Brampton, Norfolk

  • An arctic walk

    Temperatures  plunged to -14 C last night – fine snow fell which was more reminiscent of Arctic Circle snow than the normal wet stuff that we usually receive.

    It is still below -10 C as we take the dogs out. During the morning walk we  put up many as well Snipe as their larger cousins, Woodcock. The arrival or “fall” of Woodcock in Winter usually coincides with tougher weather conditions – presumably they are driven across the North sea from Scandinavia or Holland. A few remain in the UK for the Summer, but three or four flying out of the copse in Brampton is really only a Winter event. Snipe are here in dozens if not more and there peculiar croaky alarm call is the only sound over the Common.

    The fox has left his familiar trail and diversions and the sign of a visit to the river for a quick drink are apparent.  We look for signs of Otter with no result. A Weasel has left a visible trail in the more rabbit areas of the railway line. Hungry Redwings and Bullfinches have abandoned their shy behaviour and now concentrate on their search for food. The apples which remain on a tree in the cutting are as hard as billiard balls – we pick a few and leave them on the ground in the hope that the Thrushes can get at them when they thaw.

  • Snow fox

    Snow adds the extra dimension of tracking to the wildlife watcher’s armoury. Brampton is well served with linear routes – the railway line and the river , for example. It is often only the addition of a blank covering of snow that the daily routine of wild creatures becomes evident. In the garden, the thorough meanderings of the hens can be clearly seen. There are very few corners of the garden that go unvisited during the day.

    Outside the garden, the routes of the fox are clear. Along the river these are complete with minor detours, pauses and circuits. Scent markings are visible and for once we can see what sets the dogs off in a frenzy of hunting. It is usually not until the clear frozen nights in January that the fox’s calls add to the silent evidence of the regular route. That is, unless you confine your experience on the fox to television dramas – on the TV the Vixen’s screams can be heard at any time of the year, in Brampton they are silent until the depths of Winter.

  • A caracute and a virgate

    The Domesday Book, that written record of the Norman Yoke, states that the ploughable land in Brampton extended to a ‘caracute’ and 30 acres (a ‘virgate’). This is a total area of 150 acres or thereabouts.

    A check of the maps shows that this area coincides with the area occupied by the fields around Brampton Hall and St Peter’s Church and those which lie further south towards Street Farm. This could include the Church Field, Seven Acres, Kiln Field, Hill Field, Winter Letts, Topletts and the Town Field. This needs to be verified by Mr Pope.

    Additional information form the Domesday Book specifies that this was tended by 25 peasants with a total of that the 3 teams of Oxen (or 24 beasts as each team was said to be of eight oxen).

  • The Town Field in November

    The 26 acre field behind the cottage, known as the Town Field, has taken on a distinctly tawny hue. The colour a combination of the natural decay of the barley stubble remaining from August’s harvest and an autumn application of herbicide. The field is by no means barren.

    The Town field was presumably the main Open Field for the village. A Tithe map of 1837, which seem to record the tidying up of some ancient areas of strip cultivation, shows four distinct hedged enclosures. This same map shows the bisecting route of the new railway in an authoritative Victorian pencil stroke.

    Before the railway was built through the middle of the Town Field in about 1879, these four fields ran with three more enclosures in a continuous group to the Aylsham / Buxton Road. Mrs Vincent reminded me once that a farm track led from Lower Farm all the way across to the Buxton Road and you can see the route on the old plans.

    Now the embanked railway line alters the lie of the land so radically to make this appear unlikely – but it is true, and what a change must have been felt in the village at that time.

    The field today is more reminiscent of the ancient open field than it was in the 19th and 20th centuries. This morning flocks of a dozen or so Skylarks continue to glean seeds from the field.

  • Late November

    Winter appears to be getting a grip in late November. Long periods of rain have pressed the fallen leaves to a pulp. Some trees are valiantly holding on to their foliage, as ever the oaks seem to be the most resilient, but a sharp frost on the night of 16th November trimmed away the final leaves of the vast majority of the other species.

