Waders

Friday August 19 

Having an unespected 'free' day is like being gifted a holiday. Adrian and family are camping in Suffolk, the garden's needs will have to wait.  There's been a fair number of early migrants around this week, Pied Flycatchers in particular. None of them really available for us, we might be lucky. The bird present at the Bee-eater nests'  quarry wasn't there for us. Two birds from one nest have fledged, the other nest's occupants still being fed.

We decided to worship at the altar of waders, a favourite genus for both of us. A shame that it takes over an hour and a half to drive there, but it's worth it when car birdwatching is the only option. Our regular stops are useful too. We only made two to-day, both almost entirely lacking in life.

I had assumed that the Snettisham Sailing Club's arena was the sea. The building is on the sea side of the track, as is the extensive boat storage area.. As we approached the first pit before the chalet park, it was obvious that somewhere much more accessible was also in use.  We have never seen any sailing boats on here before in all our visits. Mostly Toppers, a beginner's dinghy, milling about in the light breeze.

 

Earlier this week had been a period of high tides leading to what is known as the  'Snettisham Spectacular' . It was only a 5'3 metre high tide to-day, we were there an hour beforehand. Plenty of birds still remained on the mud, thousands more crowded onto the islands in the last pit.

The black and white Oystercatcher march, in front of the incoming tide, extended several hundred metres. They do not fly until they have to. Neither does the scattering of Godwits, Curlew and Redshank. The near mud and shoreline was largely occupied by Great Ringed Plovers, their 'doolip' calls forming the bachground to the restless flights of Dunlin and Sanderling. Most of the Red Knot were on the pits.

 On the intermediate mud, rested at least 30 Little Terns, a few Common Terns, and Sandwich Terns, amongst them. A good mixture of juvenile and adult birds, including some Sandwich Tern already moulted into winter plumage, looking more punk-like than usual. 

 

A  passing birder informed us of a Great Skua roosting on the beach. Abandoning our lunch, off we went. No sign of it. No-one else had seen it either. Shades of past twitches. Very few of those were unsuccessful though.

Time to drive home. No moth traps to open to-day, having a rest day. Pam picked Greengages instead. We have two trees of 'proper' Greengages, not green plums, with the biggest crop we have ever had. They are very susceptible to early frosts. It's difficult to judge when they are ripe as they do not soften like Victoria's for example. Unless one is very watchful, the first sign is that wasps and birds have found them first.