onionbagblog

Early Saturday morning and @AnnaJCowen and I were booked in one of the Birdwalks being run by Richard Allen, Wivenhoe’s Birdman Supreme. This was the second time that I have joined the monthly meet of the estuary twitchers, walking out to the Creek and taking in the visitors that take a shine to Wivenhoe for a few months each year. It was the first Birdwalk for the Girl, but judging by the size of her binoculars, the early bird was after the worm.

Eye eye…

The daily commute along the Wivenhoe Trail whetted my appetite, with a sighting of a redshank earlier in the week. Slowly, slowly and that Penguin Book of Birds is starting to find a welcome home. Pigeons from South London have been replaced by plovers from around these estuary wilds. The breadcrumbs were left back at base.

Saturday morning was the perfect weather for hyperlocal twitching. With enough blue in the sky to make a sailor a pair of underpants, our group had a clear run out to Alresford and all that the brisk estuary air had to offer. Which included an exceptionally high tide – not quite the wading bird’s best friend.

Tide and time wait for no tern…

I was struggling myself with the watery eyes from the night before. The mid-winter rays were causing a cascade down my cheekbones. Either that or the rare sighting of a Great Northern Diver just out in the estuary channel was leaving me emotional.

What became clear as we departed the Sailing Club is that the many migrating birds have sussed out the Wivenhoe tidal patterns in advance. After a night of hunting on the muddy banks of the Colne, they were now taking a breather, scattered territorially across fields and reed banks, waiting for the river to reveal once again the food for the day.

This could have been just another estuary walk, if indeed you can describe the natural beauty that we are blessed with as just another outing. With the expert eye of Richard Allen however, every minor rustle on water and land led to another species being located and ticked off the list.

Bird watching is Richard’s passion and profession. He later explained how an instant identification is usually undertaken by working out not what the feathery friend is, but by what the bird isn’t. It’s a bit like the process of elimination when you first enter a nightclub, and your natural eye leads you in the direction of whatever you desire.

A bird in the hand, blah blah blah.

Highlights on Saturday included a particularly proud heron perched in the field to the back of the Sailing Club, a well disguised green woodpecker lurking in the bushes opposite Ballast Quay, and even the Wivenhoe seal bobbing up and down mid-channel.

The Oyster Catchers outside White House Beach were hanging on to the rapidly disappearing dry land. A collective WOOH! could be heard from the Wivenhoe twitchers as the Marsh Harrier swooped down off Fingringhoe Wick and seized upon his prey.

With high tide chasing the walkers and our winged friends back towards Wivenhoe come mid-morning, the walk back to the Sailing Club heard stories exchanged from our birding experience. It was also a very visual reminder as to how Mother Nature is a little mixed up right now – golden leaves still adorn the oak trees and the last of the summer sloes are all but ripe for picking.

But the morning was all about the birds. Oblivious to Wivenhoe life, happy to make a temporary home here once a year. Come Fly With Me, as I remarked to @AnnaJCowen on the walk back to base. But not with binoculars that size, Madam.