And yet I shouldn't complain, But be waiting with my arms open wide

The weather forecasts had unanimously predicted amber and red warnings. Given the recent wildly  unpredictable and unbelievable reports, this one definitely seemed like a fait accompli. Whatever the end result it wasn't something to look forward to for many, but it does depends on your outlook and frame of mind.

The easterly facing side of my van had obviously been subject to a mixture of weather scenarios through the night and threw up some bizarre shapes and textures as an abstract layer of ice had formed upon it. The 'Beast from the East' as it had been dubbed had indeed left it's mark. 

Sarah and I had stepped into the sudden winter wonderland that had been thrust upon the British Isles overnight.
It was a strange snowfall. Very dry and dusty leading to snowdrifts piling in corners and making for rubbish looking snowballs too.

It messes with the radar of nature, displacing birds and supplying everything with a wonder of where to find their next meal under a temporary deaf white blanket.
Our brief walk around the block wasn't written in my diary for this Thursday but it was a strange welcome inventory as it necessitated a sort of day off. By chance I was planning to work in the workshop in our garden for this and the subsequent 2 days.
As Sarah and I slipped gingerly down the street, a Meadow Pipit flitted hungrily along the main road, in and out of the garages by the local Bed and Breakfast. Not a place I would usually expect to find them. It was doing all it could to find food in this apocalypse.  

I had expected to find the beach under feet of snow but the conditions being so obscure made it look like a light dusting after the blizzard. It was very icy though, so we walked on the snow covered stony beach rather than the path in hope of staying in the perpendicular.

Lapwing flew overhead, a sign of wildlife thrown off kilter by the instant freeze.
I spotted a lone Dunlin alight on the shore - most unusual along this small stretch of coast.
We made for the local cafe run by Rachel and Ben. Ben comes from Algeria and his cakes and pastries are a must if you happen across Lee on the Solent on your travels. The perfect place to warm up on a wintry day.

As the end of the week and weekend was thrown into disarray due to the weather, I was drawn to walk other areas I hadn't in a while.
Gosport is the next town to us. It sits opposite it's more upmarket Portsmouth cousin and has some interesting lakes and creeks that can throw up some fascinating sights especially in weather such as this.
I had tried Haslar Lake and also Forton Lake that is fed by Portsmouth Harbour as the tide was still reasonably high. There was a mixture of Redshank, Oystercatcher and Brent Geese feeding all along the water. The new aircraft carrier HMS Queen Elizabeth was moored opposite too. It is quite enormous. This was Saturday and by now the snow had all but melted away.
 

 Normally a Sunday being the day of rest would naturally be a time to commune with the natural world, but not for me on this one.
I had worked this Sunday in the workshop. Unheard of in the realm of Smudger's Nature, but needs must. Plus I had taken heed of the weather forecast once more, only for it to let me down once again. The damp Sunday and sunny Monday predicted should have been reversed. I had decided on a day off for the beginning of the working week but although the morning was dry on the Monday , the afternoon was not. All the more galling as Sunday was wall to wall sunshine.

Monday was going to be my day of release. There's nothing better than taking time off in the week. There are less people around which is always a big tick in my box. Plus there is a real feeling of decadence being out and about in the working week.
My destination was Acres Down in the New Forest. I do love this place.
I walked the path to the top of the hill and drank in the glorious view across to Bolderwood Forest.

It was a couple of weeks ago I was here with Chris to try to find that elusive Lesser Spotted Woodpecker. We could hear it then and I could hear it now. Observing was a different matter entirely.

 I heard the distinctive drumming on the tree boughs, but the 'kick kick' call gave it away as Greater Spotted Woodpecker. Still beautiful but not the bird I was after.
Woodpeckers are one of those special ethereal creatures that you don't see much but mark themselves as that little bit more exciting than others. Especially when they drum on a branch. That pneumatic style jack hammer is incredible to observe. I know that they have reinforced skulls but surely they sometimes get a headache ?    

The bottom of the Down is edged by thick woodland. It can be extremely boggy at times so decent footwear is mandatory.
I usually stick to well worn paths but sometimes it's great to go off piste and discover something different.
I did so here and came across some fantastic colours and textures. Some of the ancient Beech trees are quite magnificent. Next to the Oak, it's a favourite of mine.

I peeled myself from the woodland umbrella and walked back up to the top of the Down.
High above me a lark ascended. I know Skylarks are not the Lark of choice around here. Woodlarks - their more rarified cousin - are more prevalent in this neck of the woods. Their song is more truncated than that of the Skylark and not so eloquent, but still a pleasure upon the ears.
It kept aloft and refused a more intimate view. There were others around as luck would have it. One I could hear singing in the distance and another I disturbed from the floor.
I caught up with it a little further along... 

Fabulous camouflage which is a great help for a ground nesting animal plus a lovely tawny plumage when in close up.

Pleased with my aural and visual encounter, I sloped off down into the woods once more.
Still no Lesser Spot but 7 Hawfinch high above in the treetops gave me an unpredicted encounter. That's Nature again, throwing up the unexpected.

I followed my nose. Knowing the lower path from the car park must be due north, I headed roughly in that direction, twisting and turning though the bough and bog strewn maze.

Eventually I reached the main lower path to the car park, where I sat and had lunch and contemplated my next move.

