Wildlife
Wildlife
James Lowen
Barely a year ago, I had never seen Tawny Pinion. It was a much-wanted moth. Eventually, I succumbed to temptation and pot-twitched one over a cuppa. That night, I was reminded that twitching is a naughty, naughty thing: I caught my own Tawny Pinion. Until yesterday, those were still the only two TPs I had seen. And yesterday, I caught two at home, along with a brace of Frosted Green. Deeply pleasing.
Yesterday also, a visit from two Dorset friends prompted a wander in coastal north Norfolk. I have been too busy to visit the coast recently, so yesterday was really lovely. We managed to unpick the Night Heron from its shady roost spot, had a brief glimpse of the Long-billed Dowitcher as it flew up in the flock of Black-tailed Godwits, watched a ringtail Hen Harrier coast east, and ample hirundines of three species beat west. Marsh Harriers were interacting over an Avocet-filled scrape, as Little Ringed Plovers danced around their incipient territories. But best of all, we swatched a Spoonbill - its throat vibrantly coloured - soar about the canopy presumably hiding its nest, a series of sticks wedged perpendicular in its unfeasible bill.
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