• Brampton winter – gathering flocks

    The frosts of mid to late January have changed the habits of the parish wildlife.  The most marked change being the flocking of the birds. The Woodpigeons gather into gangs, but most noticeable of all are the large flocks of finches. The finch flocks – consisting mainly of Chaffinchs, Greenfinches, Bramblings, Goldfinches and Linnets – gravitate to the fields planted for this very purpose at the south end of the village. The farm’s conservation scheme, ‘Wild Bird Cover’, consists of a special mix of seed-bearing plants, and it is working. On a fine clear Saturday morning I counted 60 in one flock perched atop the hedgerow trees whilst another, half as big, wheeled round above.   A good example of successful farm-based conservation.

    Frosty clear nights echo with the calls of courting foxes. One evening this week a dog fox called as it ran done the village street making all the dogs jump from their slumber.

  • Brampton winter: morning hawk

    Boxing Day morning seemed quiet. The whole village appeared to having a lie-in. On days like these the rest of the parish’s residents – at least the wildlife ones – carry on with business as usual. As I walked past the allotments arrowheads of duck and purposeful pigeons travelled in opposite directions. Finches settled in the tops of the sycamore along the edge of the ‘wild bird food’ crops on the old shoreline. Then, I swear I felt the rush of air as a hawk overtook me on the village street. A male sparrowhawk appeared from over my shoulder, dropped to a few inches above the road surface and flew intent and fast along the lane. Intent, no doubt, upon ambushing a finch.

  • Brampton winter: Fieldfares & Redwings

    The hedgerow berries, such as Hawthorn,  have been bountiful this year. But The winter thrushes, the Redwings and Fieldfares, wait until the sharpest frosts of December have passed before they feed upon them. This morning, the 16th December, was the key date for this year’s feast. Numerous scattered flocks roll and flutter from bush to bush ahead of us as we walk along the old railway line. Their calls, a strange mixed chorus of the Fieldfares’ ‘chock-chook’ calls and their Redwings’ weaker ‘seeep’, surround us during their frenzy of feeding.

    ‘The next week, the Hawthorns are stripped. All but the outermost berries  have been taken.

  • Event: Talk – Coypu, Mink and the Norfolk Mink Project

    Simon Baker, from the Norfolk Mink Project, will be giving a talk at the Burgh Reading Room on Tuesday 9th October at 7.00pm. All are welcome and entry is free. (See http://burghlife.co.uk)

    Mink have been active on the Bure for some time. They have become naturalized on English rivers having originally escaped, or have been let loose from, fur farms many years ago. They are an efficient predator and will kill everything they can catch – fish, birds, mammals such as Water Voles and inverterbrates. If a mix of wildlife is to survive on the Bure, the Mink need to be controlled. This is where the Norfolk Mink Project plays a role.

    Background information: https://thenorfolkminkproject.org.uk

     

     

  • Last sight of the summer falcon

    It was almost the last weekend of the summer – August 25th. The Swifts were long gone and family groups of Swallows were feeding low over long meadow. The next day they had left for the south.

    Just as I walked down the old track from Brampton to Oxnead, I spotted the unmistakeable profile of a falcon just over Keeper’s Wood. Its flight was erratic. Just at treetop height, interspersed with rapid spiraling changes of direction. I had seen this before – a Hobby hunting for dragonflies. With ease and grace it flew west to east along the spine of the wood and back again before disappearing from site towards the Ash Plantation. The whole show lasting no more than a couple of minutes.

    Later that day, whilst walking along the railway line and admiring the sunset, a dragonfly – a Southern Hawker, I think – was diligently hunting midges and other small flying insects. Its flight path formed a triangular pattern, broken only by rapid spiralling changes of direction as it homed in on its prey. The similarity with that of the falcon, the next step up the food chain, was remarkable.

  • Evening falls in the village

    At the end of a hot July day,  we sit outside with glasses in hand. To sit and watch the night fall is a simple pleasure, but one of which we never tire. 

    A Barn Owl which skims the roof and garden trees, is intent on hunting – its call breaks the falling silence. Bats appear. Pipistrelles and, we assume, Long-Eared Bats. Each following a circuit of widening spirals. An ultrasound bat-detector helps us follow their course – their call speeding up as they home-in on an insect.

    The moon, not yet full but waxing and large in the southern sky, sails in solitary splendour over the ash trees which edge the old rail line. Minute by minute stars start to appear. We check their names and constellations. Vega seems to be the first, balanced at the head of Lyra. Then all of sudden, many more follow. Just before ten o’clock a bright spot arcing past the Moon turns out to be the International Space Station on it’s first visible pass of the night.  

    Our attention turns to the satellites, a man-made intrusion in to the natural view, but wonderful for all of that. Their names create their own poetry – SEASAT, ERBS, Integral, Genesis II.

    On a more earthly theme, toads shuffle around the flower pots.

  • Brampton: summer visitors

    Swifts, those short-term summer visitors, from their screaming party over the Brampton rooftops. Eight..ten birds, they move so fast and change acrobatic so quickly that it is hard to keep track. I make a mental note to create some nest boxes for next year’s visit – every roof-improvement, each addition of roof insulation in the cottages serving to remove another traditional nest site. For the village not to host these visitors would be sad indeed.

  • Brampton Summer: the arrival of the Hobby Falcon

    The combination of speed, grace and agility make any glimpse of this
    small falcon an exhilarating one. Hobbys are summer visitors to the
    parish. Every year, when I see one, I tend to get over-excited about it.
    For obvious reasons small birds, their prey species, would not agree. This
    wariness manifests itself in the almost perceptible electric tension in the air as the
    Hobby appears – bird song stops and are replaced by their alarm calls as they
    dive for cover. This morning’s target – a Meadow Pipit on the Common
    – was lucky, quickly diving for cover and safety.

  • Brampton: arrival of Spring 2018

    The churchyard is filling with Snowdrops. Aconites and a few Daffodils. All flowering under a bright, clear sky. The easterly breeze reminds me that we have probably not seen the last of Winter, but Spring cannot be far off.

    On a stag-headed Oak at Brampton Hall a male Great Spotted Woodpecker drums against a hollow branch, each salvo declaring his territorial rights in preparation for the breeding season. Further south, perched high on a favourite Railway embankment Ash tree, a Song Thrush is singing for much of the day. Each short phrase repeated four or five times carries through the cold air. Although in the garden a Scandinavian Brambling forages amongst the Chaffinches to build up reserves for the northern Spring. At night Muntjac Deer wander, hardly noticed, around the village houses and gardens.

     

  • Brampton Spring: Roe buck and doe

    The sight of Roe Deer has become increasingly common in Brampton in recent years (see link to other posts within the Village blog), but they always feel like an encounter with a wilder, slightly separate world. Usually, the sighting it at some distance and commonly it is for a fleeting moment before the deer melt into the safety of woodland. However, the other evening the encounter was closer. It was all the more surprising because, as we walked along with the Whippets, conversation was in full flow – not the whispers and hand signals that so often have to accompany a deer stalk. The wind was in our favour, blowing from the deer to us – otherwise they would have sensed us, a hundred yards further back. But on this occasion it was an eye to eye meeting, as can be appreciated by the resultant photo.

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