Wolves in Finland – a dream come true

Of all the creatures in the world, wolves draw me to them more than any other. I have longed to see them for more years than I can remember and I have always thought that getting clear up-close views would be forever beyond me.

I have spent many hours on trips to Spain, Poland and Sweden trying to get even the slightest glimpse of them but usually to no avail. I have seen a wolf, twice, on separate trips to north-western Spain but on both occasions the views were distant and fleeting. On other trips I’ve found the signs of wolves including footprints, scent marking, scat and the grizzly remains of kills, but have often been a few minutes behind them and never caught up.

The first time I stood in wolf territory, in Sweden, I could sense their presence in a way I couldn’t quite understand; something in the deep pine forest, the dark lakes, the misty meadows. It felt different to move through that land knowing they were there. That feeling captured my imagination like no other animal has before or since.

So, to celebrate a rather large birthday recently, we flew to Finland to spend time looking for wolves as well as other mammals that live in the northern wilderness.

…and on one night my dreams came almost unbelievably true…

We headed to the far east of Finland to Kuhmo, not far from the Russian border. After driving out to a ‘base camp’ in the forest to collect some provisions and a couple of sleeping bags, we moved out to within 150 metres of Finnish/Russian no-man’s-land. We entered our two person hide, with its comfy benches, narrow observation windows and holes for cameras, and settled down for a 14 hour stay and what we thought would be a long, and possible fruitless, wait to see wolves.

Defying expectations immediately, a brown bear appeared in front of the hide, followed shortly after by a wolf! They both checked the area right in front of the hide for some of the limited food that is put out to attract them. They appeared indifferent to each others presence; rivals in truce with the food available to both of them. Flying around them were gulls and ravens in good numbers, attracted by the bait but wary of the large carnivores.

As these two wandered off, another bear and wolf appeared and checked out the area for food. The bear took a large chunk of meat and trotted off into the distance while the young wolf continued to hang around, with yet another bear appearing. The wolf soon picked up a large piece of meat itself and ran off perused by the bear into the distance.

During the first few hours of watching, the cloud came in and it rained heavily. The photographs I took were given an extra dimension with the water forming beads on the long grass and changing the texture of the bears’ fur particularly.

We spent around six hours from the moment we arrived at the hide, watching the bears and wolves looking for food and interacting with each other. At one stage, a large male bear appeared and wandered through looking for a meal. In the distance a mother bear and two cubs cautiously moved through the tree line. The male bear spotted them and headed off in lumbering pursuit with the mother and cubs making a quick exit. Later the small family approached the hide from a different location but didn’t stay long, wary about the presence of other bears.

In all, we saw four wolves, the alpha male and female and two youngsters from last year. For a short while three of them came together, the small pack bonding in the long grass. One of the youngsters submissively lay on its back as the alpha male stood over it and the alpha female joined them. This stood out as a the sign of watching wildlife acting perfectly naturally, unbothered by our presence in the hide.

The tense truce between the bears and wolves finally broke towards the end of those six hours as the food diminished and the competition for that which remained increasing. The alpha pair started pestering a bear with the wolves rushing it and the bear retaliating and chasing after them. Some distance away, it was hard to see if any food changed hands but it was clear that the wolves were becoming an annoyance to the bear like crows are to the red kites that float above our garden at home.

Eventually, the bears and wolves melted away into the distance and peace fell onto the area, bar the odd screech of a gull or cronk of a raven. The birds had been there throughout the hectic period with the bears and wolves and the large number of ravens, in particular, provided a backdrop to the feeding. Also making an appearance were several white-tailed eagles, two of which sat just a short distance away, enabling me to get the closest pictures I’ve taken of these huge birds.

As the light started to fall, we were given one last view of the wolves as they reappeared close to the hide, seemingly on the purposeful journey to our rear. The alpha pair and a youngster passed in front of us and vanished off to our left, not to be seen again.

Now started the long wait. With another eight hours in the hide, there wasn’t much to do but patiently sit, scanning the distant treeline and hoping something of interest would appear. The Finnish nights in July don’t get properly dark, instead a light twilight descended on the scene. All the details were still visible, even the trees 500 metres away. Towards the end of the vigil, as the sun rose again, a mist started to form over the land. This turned into thinker clouds slowly moving across the land, from the open area into the trees. As the mist dissipated, a large dark figure moved slowly in the distance, a final view of a large bear.

