First decision of the day was easy – stay in Norfolk. There were still good birds to be found, and being autumn I was confident many of the arrivals of the week wouldn’t be anywhere new anytime soon.
The second decision a little harder – where to start the day? The prospect for new arrivals felt low, so the day was all about digging out birds waiting to be found. Somewhere with enough cover to hold birds (not a Blakeney Point day) but not too much that it would be needle in a haystack time (Wells Wood) was required. I eventually settled on Wareham Greens, then a walk along the coastal path to Stiffkey, where the Campsite Wood had held three Pallas’s Warblers on Friday.
Up well before dawn, rain was falling that was not in the forecast. Perhaps there may be some new arrivals after all? A Tawny Owl was perched in trees overhanging the road as I drove past Holkham Hall.
Arriving at Wareham Greens in the dark, I couldn’t decide where to park. I’d seen a number of farmers active already this morning, and didn’t want to block their work. The fresh mud on the track at Wareham suggested very recent activity, and the last thing the farmers needed was a birder in their way. So it was I decided to drive to Stiffkey, park in the car park next to the campsite, and do my planned circuit in reverse.
I wasn’t expecting so many cars to be in the car park already. As I got my boots on in the half-light, 20 middle-aged, loud and terribly well spoken ladies were gathering in the car park, complete with bags and dogs. Great. Their very high spirits quashing mine.
In the hope of getting ahead of them I dashed past where they were stood and into the wood. What a mistake, it was far too dark to see anything in the wood yet. And then very shortly the whole group of ladies loudly passed me, on their way to go for a dawn swim in the very high tide. Unexpected, indeed.
Another birder soon approached me, from the direction of the car park. “Have you seen anything?”, the usual ask. “No, too dark still isn’t it” I replied. “No Rufous Bush Chat?” he said. I laughed. Then he turned his phone screen to me “cos one’s just been mega’d from here”.
WHAT?
Picking my phone out my pocket, which had been tucked away on silent, I could see Simon ringing me, plus a missed call and a message saying “Get to the ******* stiffkey campsite now”. The mega alert read “just east of the car park”, so being just 150m E of the car park meant I quickly turned back to try and figure out what was going on – I couldn’t see another birder!
Just before the car park, I suddenly bumped into four other birders, including John Reeve and Paul Varney. They were stood exactly where the group of ladies had been stood earlier, the spot I’d hurried passed, and looking towards a small patch of Suaeda on the edge of the flood.
 |
| It's in that first Suaeda bush |
“Bush Chat?” I enquired. “Yes, it’s been on the track, now it’s in that Suaeda”. So, not a hoax! After a few minutes wait Paul called out “it’s on the track”, closer than where we’d been scanning. I caught a glimpse of a sandy brown passerine just as it decided to fly back into the Suaeda, revealing as it went a rusty red tail, with a black terminal band and striking white tail tips.
RUFOUS BUSH CHAT!!
People began arriving, recognisable Norfolk faces, but the bird wasn’t showing. An agonising 15 minutes later I suddenly saw it fly out the back of the bush and called it “It’s flying!”. “Give it space” shouted Ticker from behind his mask as the bird dropped into the vegetation at the edge of the car park, “and remember your social distancing!”. Very 2020.
It promptly flew again, to the hedge line just west of the car park. A few people, James McCallum included, dropped back into the stubble field inland of the hedge and picked up the bird feeding on the ground in the field edge. Here it gave fantastic views for the next 10 mins or so to all assembled and arriving birders. What a bird, a UK listing myth in the skin in front of us. Fabulous.
Suddenly the bird flew up again, into the tree in the hedgerow, and then again out, across the saltmarsh. It landed 300+ meters away, in Suaeda on an island in the now retreating tide. Wow, was that it? Could that get refound, or would the 60 or so people on site be the lucky ones, the bird’s legendary status maintained?
 |
| On the back of Ashley Banwell's camera |
More birders were arriving all the time, and with no desire to be anywhere near a crowd I headed off into the campsite wood. I enjoyed chatting with a shell-shocked John Reeve, the enormity of his find not yet sunk in.
At the far eastern end of the wood a fantastic Pallas’s Warbler was showing well, restlessly moving through the sycamores, calling frequently. The woods held little else, and across the saltmarsh I could see birders spread out, wading between dry patches in what appeared to be a vain endeavor. Then, suddenly, I could see running, pointing and gathering; the bird amazingly refound. I had no interest in joining the resulting scrum. It was time to head west.
No comments:
Post a Comment