Surfacing, and Surfacing Again, This Year and Every Year Since

The sentence, 'It's been a while' I use too often on my blogs. Probably because it has been as I take time to write them, coupled with downloading the hundreds of photos, whilst life goes on around me. It's not an apology, just a statement of fact. If you bothered to read or remember my last instalment, you'll be au fait with this next one. If not, I hope you find it mildly interesting.

My last two and a half days in Suffolk. I had put time and patience into my psyche and I came away rewarded on this trip. The previous few days had been quite outstanding, could the last two match up?
He I was again, 5am in the Island Mere yet there were the otter spotters in there before me. Do these people ever sleep? That's absolute dedication recording these 'willo the wisp' mustelid characters.

Although still half light, a Bittern flew past us almost immediately. Not a bad start I thought?

The vast expanse of reedbeds  are alive with the chatter of warblers, especially in the morning. In this case either Reed, Sedge or the rare Savis Warblers, the latter kept their distance across the expanse of water. I caught a glimpse of a Reed Warbler gathering nesting material from the fluffy seeded reedmace however.

The Sedge Warbler was more intent in proclaiming it's territory to all who would listen, perched in it's usual tree that juts out above the reeds.

Bearded Tits, one of the must sees of any reedbed system were regular with their electronic 'Pinging' calls. They were setting up territories so a fleeting sight in flight is all you can hope for. This male was the best I would manage all week.

 Male Reed Buntings are common and are much more amenable however. He sat for ages in the early morning warmth. I do believe he was just enjoying the calm weather before the events of the day.

The almost obligatory Mallard ducklings shimmied past. The female would undoubtedly have hatched at least double the number you see before you. Survival of the fittest and luckiest.

Some great views of a Mute Swan in the soft morning light too.

Then wonder of all wonders, a clear shot of the notorious skulking Reed Warbler, bingo !

The vista from the Island Mere hide is unique. Massive open windows with unparalleled views almost 360 degrees. 

Talking of parallel. On the bars that rise out of the water a Cormorant perched, drying itself, the iridescence shone through it's wings in the light.

It clearly wasn't happy with the arriving Common Terns who normally have the perch all to themselves at this time in the morning.

They eventually found space.

Having spent another  three and a half hours milling around the hide with no appearance of the expected Otter I set off for my usual sojourn to the cafe for much needed sustenance.

Not before a quick dip into the Bittern hide that stands towering above the reedbeds to the East of the Island mere hide on the way to the visitor centre.
There were a number of people here. A couple of them were conducting a Bittern count. They weren't having much success but one great sight was that of a Spoonbill flying by and excellent views of a male Marsh Harrier hunting in it's unique way across this beige reed forest.

The last path takes you through the woodland to the visitor centre, I caught a Pheasant mid klaxon call with furious wingbeats... It seems they proclaim their territory in this way. I've caught them doing this frequently.

Having refuelled at the cafe I wandered down to the East hide by the shore of the North sea. A Little Gull fed on the scrapes before me. Difficult to pick out from the Black Headed Gulls but this is more dainty with a clockwork bobbing motion on the surface of the water. A passage migrant that doesn't breed on these shores. It was great to see a summer plumaged bird with it's black hood.

Avocets are a common breeding bird these days. This is a rare example of success in the natural world. Such an exotic looking species too.

Along the southern path the sound of warblers were everywhere. I managed to pick out a Sedge as it chattered in the vegetation.

The two tier south hide was next. Slightly quieter this side but there were still many birds. A few Little Terns, Common and Sandwich Terns plus Redshank too. This male was displaying to the female who looked positively unimpressed and eventually flew off !

Mediterranean Gulls are slowly colonising the UK, their numbers were quite considerable here.

Back along the path a young fledgling Stonechat could be seen waiting for it's parents to feed it who were nearby with food.

By the sluice gates on the corner of the reserve I could hear the chatter of a Swallow. I was so busy looking for it flying above me that I failed to locate it at first, perched on the post not twenty feet from me! Happily it stayed for some close up shots.

My day was drawing to a close. The Bittern hide stood out in the distance as I walked back to the van.

