bald Birder 