In a show of welcome solidarity, the local birds have declared Spring sprung. A recent walk in the glorious sunshine round the Common earlier in the week was all the more enjoyable due to the live playlist of robin, song thrush, wren, chaffinch, dunnock, goldcrest, great tit, greenfinch, and wonderfully – siskin. That siskin was one of a flock feeding on the alder trees at the bridge over Fox’s Beck, and unusually, they stayed close at hand (they’re usually way up at the tops of the trees). As usual however, I did not have my camera with me, and relatively close though they were, the phone wasn’t going to be up to the job. Fellow volunteer Janet however had been properly equipped when she was there a few days earlier, and she got this shot of an unusually confiding female.
This also
being a time for disputing territory, a large garden adjacent to the Common was
recently the scene of an unprovoked attack on a barn owl by a buzzard. The owl
swiftly left the scene, with the assailant in hot pursuit. Kestrels will often
steal prey from barn owls, but this is going a bit far. Apparently, this
beastly behaviour is fairly common, and there are videos of it on YouTube to
prove it.
The midweek
downpour had its inevitable effect on the giant sponge that is Southrepps
Common. Including your own correspondent, several people discovered the hidden
deep pitfalls, with wellies filled with water thick with liquid mud the
unlovely result. Last night’s below freezing temperature meant that we 14
volunteers were again greeted this morning by the makings of cold hands and
feet. However, the sun was out and warm, so the suffering was so much reduced
that we all felt we "mustn’t grumble".
It really was a lovely morning, which Maggie for one said she could not resist. On arrival at the car park I was struck by the scene, made even better by a singing song thrush, ably accompanied by a robin. In the background you can also hear Grillo hard at work.
It’s not all just turn up and bash away; oh no. Here we see two team leaders assessing the jobs to be done, photographed by another.
Those jobs broke down into the usual clearing away of the cut reeds, and cutting back the scrub which had been encroaching from the edge of the site.
Before the reed can be removed, it must first be cut. Here’s the man responsible: as can be seen, he is showing full respect to the machine, in case it turns on him.
Once cut, the reeds are loaded onto the sheets. This time we were dealing with beautifully light stuff; here’s Ken looking like a proper Norfolk reed cutter.
Then of course the sheet must be moved to the dump site; in this case across treacherously boggy ground.
We must
never forget the winch team: they always know which way to look.
And anyone who can look this good clearly knows which way to look. Don’t you admire the backlighting?
This gentleman
kept us enthralled by his tales of working as a daffodil picker some time
around 1992. He revealed that he was paid £4 for every thousand he picked, and
the most he picked in a day was 28,000! He then moved on to what he was paid
for harvesting tulip bulbs, but eventually we decided we ought to do some more
work of our own.
There was no
singing of note this time, but talk of threading the winch rope through a gap
between two dumped piles led to it being called the Cumberland Gap, and the
erudite amongst us knew that was the title of an American folk song. The words
of it were however sadly (or luckily) unavailable.
Early on, wincher
Dave had rashly mentioned that it didn’t look like we had much to move. In a
moment of self-deprecation, he called himself “tw*t”. Here’s what he saw.
From that dump site the view was exquisitely framed by a tree, or so I was told, so I snapped it (not the tree, the picture of course). Note the morass just where we were working!
In amongst the scrub was a tree decorated with a wretched balloon that had been let loose goodness knows where; why is that encouraged, let alone allowed?
It became useful though, as a coat rack as the sun warmed us up.
The refreshment break came with its usual welcome. It was made all the more pleasurable by the addition of Nina’s splendid apple cake.
After that it was back to sloshing about in the mud and hacking away at the scrub. Here’s a man possessed, or very focussed on the job in hand!
At last, the reed had all been moved, and it was time to clear up. Dragging even an empty sheet across the mud is an arduous task, but one the folding crew were equal to.
And here’s how we left Area D, for wildlife to enjoy for the next four years.
Here’s Team Leader Margaret’s message of thanks:
Hello
all.
I
apologise for the slightly tardy thank you. I, like all of you, had to have a
period of rest and recuperation! What a cutting season we have had, and an
amazing final flourish today. When you can, take a walk and look at the
enormous space you have all cleared and the huge piles that testify to the work
involved. We sincerely thank you all. We are very grateful that we will not be
visiting that area again until 2029! Thanks to Nina for the reviving warm apple
cake, delicious.
In two
weeks’ time we will be holding another working party, at this moment we are not
sure what it will be. As Julie has said George has asked if we would be happy
to dismantle part of the boardwalk for him. Many of you have expressed an
interest so it might be that if that fits with his timetable or possibly School
Common. We will be in touch. Enjoy this beautiful afternoon.
Thank
you.
Margaret
for the team leaders
And in other news,
we have again been honoured by a visit from an otter in Fox’s Beck, Here’s some cracking video footage taken by a camera trap showing it in glorious detail.
