Two hedges and a flock of pie-wipes

The last few days of wandering along our surrounding footpaths and quiet lanes have been pleasingly productive of birds. Some 750 Pink-footed geese flew over me one late afternoon; two ravens were duelling with five red kites, all having been disturbed by the leaf clearing train on the stretch of railway parallel to Long Lane one morning; and perhaps best of all, a pair of whooper swans were occupying a straw-covered field just yesterday. Despite a fusillade of shotgun reports that scattered huge numbers of rooks, jackdaws and pigeons, the swans remained in place, albeit very attentive with upstretched necks (and those necks do stretch a long way).

Attentive and retentive readers of this blog might recall that last time I described watching a kestrel hunting near the once-white, now red gates on the currently inaccurately named Whitegates Road. This time the same road has yielded a flock of at least 100 lapwings, mixed in with a bunch of gulls on the cereal-sown field alongside that productive highway. Mark Cocker, in his magnificent Birds Britannica lists 23 vernacular names for this bird, but apparently there are many more. There’s the prosaic Green plover; the descriptive name derived from its mournful call, peewit; the Shetland name of Tieve’s Nacket, and Norfolk’s Pie-wipe. Its scientific name is Vanellus vanellus. Whatever the name, they’re always a joy to see: modern agricultural practice doesn’t suit them as breeding birds here, but at least they visit us in decent numbers for the winter, so we can at least be glad of that. They’re unlikely to settle on our common, but they can often be spotted (and heard) flying overhead, and I remember seeing a solitary one on the central area a few years ago; I suspect it was unwell, or had fallen out with its flock: too much pee and not enough wit perhaps?

Today, grey and dreary though it was, 18 volunteers turned up at the Common to do some serious cutting back of the willow trees that line the boardwalk between the car park and our storage container. The aim was to knock them back far enough to stop them getting in the way of people walking along the boardwalk, without us having to revisit this particular stretch for at least a couple of years. However, because we’re talking about willows here, that might be a tad ambitious…

It looks as though at least two volunteers emerged from within the willowy tangle, like lost World War Two soldiers left behind in the jungle for decades.

While some wielded saws and loppers, others took control of the results…

… for them to be used to create two dead hedges. This one bears the mark of your correspondent’s contributions…

… It perhaps lacks the charm and artistry of the other hedge, of which its creators were justifiably proud.

This hedge lines what can only be described as a grotto, at the end of which you might expect to find a stoutly built kindly old gentleman in a red dressing gown – but not yet.

Every so often, a loud creaking noise could be heard. The obvious initial thought was that it was a volunteer’s back giving out, but no, it always turned out to be a tree yelling in protest at the removal of one of its intrusive limbs.

One particularly well cleared area was a touch on the boggy side. As the official photographer for the day, I did point out to those working there that it would be an especially good place from a comedy point of view if anyone fell over there. No-one did.

As well as trimming back the overhanging willows, the reeds also lining the boardwalk have a tendency to fall over and block the route, so a crack brush cutter team set out to trim some of those back too. Here they are making final preparations for the fray.

And here’s the result, for walkers to appreciate and enjoy.

We’re often visited by a string (is that the right word?) of Alpacas with their attendants, but not this time. However, a group of about 20 walkers came through, and were very gracious about being held up by a recently felled branch. Not this one, but you get the picture.

Apparently, they were from Norwich, but it wasn’t clear if they had walked all the way.

One of the joys of volunteering here is the group spirit, and there are lots of opportunities for enjoyment. Take for instance the disconnected branch that was prevented from following apple victim Isaac Newton’s gravity thing straight to the centre of the earth by still being attached to its parent tree by the sort of stringy thing that Tarzan would swing around the jungle on. With the branch dangling and swinging there, he who cut it down pretended to throw it to me, your correspondent – but the stringy thing (Honeysuckle perhaps?) only allowed it so far towards me, before grabbing it back to its starting position. My, how we laughed – several times! 

Here is team leader Kevin’s message of thanks:

Hello

To all of the 18 volunteers who turned out this morning in the damp conditions to lop, saw, drag, clear and brush cut, a big thank you. As always, when there is a degree of free rein in attacking and cutting back the trees encroaching the boardwalk, it was tackled with great gusto! This has resulted in the trees being taken well back from the boardwalk and will make walking along there so much nicer. Well done, also, to the brush cutter team for clearing the last of the overhanging reeds from the boardwalk.

We look forward to seeing you in a fortnight’s time when we will be starting on the reed bed.

Regards,

Kevin