I'll do anything to miss the Eurovision Song Contest but the alternative on Saturday evening was an easy choice - a visit to the RSPB Nene Washes nature reserve with local friend and artist Carry Akroyd.
We almost cried off as the skies were dark and there was rain in the air but as we neared the Washes the rain passed and we stayed dry.
Parking at the Eldernell car park, and walking back towards Peterborough, a corncrake started singing almost immediately from a field with cows (the time was about 2015). That was easy!
We walked some more and heard young herons growling from their tree-top nests, snipe drumming overhead, redshank yelping over the wet fields and yellow wagtails squeaking in the grass fields.
Carry has written and illustrated books about the Northamptonshire poet John Clare who is one of England's greatest poets - and one of the greatest wildlife poets. Clare knew the corncrake - I attach his poem on the land rail at the end of this blog. At the time he wrote, in the early 19th century, corncrakes were found in every county in the UK. Now they are absent from England, Wales and Northern Ireland and only found in the islands to the west and north of the Scottish mainland. Except for the Nene Washes where there is a reintroduction project in place.
This project involves captive-breeding of corncrakes at Whipsnade and then releasing birds at the Nene Washes. It's going quite well - as the singing bird we heard shows - but it's still rather in the balance as to whether it will be a success or not overall!
But it is amazing to think that the sound that John Clare regarded as commonplace ('tis heard in every vale' and 'tis like a fancy everywhere') is now such an unusual and rare sound. It would probably be a bit like future generations finding that kestrels had disappeared from the countryside and were now rare - corncrakes must have been that familiar to many country folk.
As an almost irrelevant side-note - I notice that the Green Party candidate for nearby Huntingdon in the recent General Election, who did pretty well, was one John Clare - and that other Green Party candidates with wildlife-friendly names included Juniper, Goldfinch and Moss. Do their names draw them to the cause?
Corncrake numbers are increasing generally in Scotland thanks to the contributions of RSPB nature reserves on Islay, Coll, and Balranald and the work of large numbers of farmers, crofters and land managers who are giving this secretive bird a lifeline for survival.
Rather surprisingly another species which the RSPB has done a lot to help, a bittern, flew past on our evening walk. I wonder how many people saw corncrake and bittern in the UK yesterday. Was it just us? There is very little overlap in their ranges!
I see there is an evening walk - booking essential - next Thursday evening at the Nene Washes - if you are local why not give it a go?!
As we left, the corncrake sang again. A rare sound in a wonderful place. John Clare might have thought it bizarre and sad that we made a special trip to try to hear what he would have thought such a normal sound.
John Clare's poem - the Landrail
How sweet and pleasant grows the wayThrough summer time againWhile Landrails call from day to dayAmid the grass and grainWe hear it in the weeding timeWhen knee deep waves the cornWe hear it in the summers primeThrough meadows night and mornAnd now I hear it in the grassThat grows as sweet againAnd let a minutes notice passAnd now tis in the grainTis like a fancy everywhereA sort of living doubtWe know tis something but it neerWill blab the secret outIf heard in close or meadow plotsIt flies if we pursueBut follows if we notice notThe close and meadow throughBoys know the note of many a birdIn their birdnesting boundsBut when the landrails noise is heardThey wonder at the soundsThey look in every tuft of grassThats in their rambles metThey peep in every bush they passAnd none the wiser getAnd still they hear the craiking soundAnd still they wonder whyIt surely cant be under groundNor is it in the skyAnd yet tis heard in every valeAn undiscovered songAnd makes a pleasant wonder taleFor all the summer longThe shepherd whistles through his handsAnd starts with many a whoopHis busy dog across the landsIn hopes to fright it upTis still a minutes length or moreTill dogs are off and goneThen sings and louder than beforeBut keeps the secret onYet accident will often meetThe nest within its wayAnd weeders when they weed the wheatDiscover where they layAnd mowers on the meadow leaChance on their noisy guestAnd wonder what the bird can beThat lays without a nestIn simple holes that birds will rakeWhen dusting on the groundThey drop their eggs of curious makeDeep blotched and nearly roundA mystery still to men and boysWho know not where they layAnd guess it but a summer noiseAmong the meadow hay
Analin, Absolutely. Birdwatching should be an enjoyable hobby and not taken too seriously. Support the RSPB and volunteer for the serious bits of protecting birds but enjoy watching them. I am hoping to get to Minsmere next week for the bittern and the purple heron. Now is that starting to get serious; I hope not and I know my wife wouldn't let me anyway.
Isn't birdwatching grand? In this last week I've seen my very first cetti's warbler (I always hear them but they remained elusive) and yesterday we had a family visit to Minsmere and a bittern flew over our heads. We must do all we can to make sure that these wonderful experiences are available to those who come after us.
I've never knowingly seen a corncrake except in captivity so I enjoyed your article. I read in another blog that a scout group didn't realise that the RSPB was about more than birds. I didn't know it was about poetry either but I'm glad it is. What a lovely poem.
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