High tide was posted as being at 9.20; we left home at 6.45 on a very dark and dull morning. The drive there was excellent, hardly any traffic - and we went straight through on green on all of North Walsham's traffic lights. The only bird worth noting on the way was a Red Kite.
We were on site by 8.15, finding The Wash awash already. The apparently empty water gently lapping the shore. Not even a Shelduck in sight. No other birders either, a much bigger surprise. If we'd arrived much earlier, the light would have been non existent or even worse than it was now. It meant that we'd missed the balletic swoops of the morphing birding masses making their way off the Wash, as the tide encroached their feeding grounds.We drove to the first hide.
Despite the 7.1 metre high tide, there was still enough sea-free land on the Lincolnshire west coast of the inlet. The lagoon islets were nearly empty of waders, although I did count at least 128 Cormorants silhouetting the far islands. Where were the 40 thousand plus birds? Here, on the west shore, Lincolnshire's trees visible in the background. What looks dark is the bird mass.
Whilst waiting for the tide to drop, I scoped the masses, much frustration. Too distant and appalling light. Small groups of Linnets and Meadow Pipits flew through, Pied Wagtails and juvenile Ringed Plovers chased along the shingle bank. Four Reed Buntings flitted through the bushes, a family party? A lone, probably injured, first Brent Goose of the autumn, preened and stretched on the shore, a small party of 'wink, winking', Pink-footed Geese flew high overhead. Also my first of the season. Pam had a flock fly over the house this morning.
As the Samphire banks became exposed, the first restless waders took flight. before landing on the first of the exposed mud banks.
Time to drive to the gate end, where the water enters first and leaves last. A lone canoeist allowed the ebbing tide in the main creek, parallelling the shore, to carry him fast right, his paddle held clear of the outrushing water. I did have a photo, my machine destroyed it.
As the birds landed, the first thing that they did was to preen, and then, promptly go to sleep. A small flock of diminutive Sanderling did precisely that.
Alerted by their raucous call, I found a few remaining Sandwich Terns and a lone Common Tern on the shoreline.
As the non optic toting dog walkers began to arrive, we drove straight home, after a soul satisfying few hours with waders at the peerless Snettisham Reserve.
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