In the blink of an eye I was back at 5am the next day. Not exactly a resting holiday, unless you can manage your body clock to match. I failed miserably the night before. The lure of a chat around the camp fire in the evening with my genial hosts Kevin and Jenni was too good to miss. Just less hours for shut eye but well worth it.
My arrival back in the Island Mere hide at this unearthly hour was greeted by the clearly insomniac Otter Spotters. One day I will arrive there first, I was third that morning !

Mrs Mallard passed by with her young clinging tightly to her breast as usual. They were down to three this morning unless this was a different group. I like to think the latter.

The Bittern sightings persisted as was the theme this year. Maybe a money shot was imminent ?
This one a little distant but another positive nonetheless.

A definite pattern was emerging from my last few days of study of the same area at the same time. The Common Terns always put in an appearance on the parallel bars, the Little Grebe feeding in the shallows, the aforementioned Mallard and the Great Crested Grebe performing their mating rituals on the still water but their full blown service I had yet to witness.

Behind me on Whin Hill where Springwatch once had its broadcasting base, the Red Deer sauntered past.

The Grebes carried on oblivious to the outside world on the lake.

Still not quite connecting completely...

Then all my hopes focused on a muffled shout of excitement from within the hide. Otter !!

Maybe just a dark head breaking the waters surface but only my third view of a wild Otter. My first was a deceased individual on a north Devon lane. My second was here, last year that lasted about 3 seconds. This seemed an eternity in comparison. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute but it was 60 seconds of joy.

Once out of view, I sat thinking it would return surely as it was so close. The expectation lasted for quite a while, naturally without success but the anticipation drives you on.

Not to be outdone, the Bittern from earlier put in another appearance. This time heading straight at me.

Having disappeared into the reeds not far away, I sat in wait and hope it would fly up again.

I'd say about an hour later, it did just that. This time I was ready for it. My camera trained on it's departure I let my shutter finger compress and hold. The camera produces 10 frames per second and I didn't release.

I was so glad I didn't. As I followed this secretive bird it swung left, only to encounter a rising male Marsh Harrier. The meeting of the two took seconds but I was so lucky to be in the right place at the right time and in focus too. The Bittern naturally took offence at a raptor in close proximity and displayed it's displeasure. A moment I will never forget.....

I could have packed my bags right then, got in the van and gone home happy after witnessing such a special moment in time like that and to capture it on film was the icing on the cake. I was made up. Anything else would be a bonus.
I was off to my regular rendezvous with the cafe for a black coffee and veggie sausage bap.
On the way a Muntjac Deer strolled through the woods looking for food.

The rabbits are very easy with human presence. I watched this juvenile reach up on tip toes, pawing at the gorse for it's breakfast.

Right next to the visitor centre and cafe is the Sand Martin nesting cliffs. They number in their hundreds and were setting up their territories. Occasionally they would disappear either to feed or to gather nesting material from the nearby beach.

Another quick dip into the Stone Curlew territory just north of the reserve to see if I could gather any closer shots. I couldn't manage that but I witnessed some aggressive attitude from a rogue pair against a single adult which I reckoned was protecting it's mate and chick that were tucked away well out of sight.

Back to the main reserve at Minsmere and another circuit of the scrapes and reedbeds to see what was about..
There was a storm brewing to the west and slowly heading my way. The dark grey skies contrasted nicely against Dunwich Heath in the distance.

I holed up in the East hide by the shore of the North Sea to ride out the rain. The bright light from behind me gave an eerie feeling against the moody skies in front. Photography wise it was rewarding.
The black and white birds stood out well. The Little Gull was still around and the beautiful Avocet were scattered in numbers across the pools. 

In amongst them the Mallard chicks ran the gauntlet of gulls. If one should stray too far from it's mother it was in danger of serious grief from the Black Headed Gulls nesting all around and even a tasty meal for the Lesser Black Backed Gulls waiting in the wings.

One of the most delicate of gulls is the Kittewake, this one seemed nonplussed about the hubbub around it.

Avocet again. How could I resist one of my fvourite birds ?

Greylag geese were keeping a close eye their young.

