Ten years of blogging

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With this 570th post, I’ve reached ten years of blogging on this site. It is somewhat surprising that I’ve kept it going so long; I only set up my blog to ‘give it a go’ a see if some longer-form writing would give me an outlet for my thoughts beyond the usual social media.

The blog started 18 months after I retuned to work following a 12-month career break. So much of that year was spent in nature with a mixture of volunteering, wildlife trips and photography, that it helped me find a new enthusiasm for the world around me and gave me a much more positive and constructive life overall. Before the break I had very little to say beyond my work life and I would never have blogged about that; I’ve always tried to keep work and home separate and leave thinking about work to weekdays. Continuing to spend my time away from work in nature in a number of different ways led me to consider blogging. I had done some (pretty rubbish) creative writing as a mindfulness practice and it seemed to work in moving my thoughts away from work. Doing things more interesting and constructive with my free time also gave me more inspiration to write and it just seemed to be an obvious extension to my practical conservation volunteering and photography, adding another dimension and enabling me to dive more deeply into my interests.

I can’t say this is the most keenly read or most visited blog and certainly not the best written or most thought-provoking. However, it does have a small band of followers and it does have individual posts which continue to be read years after they’ve been written. It seems that my posts on Scottish Islands and my trip to the Falkland Islands (also nearly 10 years ago) continue to get the most visits. Perhaps a bit of Googling while planning a holiday is the main source of my visitors.

The most visited posts at the time of writing have always been those about my volunteering at the Glaslyn ospreys in north Wales, where for a number of years I did nest protection shifts each spring. From the statistics page for my site it’s very easy to see when I stopped doing those shifts as my visitor numbers have never been the same since.

The subject which I have most prolifically written about is probably Ramsey Island. Since 2012, I’ve spent one, two or three weeks a year there as a residential volunteer for the RSPB, which all culminated in a three month stay in 2019. When I’ve written so much about the place, it’s hard to think of new things to say but I’m sure I’ll be inspired some more by my next visit.

I also can’t say that it hasn’t been a struggle at times to keep it going and to generate the enthusiasm to do so. Certainly over the past two or three years my rate of posting has dropped markedly. I have a generally strong underlying angst over the state of nature, the country and the world as a whole. I find so many things so concerning and hugely negative. I often find it exhausting when thinking beyond my own little world and at times writing about nature, when I feel so depressed about it, is almost the last thing I want to do. However, perhaps my blog should again be a place for positivity in the face of all the negativity around us.

At this ten-year mark in my blogging, I have considered whether it’s time to stop. It would end the false pressure and guilt I put on myself for not posting but it would seem such a waste of all the effort I’ve put in over the last decade. I also feel I still have so much to say, possibly, in fact, more than I used to. Almost by chance, my work has started to encroach on areas I blog about, with rural transport and wider countryside and coastal issues being a key area of my weekday focus. I don’t want my private time and work to mix too much but my personal thoughts on some of the crossover subjects could form the basis for future posts.

So, at this 10-year point, I don’t intend to leave the blog behind but, instead, find some new energy and, hopefully, new ideas, to reinvigorate my site and continue posting for a good while yet.

I’ll finish my post with a video. It was shot on my phone at Snettisham on the Norfolk coast of The Wash a couple of weeks ago. My wife and I had a weekend away, staying in a lovely pub nearby. One evening we went to the shoreline at the RSPB reserve to watch the dusk flight of birds as the tide came in. The result was a natural spectacular with thousands upon thousands of geese and waders putting on a show at a scale seen in few other places in the UK. It was a truly inspiring sight and one that re-energised my love of nature.

Ending the week with owls

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To make the break between the working week and the weekend, yesterday evening we had a sunset wander at one of our usual spots in the Brampton Valley. Almost immediately after getting out of the car we spotted a white shape flying low over the rough grass area amongst the now empty arable fields. Looking through our binoculars it was instantly recognisable as a barn owl. We slowly made our way along the farmland track to get a closer view and a second owl a popped up. We watched the pair for about half an hour as the light faded until they both flew off towards a nearby barn.

We’ve been visiting the spot often since we moved into the area two and a half years ago but only in the early days did we see barn owls there. So this was a delight and we’ll go back more often at sunset to see if we can find them again.

Moving into autumn

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Despite the weather remaining warm, today felt like we’re finally transitioning into autumn and approaching the return leg into the colder and darker seasons.

This morning, we first went to gather some blackberries from an abundant spot I noted on my cycle yesterday. It was quite strange that the location hadn’t been picked-out already as it was just on the side of a quiet lane and not far from a village. We collected enough to go into a Kilner jar to make some hedgerow gin and into the first homemade pie of the season to follow the first post-summer roast beef Sunday dinner.

