The Met Office regards September 1st as the first official day of
autumn. As I stepped out of the car at Strumpshaw Fen this morning coincident
with rain beginning to fall from dark lowering clouds whipped by a stiff
northerly breeze, it seemed the weather was doing its best to ensure summer was
indeed at an end. But slowly the thick cloud cover broke up allowing welcome
sunlight to filter through the woods and transform the scene to one of riches
and delights.
I stopped to peer into a patch of brambles at the crossroads of the woodland trail, standing stock still to slowly scrutinise the myriad leaves and twigs entwined therein. Life was everywhere. Wasps and hornets investigated each fruit cluster; the former for sweet sugars the latter for fresh flesh. Flies of many colours, sizes and shapes basked in the sun’s rays or danced with each other amongst the foliage. Dark bush-crickets sat motionless in the dappled sprays, surprisingly hard to spot until you got your eye in and then they seemed to be everywhere. Common darters perched upon the topmost sprigs angling themselves southwards to absorb the rays of the fleeting sun whilst pristine speckled wood butterflies played around them flying up to intercept anything winged that invaded their territory.
Speckled WoodPlenty of these lovers of dappled shade were on the wing |
Dark Bush-cricketFearsome looking but completely harmless |
Several forms of shield bug, in their camouflage livery of green
and brown, bedecked leaves now beginning to drain of chlorophyll and grotesque scorpion
flies, banded hover flies and predatory small spiders provided a vibrant supporting
cast. A fascinating show of nature’s bounty.
Green Shield Bug |
Scorpion FlyAnother Fearsome looking creature |
Along the river bank the fruits of the season clustered thickly
on the verdant growth. Blackberries gleamed ripe and plump, clusters of
elderberries, black and juicy, drooped invitingly, guelder rose berries shone
impossibly bright and hips and haws lay ready for plunder. Many birds were
already tucking into this rich harvest, blackbirds, blackcaps, robins and
bullfinches I watched gorging themselves, the latter located by their soft subtle
piping and only glimpsed briefly as they took flight when I clumsily made a too
sudden movement. Ivy flowers proved popular with more wasps and flies, almost
as popular as the lilac plumes of late buddleia adorned today with lone
brimstone, a deep orange comma and several splendid red admirals.
Female Blackcap Tucking Into Blackberries |
Female Southern Hawker |
From the high vantage point of Tower Hide I logged what is for me
a UK first in the form of the great white egret that has been present here for
a few weeks. This bird flew in squawking to itself from the direction of
Brundall before busying itself with making inroads into the local fish fry. The
snake-like shape of this species neck is quite extraordinary. From certain
angles it looked no thicker than an inch and gave the bird a decidedly ungainly
countenance. But they are big birds and make little egrets look very little by comparison. Even grey
herons cannot quite compete in stature although surpass the egret in bulk. This
coloniser from Continental Europe spent the next hour fishing out of sight
behind thick screens of browning reeds heavy now with ripening seed heads, so I
contented myself with watching the other characters on display. It was a
tranquil scene with the birds content to rest and bask in the late summer
warmth, their hectic breeding cycle complete for another year.
Many shoveller, gadwall and teal were busy bathing, preening or
taking a nap. The bathers would throw themselves forward, splashing wildly as
they momentarily submerged in the clear waters. Then they would vigorously
shake themselves before repeating the process a few times. A cormorant gawkily
flew in, alighting on the small dead tree used as an anchor for a coots nest
during spring. This bird had presumably fed well and was now content to set
about anointing its feathers with oily secretions and digesting its catch. When
the sun peeped from behind a cloud the plumage of the cormorant was transformed
from a drab black to one of subtle green and purple lustre. A young common tern
was periodically fed by its parent and a small party of ruff probed the muddy
margins, a pair of buff washed juveniles amongst them. Behind them a water rail
weaved amongst the reed stems ever stealthy and watchful.
CormorantThis individual was anointing itself with oil secreted from a gland above the tail.The bird reaches back and collects the oil on its head which it then rubs onto the rest of its feathers. |
On my walk back along a now sodden track thanks to a very high
tide, I wondered if I might be able to catch up with the great white egret and
so it proved. The bird was fishing with a heron in one of the wider channels
overlooked by a conveniently sited wooden bench. I attempted to creep as close
as I could with the idea of watching the bird for a few minutes and taking a
few photographs. I should have known better although I did manage a few flight
shots as it squawked and made its escape.
Great White Egret |
Huge Wings! |
But Strumpshaw was not quite finished with me yet, for despite
getting soggy feet I caught up with several common lizards basking on the
wooden sleepers bordering the sandy wall. I saw perhaps half a dozen dozing
motionless along here, some of them young of the year. One was quite green in
colour and a couple had lost their tails. With care it was possible to get very
close to these creatures – smooth slow movements is the key, not
easy for my creaking carcass. I sat close to what I believe to be a large
female and watched it catch and crunch a spider that scuttled too close. It
took the lizard quite a white to consume this hapless arachnid as all it could
do was effectively crush it to a digestible pulp before swallowing it. The more
I looked the more sense it made for the lizards to choose to spend their time
loafing around on these exposed patches. Not only were they maximising the
warming effect of the sun but they were also surrounded by prey that quite
literally walked into their jaws. Spiders, ants and beetles were all scurrying
along this artificial corridor – a highway to hell if only they
realised.
No comments:
Post a Comment