A Good Morning

Sunday, May 30

We tend to shun Bank Holiday birding. Too many people about. Such a lovely morning, it was a shame to miss out. Maybe Hickling would be reasonable. It's possible to walk the reserve outside opening hours. We need to drive to Whiteslea Lodge, with permission from the Centre, which is not open until 10 a.m. 

Arriving almost bang on 10, Pam was served by an  - as usual - reluctant and unwelcoming volunteer - who hailed a warden. Pam waved the Blue Badge, and was answered with a smile and a wave. The first section of hedge and tree lined track was alive with song.The only car around, we could loiter, hearing Whitethroat, Lesser Whitethroat, Willow Warbler, and Goldfinch. Did we see them? No. Apart from silhouettes flying out of dense leaves and away. 

The long straight to the Lodge passes through a woodland before the marsh, strangely quiet to-day, apart from the kleep of an Avocet from unseen ponds the other side of the bank. We have Damselflies flying at home, no sign of any Odonata here  The sky was full of hurtling Swifts, the rising eddies of insects ahead of the car testifying to a good meal in store. A male Reed Bunting flew across the path, landing in a nearby spiky bush to broadcast its rather unassuming song.

From Whiteslea's small parking area, where we stayed for about half an hour, a Garden Warbler's song kept a small group of birders gazing, perplexed, at a tree. I don't think that they ever saw it. Two different Marsh Harriers lazed through.The much more urgent flight of two Hobby,  gave shorter views than desired, a catch-up for Pam. An even faster and shorter view of an arrowing Kingfisher, skimming the reed bed. All accompanied by the unheralded, ear- piercing burst, of a Cetti's Warbler's song. A thoroughly enjoyable couple of hours.

The pear-shaped central bed, concealing four manhole covers re-planted by Andrea last Autumn, is coming along nicely.