It's Tuesday

Moth Quiz 25

Mam’s candlesticks should look like this

Burnished Brass

Moth Quiz 26

Walking bare-legged, especially at night, through this could lead to an A and E visit.

Tuesday, June 16

Dunwich Cliffs car park was fully booked for to-day, we drove west.

As we stopped roadside, Selbrigg Lake was wreathed in gently swirling mist. Out of the mist came the Mute Swan family, the pen leading the way, graceful and caring, the Cob nearby, wings slightly raised, demonstrating his protective vigilance. Seven Cygnets followed in a single line flotilla, the morning sun shining through their downy feathers. 

Many Dragonflies were already skimming the back of the lake, too distant to identify in the short time we were there. Too many cars about.

The next stop is a favourite. Sitting beside a mill race pond, surrounded by trees, birds singing and Grey Wagtails collecting food riverside is very soul-satisfying.

Sculthorpe Mill Inn is still closed and has sprouted notices stating – very politely – that the public who barbecue and picnic are not welcome. It's private land. A big mess was left after the Bank Holiday. Some people.

From the bridge, Pam spotted a Brown Trout in the clear water. I eventually found it, it was very still and the camouflage is tremendous. Spot the fish.

I didn’t know whether the Wensum had Trout but the manager appeared so Pam asked him. He’s always very affable. He knows we’re harmless! Yes, was the answer but not as many here these days as many dog walkers allow their dogs to splash about in the water.

Poppies are adding to the attractiveness of the countryside at the moment. This view is on Abbey Farm land, distantly viewed from the back lane. Difficult to do justice to its beauty.

At Abbey Farm, after consulting the tide timetable, finding that high tide was threeish this morning, I put Holme into the SatNav and we drove a very pleasant new route through rolling countryside and Fring and Ringstead. Fring looked very well to do. Lovely houses, a roadside stream, rose hedges and well-kept land.

Even the first section of the road out to the Holme reserves is still closed. I reckon that's the house owners taking advantage of the reserve closures. I can't say that I blame them, however frustrating it is.

By now, the sun had disappeared behind thick haar, or sea fret. Visibility had deteriorated immensely. Brancaster Staithe was starting to show the rapidly encroaching afternoon tide current. The boats were wreathed in mist, billowing across the water's surface. Now you see them, now you don't. 

A lone Spoonbill preened on a mud island before flying to join a Little Egret on the marsh. Two Turnstones and one Oystercatcher were the only other birds present. Why do I always dis-count the gulls?

As we drove into Burnham Ovary Staithe, a few families were readying themselves for some aquatic fun. A wet-suited woman was energetically pumping up an inflatable kayak, another mother and daughter had a two-seater kayak and three males of varying ages had paddleboards. We stayed to watch the fun. 

Amidst all this activity, I'd noticed a young woman on the other side of the water, making her way across the mud and suaeda towards where we were parked, which is a known crossing place. At low tide that is. Not now. She was wearing a long skirt too and I surmised that she was in for a swim. Reaching the water's edge, she pulled on a pair of shorts and bagged her skirt. Flipflops in hand, she gingerly traversed the muddy bank before entering the water.

 She was soon up to the top of her thighs, having barely left the bank. 

Sound the trumpets.

Here comes the bouncy castle kayak.

Admirably, she managed to sit across the bows without capsizing the kayak and its paddler. Well done, both the passenger and the paddler. 

She reached shore safely, donned her flipflops and walked away.

During all of this, the paddleboarders were generally milling about, not looking at all expert. A few attempts to stand up soon resulted in the taking up of a kneeling position, an older man even said that he kept using his paddle the wrong way round. All very entertaining, especially as it all ended well.

Stopping to view a Great White Egret closer to the road than usual, although still very distant, we drove home. A supermarket delivery was due at 4.30.
Nearing home, the sign to Witton had a brown lump on the top. A Little Owl. We turned the car around as soon as we could, and as expected, found that it had flown. What a picture that would have made.

Beautifully sunny at home, the delivery van driver said that it was pouring down in Norwich. One day's weather in Norfolk.