    The Roe deer have retired from grazing the fallow grasses. I assume that they have moved deeper into the woods, but I have had no sight of them for some time. The short days mean that they can probably glean what feed they require under the cover of darkness.

    Redwings and Fieldfares are active in large flocks along the railway line. Their distinctive calls providing a percussive backdrop to a morning walk.

  • Star walk

    The falling temperature and clear night sky highlight the benefit of having a railway footpath through the Parish. An early evening walk was transformed by the superb clarity of the night sky on Sunday evening. The absence of any light from the Moon (the November full moon does not occur for another two weeks) serves to enhance the visual impact of the stars. The old railway line is the best spot to sky -watch from, as it is raised on an embankment for much of its length and this provides an unrivalled view of the heavens.

    The brightest light in the sky at present is the planet Jupiter. The most recognisable constellation is the Great Bear. From this handy reference point we stumbled our way from constellation to constellation around the sky. We soon got the hang of the tour; aided by a star map we jumped from Cassiopeia to Perseus, Taurus and the Pleiades and on to the magnificent square of Pegasus, before the cold started to count as the Whippets shivered and we wandered homeward.

    A late pair of late firework displays at Marsham and Buxton provided extra entertainment on the way home.

  • Saturday morning Magpie

    A single Magpie takes up a sentinel like pose at the top of a Wild Cherry tree. The Cherry tree marks what we assume to be the on the edge of the old Roman shore. Before the Mill owners a and Dutch engineers contained of the Bure in it’s current course, this would have been the edge of marshy ground. The Magpie is surveying the country and from this position it cover a wide sweep of the Bure, grazing marshes, the village and the swell of rising ground towards Limekiln Farm. A rattling call sees it loop off in search of some unknown morsel.

    The Roe Deer are conspicuous by their absence. An hour after dawn and there is no sign. Perhaps the declining feed value of the grass near the Belt Wood has made them concentrate on other sources. The only reports I have are of Muntjac skulking around the sugar beet at Oxnead.

  • November deer

    The Roe group are fit and well – the doe and the two well grown fawns quietly graze on the fallow near the Belt Wood at first light on All Hallows day. The bulkier of the two fawns is clearly a male and this is shown in the way he moves – the youngster has presence.

    Watching deer really extends your knowledge of descriptive terms. These is the case for any creature which is a quarry species such as deer, or are used in hunting as with falconry.

    Their coats or pelage clearly show a dark chocolate strip along the top of their backs grading down to a rich tawny brown along their flanks. The underside of their lower jaw or the gorget is picked out with two white marks.. The white rumps which are very marked and seem to act as the group’s visual signal to each other are, rather depressingly, known as the target.

  • River finches

    Flocks of finches are concentrated around the Alder trees along the Bure.

    Goldfinches and Linnets are constantly on the move and the contact calls form a constant chiming backdrop to a river walk. They exist under an ever- present threat. The attention of the ragged-looking Sparrowhawk is constant. Sitting watchfully at the top a convenient Hawthorn bush, the predator is concentrating on it’s task so completely that it fails to register our approach. Startled, there is the noise of thorn-ripped feathers as the hawk escapes, flies low and fast to the sanctuary of nearby scrub. Meanwhile, the finches flit seemingly unconcerned from tree to tree.

  • Clear morning and a Sparrowhawk – 24th October

    A morning of clarity – the air fresh and the tree lined horizon without a hint of haze to interrupt the colour. The northerly wind of the early morning had seemed to polish the atmosphere. The Bure was relatively quiet, with very little activity along the river. Susan and Sarah appeared in the distance tending a horse a pasture.

    The only bird noise being the circus clown-like honk of Egyptian Geese, a sound which does not fit into the soft mix of a river valley morning.

    A squelching approach to the footbridge over the Mermaid River drew the sudden appearance of a Sparrowhawk. Bursting from a riverside thorn, she carried the deadweight of a recent victim. The unidentifiable lifeless grey bundle held tight and the strain of flight showing in her splayed wind feathers. Not too heavy to fly some distance, disappearing through the Oak trees to the Pightle.

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