Sunday 14 February
I’ve noticed how the birds really bring movement to the views at this time of year. The scenery is pretty empty of movement in the winter. Mostly this is because the trees and hedgerows are skeletal with little to no foliage. Even the strongest winds produce nothing but sound.
But the hops and skips of the songbirds along the fringes of fields, the aerial ballet of gulls above the ploughed soil provide some much appreciated animation.
Around woods and copses, crows and rooks scatter from their high perches in slow moving crowds. Before slowly circling, realising there is no threat, and returning to a new spot on the same trees.
Every so often some new character comes along. Last week a buzzard launched itself into the air, dragging itself up to the height of two end-to-end telegraph poles before catching the easterly wind in its primary feathers and broad tail. Within a few seconds it was just a dot in the low sky.
I must have done something good this week, I’m a firm believer that good things come to those that deserve them. As we emerged from a public footpath onto a lane, an equally stark shadow came into view. This shape, however, was sharper, slicker, cleaner edges. A week defined wing tip and the unmistakable forked tail. This beautifully gracefull Red Kite was also making use of the icy cold easterly breeze.
It too was at a thankfully low altitude, allowing me to see the twitches in its tail and pitching of its wings to plough up and down the fields searching for rabbits and other mammals. As it methodically surveyed the open space below I fumbled for my phone to take a picture. Not quick enough, the wind is cold and quick.
Our walk today took in the next ‘chunk’ of the Essex Way. It brought us around the back of Boxted, a hugely overlooked part of the county. The dips and slopes lead to trickling brooks and viewscapes that seem unfamiliar to the flat, mono-landscape we’re used to.
The Bald Birder 