The Barnacle Geese just posed and looked attractive.

Shelduck were the ultimate contrast kings

This male wanted everyone to worship at his altar.

 The Kittewakes kept on showing so well

I attempted to capture the Sand Martins hunting insects over the water with dubious results.

The week had been full of surprises and the unexpected. Always something different to see and witnessing moments and behaviour very few, if anyone else had seen over the last few days. Some intimate moments only seen by me.

My last day in Suffolk dawned with an inspiring sunrise as I rolled into the gravel car park of Minsmere around 5.15 am. As per usual, there were a couple of cars and an odd campervan either there from the day before or people that had arrived before me that morning. Naturalists are by definition early risers. As for myself, as my teacher always commented 'Could do better'

 I had arrived for the last time in the Island Mere hide. The Otter Spotters were there as usual, well just the one this time, so I settled for second place this morning. Pole position next time....

I was more fascinated by the sunrise to be honest. It changed by the second. Like the sunset, It's the most obvious times of the day to witness the movement of the Earth around sun and boy it does seem to move so quickly, whereas the day can seem to drag at times. These are times for reflection.

 Each shot painted a different picture.

 The glow in front of the early sun against the mere and reeds was warm and calming.

 That was it for a while, the sun hid behind the shroud, casting a gloom which would last until lunchtime.

In between the Great Crested Grebe's usual foreplay on the water, a duck landed right in front of the hide. Well a drake to be more precise. No ordinary drake either. This was a Garganey which is quite a rare thing although on my escapades through Suffolk they have been quite apparent, but only in single numbers. The male has the most striking plumage which although being a little distant is still quite noticeable. 

It flew off within a minute or so.
My attention was drawn to the grebes' once again. Hopes of witnessing their extraordinary full mating ritual boar fruit. Again at distance but what a sight. Both dived for pond weed to offer as presents, then performed their head flicking water dance in perfect synchronicity. This is a must see in Spring.

This was turning out to be one hell of a last day. What more could I ask for..?

An otter would do just fine I thought...

The call of an Otter sighting is quite muted in the hide. It's not  massive shout as you would imagine, more a muted 'yep'. Once tuned in to the Otter Spotter language, matters bore fruit....

And not one but two.
When I thought of packing my bags after the 'Bittern Incident' I was so glad I had stayed. Everything was indeed a bonus, and so much more.

Thinking that was that on the Mustelid front, I focused on one of the many Reed Warblers around, this one gathering nesting material from the reedmace that pepper the beds again.

The cry of Otter went up again in the hide almost immediately. I swung my lens around to capture another individual as it glided into the vegetation and out of sight for good..

The rigmarole of early shift, coupled with cafe to follow- well - followed as usual, as of the previous mornings cycles. Black coffee and veggie sausage bap had been a boost without doubt. I was going to miss this routine.

Talking of cyclical . My last orbit of the reserve beckoned.

The onomatopoeic call of the Cuckoo had been the soundtrack to my time in Suffolk over the past week. Coupled with the routine of early rising and witnessing nature at an hour I am unused to, this was a unique experience in familiar surroundings. Every day brings with it different interpretations.
The bird in question was as difficult to find as always. If not out on a limb, then buried deep in the foliage. Only it's call giving a vague area of proximity. Trust me when I say the male is at the centre of this picture...

He broke cover to give me a chance ..

My time here was drawing to an end. The right turn along the North Sea shore portrayed a view of contrasts. Sizewell B nuclear power station brooding ominously on the horizon doesn't sit comfortably with me. It's natural cousin Dunwhich Heath to the North felt much more pleasing on the eye and soul.

My last dip into the hides cemented my love of this place.

My route from the car park led me past the Stone Curlew breeding area. I could't turn up one last chance to find these camouflaged quirks of nature. I might not get the chance too soon.

My eye was in, I had found them. After 4 days, you get the gist.
A perfect note to end on and give me something to digest over the next five hours on the road home. Not just this scene but everything that had gone before. Great times.

The title of this post is a line taken from the poem ' The Otter' by Seamus Heaney
https://genius.com/Seamus-heaney-the-otter-annotated