After collect that good crop, we went for a walk around our nearest reservoir at Ravensthorpe. On the drive there we could see the leaves starting to turn and even a few already fallen to the ground. The duck and geese numbers are starting to build but there were still signs of the breeding season with cygnets and young great-created grebes. One of the adult grebes has an enormous perch and was being noisily followed by a squeaky chick. The perch eventually went down it’s throat but only after a long struggle.

Now home, the blackberries are already in the jar with the gin, which has turned a lovely dark burgundy…

I’m sad summer is over but I do love the autumn. The cosiness of the darker nights, an occasional log fire, the changing colours of the countryside, the richer and more comforting food, and a slowing down of the pace of nature.

We’ve got a week in the Forest of Dean in October and I’m hoping it will be a time to delve into all that autumn brings.

Before that, as it gets dark this evening, perhaps there might be a tot of what remains of last year’s hedgerow gin before we tuck into that dinner.

Ramsey Island’s grey seals – from serenity to chaos as the tide comes in

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A visit to the RSPB’s Ramsey Island reserve at this time of year has to include watching the Atlantic grey seals. September is the prime time for pupping and Ramsey has around 600-700 pups born on its beaches every summer and autumn. Given an afternoon off from my volunteering tasks this week, I spent a few hours sitting above the largest of the pupping beaches, Aber Mawr, taking in all the activity unfolding below me.

The tide was just turning to come back in as I sat down and made myself comfortable. At low tide, and this was a particularly low one, the retreating sea reveals areas of sand, which are in contrast to the shingle beneath the cliffs that give way to boulder-fields slightly further out. All was serene on the beach. The female seals were lying out in groups sleeping in the warm sunshine. Others were nursing their pups or bobbing around in the water. The pups slept too, mostly on the shingle or in amongst the boulders. They occasionally let out short cry but otherwise there was little sound, save for a chattering flock of chough passing overhead. There were adjustments on the sand as the water slowly started to make its way in. The females shuffled every so often as the water encroached on their patch, but overall there was very little going on.

However, as the tide rose and hit the boulder field, all hell broke loose. The pups that has been sleeping in amongst the boulders were thrust forward by the waves, washed through the gaps and into pools. They were completely as the mercy of the water. As one wave retreated they would try to scramble to a safer spot but their weak flippers could give them little support on the slippery rocks. When another wave came they were tumbled around again and at times dragged back out into the deeper water as the waves withdrew. Some of the mothers were there to support their pups but could be seen attacking the pups of others if they got too close; those pups running a gauntlet of both sea and seals. As the water forced the seals closer together, fights broke out amongst the mothers, protecting their patch on the beach. The air was now filled with the calls of distressed pups and the racing and crashing of the waves, the serenity of earlier, now shattered by the advancing tide.

I returned to the spot later on into the evening and the tide had now left only a narrow band of shingle between the waves and the cliffs. The pups were pressed tight against the cliffs’ stone walls or were still fighting in the surf, struggling to stay on the shore at the thinest parts of the beach. The scene continued into the darkness with the cries of pups rising up the cliffs and following me and as made my way back to the comfort of the Bungalow.

I’ve written before about the seals of Ramsey Island (here and here) – I’d almost forgotten and nearly wrote similar posts again.

Sweden: Summer wildlife

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As spring turned to summer, our trip to Sweden in the second half of June once again revealed the richness of the country’s wildlife. Our stay in a summer house in the Swedish countryside enabled us to wander locally and further afield in search of birds, mammals and insects in a variety of landscapes.

The summerhouse is located about a third of the way up the country and around 125km north-west of Stockholm. It lies in an area where southern Sweden transitions into the north, a region of forest, lakes, meadows and bogs.

As always, the gardens and forest around the summerhouse provided a lot of wildlife watching. The warblers were a constant throughout our stay with willow warbler perhaps the backing soundtrack to each day. However, the other warblers were also prominent with blackcap, garden warbler and chiffchaff frequently heard. During the trip we also saw common and lesser whitethroat on our travels.

The area around the summerhouse is also good for a range of small birds including tits (blue, great, coal, willow and, my favourite, crested), nuthatch, treecreeper, house sparrow and tree sparrow and quite a few finches including chaffinch, greenfinch, bullfinch, goldfinch and siskin (in the image below). The garden also had frequent visits from both pied and spotted flycatcher as well as the occasional roding woodcock.

