walkingphotographer

We overshot our approach the first time round. That’s because we were all caught transfixed at the crumbling farmhouse next door. The four of us, wide eyed, heads apprehensively turning in unison. Relief and excitement sprang as the actual house we were staying in (intact, roofed and rather impressive) came into view second time round!  

Arriving in Norfolk for the first of two spectacular 70th birthdays this year, this famed county was very much a feature of my childhood with many a holiday and weekend break here. It’s been an age, maybe several ages since then and while time has eroded, obscured and clotted many of those memories, I still remember with great clarity seeing my first spoonbill on a formative family walk over Cley Marshes. I was tempted to describe the experience with the term “boyish” excitement, but the truth is that the thrill of experiencing wildlife in the natural world has only grown as I’ve aged and my reactions all the more ridiculous (just ask the family). And so the excitement and anticipation of returning to a county celebrated for its conservation work was almost too much to contain. 

Visiting the Holkham Estate was incredible, the spoonbills I’d encountered as a rarity in my childhood seemed almost common, as did the three species of egret (little, great white and cattle) flying overhead, often disturbed by marsh harriers delicately dancing over the reserve. I could have sat in the dunes watching the little terns all day and I hope not too long passes before my next visit. 

It was however the wildlife in the immediate grounds of where we were staying that captured my imagination the most. An army of brown hares weaving through poppy fields the buzzards, red kites and marsh harriers patrolling and scanning from above. The ruins of the farmhouse and stables next door presenting a natural treasure trove. There is often a lot expressed over the habitat and wildlife during the conservation battles over greenfield sites, but maybe not enough is shared on the host of wildlife that thrives in abandoned brownfield areas like this. A family of barn owls, little owls and kestrels all within the same ground, creating something like a triangle of danger for all lived and/or ventured nearby. 

Waking up every morning to the sound of house martins investigating the bedroom windows though will always be the cement that holds all the wonderful memories of this wild 70th birthday in Norfolk…