Third time in a row, I explored owl country, but decided not to run flat out, and instead explore and take some photographs.
It was worth it.
I love Owl Country. I haven't yet actually seen any owls, but to me there is an inherent excitement about running across ground that had an industrial use in the past; man has given way and nature is re-encroaching. The open, scrubby nature of the area is prime barn owl and short-eared owl territory because of this, and just because I, a not terribly amazing birdwatcher, hasn't seen any doesn't mean they aren't there.
So along paths of broken brick and worn concrete I ran, startling up partridge and chaffinch, and noting how many magpies there seems to be this winter; everywhere you look there is yet another piebald body and long tail riding the winds.
I got round to the Cotham Flash eventually, and with the water level there rather low - has it been drained? - I was able to go running through it. A big raptor was making its way low over the reeds, and initially I thought it was a marsh harrier; its behaviour and flight didn't seem very buzzard like. But, I doubt you'd find a marsh harrier round here in Newark, so I guess it was a buzzard after all.
The big prize occurred when I found myself stuck below the bank and looking for a place to climb out. Virtually under my nose, a bird was flushed out from the thick ground cover.
Barred brown body. Angular head. Long beak. I was looking at my first woodcock.
How nice to see a woodcock in the wild, and not meeting a sticky end at the end of Monica Galetti's cleaver on Masterchef!
It was worth it.
I love Owl Country. I haven't yet actually seen any owls, but to me there is an inherent excitement about running across ground that had an industrial use in the past; man has given way and nature is re-encroaching. The open, scrubby nature of the area is prime barn owl and short-eared owl territory because of this, and just because I, a not terribly amazing birdwatcher, hasn't seen any doesn't mean they aren't there.
So along paths of broken brick and worn concrete I ran, startling up partridge and chaffinch, and noting how many magpies there seems to be this winter; everywhere you look there is yet another piebald body and long tail riding the winds.
I got round to the Cotham Flash eventually, and with the water level there rather low - has it been drained? - I was able to go running through it. A big raptor was making its way low over the reeds, and initially I thought it was a marsh harrier; its behaviour and flight didn't seem very buzzard like. But, I doubt you'd find a marsh harrier round here in Newark, so I guess it was a buzzard after all.
The big prize occurred when I found myself stuck below the bank and looking for a place to climb out. Virtually under my nose, a bird was flushed out from the thick ground cover.
Barred brown body. Angular head. Long beak. I was looking at my first woodcock.
How nice to see a woodcock in the wild, and not meeting a sticky end at the end of Monica Galetti's cleaver on Masterchef!
 |
| Caravan Wasteland |
 |
| Sustrans 64 graffiti |
 |
| Portrait of me |
 |
| A more accurate portrait of me |
 |
| Ineffective roadblock against off-roaders |
 |
| Teasel time |
 |
| Owl country road |
 |
| The road I took |
 |
| The road I didn't take |
 |
| Tarmac path to Cotham flash |
 |
| Waterless flash |
 |
| A big cog |
 |
| No wigeon here today |
 |
| Bull rushes |
 |
| Down in the reeds |
posted from Bloggeroid
No comments:
Post a Comment