Mälaren, the great water body of interlinked navigable lakes that reaches inland from Stockholm, is about 55km south of where we stay and there are two lovely nature reserves reaching inland from the shoreline, one either side of the large town of Västeras. We visited both Asköviken, to the west, and Ängsö, to the east, for the first time. Both reserves have reedbed and grass marshland against the coast with old oak woodland behind. Oaks are not typical of what we might imagine Scandinavian woodland to be. However, in Southern Sweden, oaks in mixed woodland can be found in many places, and I’ve been to a few.

Both visits to the nature reserves provided rich pickings for birdwatchers, with Asköviken particularly memorable. Walking out to the bird tower on the water’s edge we came across tree pipit and red-backed shrike, and as we approached the tower heard a call somewhat like a parrot but it turned out to be my first ever icterine warbler. Normally, these birds are very hard to see and it seemed this one would live up to that reputation, however, once we were at the top of the tower, it flew into the top of a nearby tree where is stayed and called for quite a while (picked out in the image below).

The bird tower gave us views out into Mälaren over the shallows and small, low islands. There were plenty of greylag geese and a few different ducks. The only waders we saw immediately were lapwings but after a while we saw two summer plumage spotted redshanks in the distance. Even further out, we saw the unmistakable silhouettes of two white-tailed eagles. They were both hunting and eventually dived down to an island and didn’t reappear. On the way back, I had another first as we walked through the woodland. A bird flew up from the ground and into a track-side tree. At first, I thought it was a thrush but looking again it turned out to be a wryneck, and a pretty grainy photo (below) confirmed it.

Amongst other woodpeckers we saw during the trip we green and great-spotted, and we heard a black woodpecker. We also saw a lesser-spotted woodpecker at Ängsö, the first I’ve seen since a winter trip to Poland in 2018.

One of my favourite places to visit within an easy distance of where we stay, is Färnebofjärden National Park and we took another couple of trips up there for to look for wildlife. We had intended to go to grill sausages at one of the riverside fireplaces but the lack of rain over the preceding months had led to tinder-dry conditions and a fire ban. However, we went anyway and we’re rewarded with a short view of a goshawk as it disappeared into the forest after crossing the water. On a second visit to the National Park we saw another white-tailed eagle from the bird tower at Skäkersbo as well as crested tots high up in the surrounding trees.

The trip overall was quite good for raptors. On top of the white-tailed eagles and the goshawk, we saw buzzard, kestrel, sparrowhawk, osprey (including three in one view) and hobby. I do usually see marsh harrier and sometimes red kite but not this time.

We also found a new spot to look for wildlife, to the south of the National Park, at Österbo, where there is a 700m boardwalk crossing what is usually a wet water meadow. On our visit there was little sign of water and little wildlife, but I suspect it’s a good location for migration stopovers for wading birds, waterfowl and cranes. We’ll have to go back in spring or autumn to check.

On the way back to the summerhouse, we very fleetingly saw a third and final ‘first’ in the form of a hazel grouse which flew in front of the car and landed on a track as we drove down a fast main road; unfortunately we couldn’t stop.

I’ve said before on my blog that my greatest interest in wildlife is actually in mammals rather than birds. Sweden’s is much richer in it mammalian life than the UK is, showing how our islands once were, a long time ago, and perhaps could be once again (but probably not in my lifetime).

We didn’t have any real standout mammal moments on this trip but we did see a few; albeit some being on our trail cam. We put it the camera out at night, both at the front of the summerhouse and in the forest immediately behind it. We recorded roe deer, red fox, red squirrel and badger but unfortunately, unlike our last stay, we didn’t record a passing European Elk. We also saw brown hare in the area around the summerhouse. As in 2022, we got good views of beaver at the nearby lake, but unlike last year, these weren’t every night and we didn’t get as close views.

There were reptiles too with two types of snake. We saw a grass snake as we swam in the lake at the summerhouse and an adder as we walked along the forest tracks. We sometimes see slow worm in the garden but not this time.

We also spent a little time looking for insects and specifically looked out for one type of butterfly, finding a poplar admiral along a Dalarna forest track. On our first evening at the summerhouse we also saw a swallowtail. We were also pretty amazed by the sheer number of dragonflies and damselflies as we swam in the lake. Mating pairs would be hounded by packs of followers around our heads.

While seeing some birds for the first time is always nice, these weren’t the best wildlife memories of the trip. There were the swifts racing overhead as I swam in the lovely warm lake, there were the haunting calls of the black-throated divers as we relaxed by our waterside tent and, finally, the bugling of cranes echoing around the forest as we sat outside one evening. These were all quite magical moments that you get only from immersion in nature, even just for a few minutes.

All in all, we saw or heard 95 species of bird over two weeks, which I think must be a record for any holiday I’ve had except for guided trips to Africa.