Weston Shore on the eastern side of Southampton Water and about a mile south of the port of Southampton itself, is a great place to park and watch one of the busiest shipping channels in the world.
It's a strange little place. Passing by suburbia you hit the Ria that is The Water. Fed by many rivers with the Test at it's head.
Great views can be had of container and cruise ships, oil tankers, ferries, yachts, cruisers, fishing and rowing boats but weaving around these are what I am really drawn to.
We have evolved stupendously fast around the natural environment while it struggled to keep up.
There are many brilliant species to be seen along this stretch of water. Great Northern, Black and Red Throated Divers, Red Breasted Mergansers, Great Crested Grebes, Eiders, Guillemots, Razorbills and all sorts of Gulls with an occasional rare Long Tailed Duck. They can only be seen here in Autumn and Winter. These sea ducks breed in Northern Europe. They can be seen in numbers along the Eastern Shore of the UK at this time of year however.
The latter of this list bobbed calmly just offshore. I dodged in and out of the van inbetween the showers that were sweeping in a northerly direction up the Water to grab a view through my telescope and a few shots with my camera..   

This is a female. The male has a paler head and, in Summer, grows the tail it has become so famous for. 

The car carrying ships were unloading and loading across the way. In the middle of this shot I saw a Grey Seal bobbing it's head just above the surface. There are a few in this area. Even their rarer cousin, the Harbour or Common Seal, have a presence too. Mainly further east in Chichester Harbour though.
My friend Chris had text me to say a couple of Common Dolphin had been seen just north of my position. I couldn't locate them however.
My first trip to this side of Southampton Water and one I shall return to. Although the sea can seem empty of wildlife, look a little closer, you might find little gems...

Being able to occasionally work from home brings with it a little more scope to nip out for the odd couple of hours.
So it was for the following Wednesday afternoon.
It was bright, mild and just right for reacquainting myself with my local goldmine that is Titchfield Haven Nature Reserve. I hadn't been there in a while.
It was high tide and a very high one at that as I arrived. It won't be too long in the future before the road that borders the reserve is flooded regularly. The nearby beach has had it's sea defences strengthened but you can only build a wall so high...   

The golden reeds of last years crop still gave the impression it was still winter. The lush green new growth was still to show.

Along the harbour, the mix of waders waited for the tide to recede to begin feeding again. Mainly Turnstone but I had hope of Sanderling being around too.

I entered the reserve on the East side first. Someone had thought they had seen a Ruddy Duck there. I'm always sceptical of supposed sightings. This is a 'Stifftail' species of duck that is native to North America and an invasive species in Europe as it was introduced here. So much so, it is hunted to protect the White Headed Duck that was threatened with extinction in Spain and other parts of Europe as it hybridises with them. I'm not a fan of killing a species if it has been introduced by the hand of man but if it upsets the ecological balance to a region and threatens a native species  then sometimes it is necessary.

I entered the Suffern Hide first. The best place to see a Kingfisher and the place of sighting of the Ruddy Duck. Neither were present and as time was ticking before the reserve closed, I walked on to the the Meadow Hide next. The reeds did give a lovely view with the reflection of the sky in the water of the River Meon as is vents into the Solent however. 

All was quiet as I gazed from the 225 degree Meadow Hide. A distant Marsh Harrier gave the roosting inhabitants of the meadow and river something to think about after a while though, putting them into the sky. A few Mediterranean Gull were sprinkled at the back of the field by the 'Frying Pan'. A large lake fed by the Meon River.

I had an hour left so a quick tour of the west side was in order.

Chris had been here a couple of weeks before and I remember well the photo he sent me from the Meon Shore Hide of a virtual desert of wildlife. Nothing stirred then. The difference on this day was in stark contrast. It wasn't at the height it will soon turn out to be in the coming weeks when Black Headed Gulls descend like a plague on this place to breed, but they were giving it a bloody good go.
The noise was palpable and a little exciting at the coming of Spring. I just wish the gulls had a song a little more pleasing to the ears. 

There are three main scrapes on the West side. The South, North and Eleven Acre Mere.
On the South there were six rare Bar Tailed Godwit. Always difficult to differentiate from it's more omnipresent Black Tailed cousin.

Every so often everything was put up in alarm. Sometimes it's warranted, other times it seems they are a little too nervous, or maybe we hadn't noticed a raptor unseen?

Lapwing and Black Tailed Godwit spun around before me as I sat in the middle Pumfrett Hide.

The Black Tailed Godwits alighted in the middle of the Bar Tailed...now the gauntlet was thrown down to spot the difference !

The middle bank opposite the hide separates the north and south scrapes. It's always a great place to see Mediterranean Gulls from early spring using it as a roosting spot.

Such beautiful gulls. Jet black hoods, blood red bill and legs. Much more sturdy thicker set birds than the surrounding Black Headeds'
Time was up. The reserve was closing , so I  stood by the van on the sea wall looking out into the Solent until the sun set.

The Whitelink Ferry ploughed it's way across to Fishbourne on the Isle of Wight. I scanned the sea but it was mostly quiet apart from very distant Eider and Common Scoter ducks.

Back in the harbour, the tide was ebbing. Brown rats mingled with the birds on the shore. They have a wonderful home in the wooden sea wall and use the tide when it's low just like the birds. They have adapted well to their environment.

Swans preened on the exposed shore.

Black Headed Gulls and Turnstones were the most numerous here too.

As I walked back to the van one last time, I diverted for a moment to see if the Sanderling were to be seen on the spit of the harbour...they were. Such enigmatic little waders, plus a lone Ringed Plover roosted with them.

Such a diverse few days I thought as I mooched back to the van along the sea wall. Weather patterns changing animal behaviour, not least our own, even if it meant the shops were bled dry of supplies. We are such a strange race of creatures...

The title of this post is a lyric taken from The song 'It May be Winter Outside, But in my heart it's Spring' by Barry White