Letters from Luke - part 1

 In a new feature, our conservation intern Luke will be writing a regular blog. Here we go with part 1!

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Part 1: On arriving

 My name’s Luke Wilkinson and I’m a conservation intern with the RSPB in eastern England. I like nature, guitars, and a good cup of tea.

Chugging east on the train from Manchester, I had only a vague idea of what would greet me when I disembarked in south Lincolnshire. Remembering that blind expectations conjured during moments of anticipation seem stupid in hindsight, I made a conscious effort to disregard any premonitions and take Boston as I found it.

My knowledge of the town was limited, and restricted to Wikipedia entries that boasted demographic statistics as their main point of interest. Within 5 minutes of meeting my conservation mentor he good-humouredly confirmed that, when adjusted for population, this place had the highest murder rate in the UK. So you’ve come here to die, I thought; at least you’ll be doing what you enjoy when the devil takes you.

But as we drove further into the countryside and the silhouette of the Boston stump shrank away whilst the van swam through the wide brown sea of the winter crop-fields, I realised that the population would not be high enough to justify any sort of statistical analysis where we were headed, for we were headed towards the Wash.

I already knew, of course, that the Wash was internationally classed as an Important Bird Area, and that I would be living on the edge of an RSPB reserve called Frampton Marsh, which was initially set up to provide additional habitat for wading birds that were thriving on the Wash’s salt marshes.

Having never lived near the coast or a significant wetland habitat, I expected to see some waders that had thus far eluded me in the wild. I did not expect, however, the sheer amount of birds that moved before us as we came to a stop in the reserve car park. There were Dunlin, Lapwing, Ringed Plover and Wigeon, amongst other things. I still had my seatbelt on and I was observing some species for the first time.

(Lapwing by Neil Smith)

Since that first encounter, I have had time to explore the reserve’s boundaries and learn about how it functions as a stronghold for nature. In fact, I have learned that the environment is not really “natural” at all, but is actually an incredible feat of engineering.  Over an area that was once arable farmland, a system of irrigation has been ingeniously employed to recreate environments that were once widespread, but are now increasingly scarce, such as wet grasslands. The birds love it of course, because (for some of them) their adaptations were refined during periods when drainage basins were unaltered by human activities and river systems were able to flood naturally as a matter of course.  Some species might do equally well on inter-tidal shores, but the constant flux of shallow water over grassed areas at Frampton provides the best of both worlds for many.

And there are many, many species here, some of which occur in internationally significant numbers. Wading birds appear to be the stars, and indeed the ones that might be considered to benefit the most from such rare and specialised habitat, but the hedgerows also foster a startling array of woodland and garden birds, some of which have now been given “red” status by the RSPB (Yellowhammers and tree sparrows, for example). And then there are the raptors – the favourites of many. This site has some seasoned raptor enthusiasts; there is a local man with an uncanny ability for spotting peregrine falcons, and another with a strong talent for observing harriers as they scour the salt marsh.

Together with its twin reserve at Freiston Shore, today’s Frampton is the realisation of the RSPB’s vision to enhance the long-term prospects of avifauna frequenting the Lincolnshire Wash area. It’s not surprising, but reassuring, to know that the presence of birds is a good indicator of the health of the wider ecosystem. Given the number of birds one can expect to see here on a daily basis, and especially considering the number that are expected to breed here in the coming months, I think it would be safe to say that Frampton Marsh is as fit as a fiddle, and I am looking forward to helping the wardens monitor its pulse.

 Until next time,

Luke