Long ago … in a place far, far away … I saw my first Grasshopper Warbler. I had heard them a-plenty but never clapped eyes on one. Elusive little suckers they are; ‘reeling’ from within a bush or bramble and only venturing out in the half-light. They are true denizens of the twilight hours. I didn’t find it myself. It was located by my step daughter. As we stood slightly apart scanning the vegetation the conversation went something like this …
“I can see it!”
“Sssshhh Beckie”
“… It’s here!”
“Will you be quiet, I’m trying to find this warbler”
“… but Carlie … I CAN SEE IT”
I stood behind her … … “Bloody hell she can too!”
I reckon she must have been about seven at the time. Beckie now lives in Australia, and is a parent herself. She reminded me of that conversation just this last week. I can still see the bird in my mind’s eye sat in the reed bed at Blacktoft Sands and I can still see her proud little face staring up at me. She found it!
In a moment of deja vous a couple of days ago at Cley Marshes I came face to face with an atypical Grasshopper Warbler. A Grasshopper Warbler that had not read the books; one that took to perching up and singing in the middle of the day. It cried out to be photographed.
This one is for you Beckie xxX
I just love the subtle flecks and edging to the feathering and the chevrons on the under-tail coverts on these birds. The shades of forest, dark yellows and olives within the plumage are worthy of any artist’s palette.
Letter From Norfolk 