The single spike of Lesser Butterfly Orchid in the whole of Norfolk was in flower the other day. Or at least I don’t know of any others. It looked particularly lonely amid the Southern Marsh, Fragrant Orchids and the odd Marsh Helleborine. Lonely but beautiful.
The wind was quite strong and on looking at the Sand Martins over the cliff they were hanging in the air. Well … hanging as much as Sand Martins do. I thought they would make an ideal subject for a bit of flight photography. One of the advantages we have here in Norfolk that as we look out to sea the sun is always over our shoulder. Not only ideal for sea watching but also great for photographers.
He knew I was there. Ears swept back; eyes bulging. Probably our most enigmatic animal, the Hare. He was sat low, crouched, waiting for me to go, which I duly did so he could continue feeding.
It’s always worthwhile searching through a flock of Brent Geese; you never know what you might find. This Pale bellied was mixing with it’s dark bellied cousins on the north coast last week.
An early morning tour the other day and the light was good. I thought this Little Egret and reflection we saw looked quite cool!
I could have waited. In the end I decided to be more proactive.
The White tailed Eagle was reported to be shingle hopping east at Cley having been seen last night at Wareham. This morning it tried to re-orientate in the mist. I first saw it from the coast road over Beeston Bump stirring up a lively kettle of gulls. West Runton seemed to be the place to go. As I pulled into the car park a number of people pointed skyward and my camera went immediately to my eye. No time for settings. I was looking down the throat of a white tailed eagle the exposure would have to do. Marvellous beast.
Is that a tracker on its back or just an odd feather?
We were searching for Shorelark and Snow Bunting the other week when we stumbled upon a late migrant. Among the marram grass in the dunes was this Song Thrush. It sat tight after being discovered and readjusted itself to go a little deeper into hiding when it saw us. We left it well alone to recover from its mammoth journey over the North Sea.
Well the other day I was laid on the beach and yesterday I was wading in the sea. It is December isn’t it?
Having received a telephone call from Ben – for which I am eternally grateful – I made my way down to the beach. Ben had seen an Ocean Sunfish (Mola mola) in the surf but was afraid the rising tide would put it beyond investigation. There was no time to be lost.
Ocean Sunfish are the world’s heaviest fish and are denizens of southern oceans where they eat mainly jellyfish. They don’t often occur around the uk and are rare in the North Sea. These guys are really big fish and it didn’t take me long to find it, perhaps a little further east than where Ben had left it – the wind and tide having played a part in moving it. I’ve seen these creatures of the deep before in the Bay of Biscay and more recently from the aircraft as we were landing on St Marys during our tour to the isles of Scilly in October. I have never seen one quite this close though! Sadly it was freshly dead. Its eyes were still wonderfully deep and blue; an ocean all of their own. I could have dived into them. The whole fish rocked gently in deepening surf and the thought that it wouldn’t be long before the sea reclaimed her daughter brought me back to reality.
It’s always difficult to give an impression of size without something as comparison. Paul had arrived; how convenient! We took off our shoes and socks and waded on in. Moving the fish was like lifting concrete. The texture was that of shark skin, rough and sand like. It was bony and heavy and after what seemed like hours in near freezing water (in fact it was only a few minutes) I was losing the feeling in my feet!
I was reluctant to leave the Sunfish but pain got the better part of valour and I left nature to do with it as she wished. How sad it died.
Letter From Norfolk 