I barely expected to see one wolf, let alone four, and so close that I managed to get some photographs I have only dreamed of capturing. Without doubt this was one of the wildlife highlights of my life, alongside very few that can rival it.

This night was part of the Finnish Mammals trip operated through Naturetrek and led by the brilliant Belgian guide, Jan Kelchtermans.

Birdsong-bathing

After visiting in May last year, I made a trip to our local wildlife trust’s Strawberry Hill reserve not long after dawn this morning.

I’ve written about the site previously including how the 350 acre former arable farm has been left rewild since the 1980s and demonstrates how, if left alone, nature can recolonise land with remarkable success.

The purpose of my walk around the site today was to experience the sound of the dawn chorus as full as I’ve ever heard it in the UK. I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since I did the same last May and was astonished by the richness and volume of the sounds.

As I walked around the site, it was like bathing in the birdsong; completely shutting out all other sounds and focusing purely on the calls and songs coming from the sky, trees and scrub that surrounded me. I spend an intense, yet peaceful, two hours walking along the paths and rides through the site allowing the sounds to wash over me.

Here’s a video showing just a small fragment of the soundscape I experienced:

One of the main reasons for going was to hear the call of nightingales. Last year I heard seven singing males, much to my amazement and joy. Today they were a lot harder to find and, when I did, they seemed to be much deeper into the scrub, away from the paths. I heard distant snippets of their calls occasionally and only once did I find one close enough to hear its song clearly. This was the only disappointing part of the visit and I hope to go back to see if I can have more luck, perhaps in the evening, to try a different time.

If I can’t return this spring, I have no doubt that I will now spend the next year dreaming of this place and longing to have the opportunity bathe in the dawn chorus again.

May is upon us

It’s been ages since I posted here, for a variety of reasons, but hopefully more posts to come over the next few weeks.

…but how did we get to May so quickly? I’m not complaining at this is my favourite month – so much natural energy in the fields, hedgerows, woods, rivers and coasts. My lunchtime walk demonstrates this well with the birds singing, a clear blue sky and the brightness of the spring leaves and blossom. I want to savour it this year as the months are flying by and it will soon be gone.

Fortunately I we have a week off coming up, spent in Cornwall, but also some evenings and weekends to spend exploring locally.

Spring at Willow Tree Fen

At the weekend we made our way to a nature reserve that’s new to us: Lincolnshire Wildlife Trust’s Willow Tree Fen. Located to the west of Spalding, it’s about and hour and a half from us but it was well worth the drive.

In a very sunny Easter bank holiday Monday we spent well over two hours there watching the wildlife. The visitor area is, essentially, a viewpoint from a car park, as the rest of the reserve was closed to visitors during the pandemic. However, from that spot visitors get a great, expansive view across the site with its lakes, ditches, grassland and reedbeds.

During the pandemic closure, common cranes moved in and started breeding and they were our primary target for the day; we weren’t disappointed. Over the course of our visit we saw over 30 individuals and plenty of action. We saw pairs wandering around and mating as well as groups flying from area to area including some close passes.

We also saw good numbers of other birds and mammals including sky-dancing marsh harriers, loads of roe deer and a prowling stoat.

But, back to the cranes, this is one of the best places to see them in England and I certainly had my closest views of them in this country. When they have their chicks, we will be back.

An early spring?

The last week or so has been warm for the time of year and today looks set to reach 16 degrees. Yesterday morning the birds were in full song as dawn came and many were still at it when I went out for a lunchtime walk.

The plants have also taken note of the early warmth with the blackthorn starting to blossom and the hawthorn breaking out into leaf.

Next week, there will be another sign of spring with the lambs starting to be born in the field at the bottom of the lane.

After a long winter, hope of good weather is returning and the long-dreamt of spring may have arrived.

A little bit of joy between the downpours

Our seemingly endless wet weather came to an end yesterday with some lovely sunshine. However, today the rain has returned and it kept me inside for the morning. I just had to head out and get some exercise, so despite more looming clouds, I went for a cycle through the drenched Northamptonshire countryside.

The ground is saturated after weeks of unrelenting rain and, after this mornings heavy soaking, many of the country lanes have streams running down them. The fields have a lot of standing water and at the bottom of the nearby low hills, water seems to be bubbling up through the ground.

