You are welcome to join me on this thirteenth of a series of articles taking a look back over my shoulder at some sightings that have not only delighted us but startled and surprised us.
Way back in the late 1970’s and 80’s, we were primarily interested in birds and secondarily in flowers, not having yet developed the all-embracing interest in nature that we have today. At that time, the nature reserve at Cley on the north Norfolk coast was a favourite destination, and we learned so much from the birds we saw in this small reserve, me with my Zeiss Dialyt 10x40B and Troubadoris with her Leitz Trinovid 8x40B.
It was not unusual at that time to see flocks of 6, 8 or even 10 Snipe foraging together, and it was here that we first encountered Green Sandpiper, Wood Sandpiper and Spotted Redshank, all lovely birds and fantastic to see them at such close distances. We didn’t get too many surprises at Cley, although the Flamingo in 1982 was one such novelty, and we did wonder, but not seriously, if it could possibly be the same Flamingo we saw near Middlesbrough in 1974, refusing to land on the semi-industrial landscape of the Seal Sands Reserve.
However we did have two extraordinary sightings at Cley, both totally unexpected and quite unlike any sightings we have had before or since. The first occurred as we were walking quietly and slowly between hides (blinds), and we were on a path with pools on both sides, both choked with reeds.
We stopped and stood silently to watch flocks of waders passing overhead, mainly Redshanks, but with some Lapwings, and just before we spoke to each other, it happened. A bird of roughly the same shape as a Moorhen but with grey-brown plumage rather than black, and covered all over with either white spots or streaks, gently pushed its way out of the reeds to our left. It walked up the slope from the pool onto the path in front of us, only about 3 metres away, stalked across the path, and down the slope on the other side then disappeared into the reeds. We had no idea what it was at the time but a quick look in our field guide revealed that it was a Spotted Crake. This species was, and as far as I know still is, quite rare as a breeding species within the UK, although its true status is hard to pin down as they are normally so secretive, and their numbers can only be assessed by counting the numbers of males calling during the breeding season.
Every expert source we could check at the time, and most websites today, all say something along the lines of ‘this is one of the most difficult species to see’ and the RSPB states “If surprised in the open, they run for cover or jump up and flutter away”. Well, the one we saw looked totally serene and not in the least bit concerned about our presence, as it sashayed across the path in front of us.
This description also applied to our other ‘totally surprising’ sighting at Cley. Technically speaking, this sighting might not have been precisely within the boundaries of the reserve, because we made it while walking along the path a little to the west of the Cley wetlands that leads to the coast. From the coastal embankment you get a good view over the whole reserve and after a short distance another path can be taken to bring you back to the road that passes just to the south.
We were about half-way towards the coastal embankment when we saw two figures emerging from the Cley wetlands and walking over to join our path. We were a little curious about who these might be because they were walking where visitors are not normally allowed. The taller of the two men appeared to be listening intently to the other man who was illustrating what he was saying with authoritative gestures. I took this latter to be a warden and was about to ignore both of them when something struck me about the upright posture of the taller man which began to suggest to me a person who at some point had worn a uniform. They were both dressed in outdoor clothing and wearing rubber boots so there was nothing very remarkable about their appearance.
Very soon they walked past us, going inland towards the road, and as they did so, the presumed warden gave us a nod of greeting, while the taller, very upright man gave us broad grin and said “hello”, which we happily returned. It was then that I recognised him as the Duke of Edinburgh, husband and consort of our Queen Elizabeth, and who passed away on the 9th of April this year.
Lee
Way back in the late 1970’s and 80’s, we were primarily interested in birds and secondarily in flowers, not having yet developed the all-embracing interest in nature that we have today. At that time, the nature reserve at Cley on the north Norfolk coast was a favourite destination, and we learned so much from the birds we saw in this small reserve, me with my Zeiss Dialyt 10x40B and Troubadoris with her Leitz Trinovid 8x40B.
It was not unusual at that time to see flocks of 6, 8 or even 10 Snipe foraging together, and it was here that we first encountered Green Sandpiper, Wood Sandpiper and Spotted Redshank, all lovely birds and fantastic to see them at such close distances. We didn’t get too many surprises at Cley, although the Flamingo in 1982 was one such novelty, and we did wonder, but not seriously, if it could possibly be the same Flamingo we saw near Middlesbrough in 1974, refusing to land on the semi-industrial landscape of the Seal Sands Reserve.
However we did have two extraordinary sightings at Cley, both totally unexpected and quite unlike any sightings we have had before or since. The first occurred as we were walking quietly and slowly between hides (blinds), and we were on a path with pools on both sides, both choked with reeds.
We stopped and stood silently to watch flocks of waders passing overhead, mainly Redshanks, but with some Lapwings, and just before we spoke to each other, it happened. A bird of roughly the same shape as a Moorhen but with grey-brown plumage rather than black, and covered all over with either white spots or streaks, gently pushed its way out of the reeds to our left. It walked up the slope from the pool onto the path in front of us, only about 3 metres away, stalked across the path, and down the slope on the other side then disappeared into the reeds. We had no idea what it was at the time but a quick look in our field guide revealed that it was a Spotted Crake. This species was, and as far as I know still is, quite rare as a breeding species within the UK, although its true status is hard to pin down as they are normally so secretive, and their numbers can only be assessed by counting the numbers of males calling during the breeding season.
Every expert source we could check at the time, and most websites today, all say something along the lines of ‘this is one of the most difficult species to see’ and the RSPB states “If surprised in the open, they run for cover or jump up and flutter away”. Well, the one we saw looked totally serene and not in the least bit concerned about our presence, as it sashayed across the path in front of us.
This description also applied to our other ‘totally surprising’ sighting at Cley. Technically speaking, this sighting might not have been precisely within the boundaries of the reserve, because we made it while walking along the path a little to the west of the Cley wetlands that leads to the coast. From the coastal embankment you get a good view over the whole reserve and after a short distance another path can be taken to bring you back to the road that passes just to the south.
We were about half-way towards the coastal embankment when we saw two figures emerging from the Cley wetlands and walking over to join our path. We were a little curious about who these might be because they were walking where visitors are not normally allowed. The taller of the two men appeared to be listening intently to the other man who was illustrating what he was saying with authoritative gestures. I took this latter to be a warden and was about to ignore both of them when something struck me about the upright posture of the taller man which began to suggest to me a person who at some point had worn a uniform. They were both dressed in outdoor clothing and wearing rubber boots so there was nothing very remarkable about their appearance.
Very soon they walked past us, going inland towards the road, and as they did so, the presumed warden gave us a nod of greeting, while the taller, very upright man gave us broad grin and said “hello”, which we happily returned. It was then that I recognised him as the Duke of Edinburgh, husband and consort of our Queen Elizabeth, and who passed away on the 9th of April this year.
Lee
to be strolling casually about in the open.
