A storm lit Peregrine

Yesterday was a cold day with grey sky's and a northerly wind blowing in frequent icy showers. Also a family day with kids swimming lessons and meals to prepare and supervise. But just after 4.30pm I felt a need to experience a bit of wildness and so I seized the opportunity offered by a gap in the weather for a walk under Hunstanton cliffs. 

When I got down onto the beach the first thing that struck me was the large numbers of slightly flighty Oystercatcher's feeding among the boulders on the tide line, these were noticeably focused on eating bivalves and I saw several with mussels and winkles in their beaks. 

Oystercatcher's Hunstanton Beach

As I watched the Oystercatcher's, Fulmar's like stiff winged crosses, glided effortlessly over the sea and across the face of the cliffs they will soon be nesting on.

Looking north along Hunstanton Cliffs and into the approaching storm

A curtain of rain back lit by the setting sun hung across the Lincolnshire shoreline of The Wash. To my north a slate grey sky gave an electric light to the horizon. And it was cold enough for me to be wearing gloves and swap my baseball cap for a warmer fleece hat.

An insouciant dog walker passed with his hounds which flushed the feeding waders and a small party of Brent Geese, creating for a moment or two a wheeling wind blown confusion of wings and bird calls. Looking up the grey sky to my north seemed closer. 

As the shorebirds settled I stood on a low boulder and picked out the unmistakable cigar shape of a Peregrine coming up from the south and over the sea heading towards me.  In the storm light as it powered its way into the wind effortlessly ahead of the ineffectually mobbing Herring Gulls its body glistened like Mercury.  

Then with the sun below the horizon and the storm upon me came the darkness and accompanying cold sharp rain.

The waters of The Wash and the sky above me were by now similar shades of dark battleship grey, the northerly wind on its own would have been bitterly cold but now this was amplified by the driving ice cold rain that was hitting me in the face. I'd had and savoured my wild moment and now I turned and strode with the wind at my back for home. 

The storm over me, Hunstanton Beach

Muntjac & Shag

Muntjac, Ken Hill Wood

A very quiet week with little time for lunchtime walks and a weekend dominated by children's parties on Saturday and a sick child on Sunday. Having said that I did manage a couple of 20 minute walks around Ken Hill Wood on Thursday and Friday lunchtimes. These walks started with the song of a Mistle Thrush singing from the top of an old Oak in some horse paddocks by the office. The wood's themselves were pretty quiet bird wise but on both occasions I saw the tell tale rear end of a Muntjac disappearing into cover and this one turned to stare at me.

Hunstanton Beach on a 'small' high tide

This afternoon I managed a 90 minute walk under the cliffs and back up Chapel Bank, the shot above was taken at high tide. It was disappointing not to see any waders perhaps they had taken shelter from the strong wind or been flushed by Sunday afternoon walkers.  However a pleasant surprise was a single shag roosting on the cliffs and it's always nice to see the Fulmar's gliding around the cliffs and over the sea in between bouts of chattering away to each other. 

Fulmar, Hunstanton

Shag, Hunstanton Cliffs

Chapel Bank was pleasantly sheltered form the wind but again pretty unexciting with the best birds being a pair of Grey Partridge.

All pictures above taken with my compact camera a Panasonic Lumix TZ30.