The rain had stopped as I headed out but it started again as I turned for home from the furthest point of my ride. Just as I was about start wishing I hadn’t left the comfort of my home, a little bit of unexpected joy sprang up. Either side of the road were skylarks up in the sky singing away. If I closed my eyes and ignored the cold on my face and rain drops hitting my cycle helmet, it was almost possible to imagine it was spring.

Unfortunately, the rain started to drive down harder and any thought of warmer days was quickly put away, as I plodded on with the last few miles of my soaking wet cycle.

…but that little bit of joy on a dark, damp day, lifted my spirits for the week ahead.

A first dawn chorus

Unusually, I’m on the way into work on a Monday morning but I’ve been cheered up by the dawn chorus while waiting at the station. It’s just a handful of robins and a distant song thrush but there is certainly some spring energy to it. This positive song of spring is backed up by the increasing light in the sky, despite being completely overcast.

Testing digiscoping

Last weekend I treated myself to a new wildlife-watching telescope. I’ve been thinking about it for ages, and with a big birthday coming up later this year, I’m decided it was about time to take the plunge.

I have never properly tried digiscoping with my old much less powerful scope (using the scope as a lense for a camper or camera phone). When I bought my new one I bought a digiscoping attachment that works with my phone – much better than trying to line up the camera lens with the scope eye-piece by hand.

On a short visit to Pitsford Reservoir near to my home today, I gave the kit a first proper try and it worked quite well. This pair of goldeneye floating past of the lake was the best I could do – unfortunately I missed the male doing a short bit of displaying…

The weather today is far from sparkling, with cloak of grey cloud over the land; I’m hoping for far better results once the sun starts to reappear.

A day for staying inside

Despite leaving January behind and spring bulbs starting to break cover, today really does feel like the depths of winter. There may be no frost or snow but the low cloud gloominess and a brisk chilling wind make being outside particularly unpleasant; and that’s before the afternoon rain arrives.

I often find February to be the month where I really struggle with the dark days and the seemingly endless wait for spring. I’m hoping with more exercise, I’ll be able to avoid the worst of it. We might now be a long way from Christmas but I feel this is still a time for bringing both light and coziness into the house while we wait for the light to return.

North Norfolk in winter: A dusk ‘safari’ along the lanes

We’ve just got back from a two-night stay in North Norfolk. This is one of our favourite places for a winter break with the wildlife along the coast some of the best you can find in what can a bleak season in England.

The over-wintering birdlife is our usual focus for our days out and this visit was no different. However, a change of plan gave us some spare time at the end of the second day and we took the long way back to our lovely rental cottage in the village of Blakeney. Rather than sticking to the coast road we headed a little inland and drove slowly along the single-track roads. The landscape here, back from the marshland coast, is of rolling arable land with a mixture of unfenced fields and others surrounded by high, thick hedging. In winter, these fields are either starting to show the first green shoots of this year’s crops or still lying to bare soil. Some of the fields without the early growing crops have been cleared of sugar beat or have been used to house free-range pigs.

As we made our way along the narrow lanes, we stopped at field gateways or gaps in hedges to scan the land with our binoculars to check for wildlife. We almost immediately found a hare and as we progressed onwards we found more and more. Sometimes there was just a solitary hare sitting at the field edge but on other occasions there were pairs, either sitting close to each other nibbling on those fresh shoots or, in a few cases, starting to slowly chase each other across the open ground. This was perhaps the first signs of pairs coming together to breed, but it seemed a long way off the chasing and ‘boxing’ of the mad march hares.

Also out in the fields we increasingly saw groups of deer as the light began to fail. We saw three species out there; the native roe and two imported species; muntjac and Chinese water deer. Most of the deer were too far away to photograph by one water deer stayed calmly close-by as we stopped the car to take a look.

In all, all we must have seen upwards of 40 hares in our slow drive back, over the course of an hour or so. This really highlighted just how rich in mammal life North Norfolk is as well as being home to so much bird life.

As we were about to finish our little driving safari we could hear a few geese nearby. We drove around for a few minutes unable to find them. Just as we were about to give up, we came to a muddy track alongside a hedge behind which we thought we could hear them. As we came to a gap in the hedge, we were given a view of a huge flock of pink-footed geese, numbering in the thousands, feeding on a sugar beet field. We arrived just in time to see them lift from their daytime feeding and head off to the safety of their coastal roost out on the mud of The Wash. For me, there is little that stirs my soul more than a mass of wintering geese calling as they fly into the night.