Neither fish nor fowl... oh, hang on a minute....

The meadow's drainage ditches and the occasional flooding of the adjacent river and canal ensure that even in the the shallowest and most transient of pools there is often a very large population of small fish mostly comprising of Rudd and Pike, but a few other species too. Of course all this protein swimming around does not go unnoticed by those that enjoy nothing more than the freshest of fish suppers. Also of course, the sharp eyesight and lightening reactions needed to catch these aquatic snacks are also of use in evading both me and the camera as I endeavour to hide behind a reed stalk.
Grey Herons have been very numerous here until the last couple of years when they mysteriously disappeared. Of course we are surrounded by jealously guarded fisheries... anyway... all of a sudden there seems to have been a bit of an influx and numbers are higher than for some time.

Although at a distance this Grey Heron spots me even as it is landing

It never looks quite comfortable 

and 30 seconds later heads off  for less heavily populated margins

I was so intent on looking out for the Great White Egret that I almost missed this jewel of a bird hovering close in front of me before dropping like a stone to snatch its priced tiny bar of silver. Fortunately it hopped straight onto the nearest bit of "land" to gulp down its meal

I am begining to think this hiding behind the reeds milarkee is actually working rather well

....no it isnt

A brief look "over there" and this electric blue bolt of lightening streaked across to the far side and out of practical sight. A real treat for a minute

Another bird that is quite often seen but very difficult to get close to on the meadows is the Snipe. Nearly every time I see them they are either asleep at the back of a distant pond or exploding from their hideaways a few feet in front of you and zigzagging away at astonishing speed leaving autofocus watching pieces of grass and distant trees. On this bright and blustery day for some reason a handful were actually happy to feed rather closer than the more usual quarter of a mile, this one not actually flying away but just to an adjacent dining area.

All seems at peace in Snipe world and whatever invertebrates they are finding seem to be in good supply

At times, each little "island" seemed to have its own Snipe on it

I'm not sure I'm as invisible as I think I am

I say, can I come aboard?

Repel all boarders!

I guess thats a "no" then. I've never seen Snipe squabble before but this particular individual was pretty aggressive to any other bird invading its personal space

Running away when you have wings is an irrelevant option

Actually it just did a circuit and came back down just a few yards from where it had taken off

Incoming Shoveler, one of several flocks that arrived and landed out of sight

Apart from the Cormorants, I think these were mostly Wigeon

More incoming Shoveler. There is always one show off

Despite the sudden drop in temperature, Common Darter were making the most of the sunshine and plenty of mating wheels were in the air after lunch

The meadows and the Great White Egret

There is nothing quite as exciting as a surprise. When you spend a lot of time watching the wildlife of one place in particular, surprises necessarily get fewer and further between - or so one might think. Every time I stand and watch the comings and goings in the ever changing mosaic of meadows, scrub, floods and reedbeds I cannot help but hope that I will see something there that I have not seen before. Most times, I am not disappointed. It might not be a new species, sometimes its a piece of behaviour, or an unexpected interaction, an aberration, or just the way the light is playing on the water, but on this day, it was a new species for the meadows.
While photographing nicely reflected albeit a little distant Lapwings, I suddenly saw an Egret coming low over the reedbeds and as I don't have great shots of Little Egrets here I flicked the settings quickly and shot a few frames. The problem with just looking down a viewfinder is that size is very difficult to judge and you are just concentrating or panning with the bird and trying to get different points of the wing beat. Then the ageing grey matter starts to kick in, other things register, the feet are black, the wingbeat's elongated, the bill's yellow.... oh goodness!

And then it dropped down back out of sight in the reedbed. This is a very large bird, around the size of a Grey Heron, but dazzling white. I looked for it for hours the next day to no avail but the day after that I caught up with it at a distance and then so did a few other people,

and for all we know, its still there. And thats why I keep going back.


(Thanks to Sandy and Nathalie for helping me make my mind up to resurrect the blog!)