2 July
On a plot, I find a stone- curlew chick I ringed four weeks ago. I recognise it by the unique combination of colour rings I put on its legs. I am so delighted, as it is now easily old enough to be able to fly – and is so much safer. Even better, I find one of its parents sitting on two eggs. This chick has fledged early enough for them to go for a second brood. Perfect! All possible because the farmer has kept this plot fallow and clear of weeds since late March – a stone-curlew’s ideal home.
A patch of tall blue viper’s bugloss, at a field edge, is humming with bees. They are joined by several small tortoiseshell butterflies. They all are delighting in the feast of nectar and pollen these wild flowers offer.
6 July
I go to see if a nest has hatched. I catch sight of an adult crouching low. It runs, stops, turns, then runs back. A tiny chick lifts its head to greet its parent. As the two move away, the chick’s legs moves at double the speed of its parent’s in order to keep up, I see a second chick emerge from behind an earth clod and toddle after them. If anyone was looking through a scope at me, they’d see I have the hugest grin across my face...
9 July
I am back at RAF Lakenheath. Scanning the old runway, I almost immediately see a sitting stone-curlew. The bird starts to get up and run. This gives me a chance to see the colour rings on its legs - this bird is the parent of chicks I ringed several weeks ago. That this bird is nesting again means that either its chicks have been predated, in which case it is having a second go, or have fledged, in which case this nest is a second brood – which would be the best news possible.
Image credit: David Mackey at Macks Photography
Further on, I spot a party of stone-curlews. The large pale spot on the cheeks of three of the birds shows they are fledged chicks. Success! From their colour rings I can tell that one of the chicks is indeed the offspring of the nesting bird I found earlier in the day. This means its nest is indeed a second brood. Excellent. Staff at the base have gone to considerable lengths to keep these birds safe from disturbance. I am over the moon that it has resulted in such success.
Around the corner, we find another small party of stone-curlews, one of which is a chick. From its hatching date, I know it should be just ready to fledge. While I watch, Richard, Environmental Officer, gets out of our vehicle and slowly walks towards the birds. To my joy I see the chick open wide its wings, run a few metres and then take to the air. Another fledged.
Done for the day we go back to the Environmental Office. We update their large “stonie breeding” map on their office wall - by moving around and adding paper cut out drawings of mini stone-curlews – and with delight tell the staff how well the birds on base are doing.
10 July In the cold grey of winter, I sat for days in front of a computer delving into Plantlife’s database of records. I wrote my results up into a report on sites in the Brecks where the rarest species of Brecks plants have been found over the years – and where they still flower. Today, in the golden light of late afternoon, I am on my knees paying homage to one of them: the delicate blue spiked speedwell, (Veronica spicata). It is now in flower on a carefully protected edge of field on one of the farms where I monitor for stone-curlews.
Here this species has been carefully preserved by an elderly gentleman who comes each year to carefully cut the grass between these slim plants with scissors, to prevent them getting swamped. Thanks to him, these flowers have survived here until now. Thanks to the farm’s managers, there are now plans to help this small population of spiked speedwell to expand and flourish.
Spiked speedwell:
Image credit: Jo Jones
22 July After several months of searching for well-camouflaged, moving objects that don’t want to be seen – stone-curlews – I treat myself to counting basil thyme on the floor of an old chalk quarry. This is a treat first because, being a plant, basil thyme doesn't move, secondly it wants to be seen – by pollinating insects, if not particularly by me. Thirdly, this is a treat because this species is nationally ‘vulnerable’ where the status ‘vulnerable’ is not an adjective like ‘delicate’, but refers to an assessment based on scientific monitoring that this plant species is ‘facing a high risk of extinction in the wild’ – and I am having the pleasure of seeing it.
Eighteen months ago, this quarry floor was covered with scrub which shaded out the rare flower species wild grape hyacinth, for which this is a key Brecks site. With the approval of the landowner, Plantlife organised the removal of this scrub, instructing the digger drivers to scrape the ground hard, exposing areas of bare chalk. In April, I had the pleasure of seeing grape hyacinth here. As well as improving life for grape hyacinth, removing the scrub has also benefited other plants and - in amongst such beauties as common centaury, fairy flax and mouse ear hawkweed - basil thyme (Cinopodium aconis) is also flourishing. I have counted 491 basil thyme plants so far and am only half-way across the site... a fantastic result. However, I need to get back to finding my ones and twos of stone-curlews so will have to come back later to finish off. For once, it is a pleasure that the task will take much longer to finish than expected.
Basil thyme:
Out on a different farm, potato harvesting is underway, another tractor is out sorting irrigation supplies and I dodge between them looking for a stone-curlew chick. I don’t find it and to console myself I walk back to my pick-up truck along a disused track that is packed from edge to edge with flowers. None are particularly rare; it’s the abundance of them that is such a joy: bird’s-foot-trefoil, (or eggs and bacon), is heaped up against waves of yellow lady’s bedstraw, while the light mauve flowers of the tall field scabious gently dance in the breeze.
Bird’s foot trefoil:
Image credit: Beautiful Cataya, Flickr
Bees are crawling over purple greater knapweed, while small tortoiseshell butterflies feast on the abundance of nectar on offer. Several seven spot ladybirds are in the flower of a wild parsnip, this flower looking rather like cow parsley dipped in mustard. A flock of goldfinches tinkle past, dipping up and down in flight as they go.
Goldfinch:
Image credit: Andy Hay (rspb-images.com)
I remember when I first got excited about wild flowers. My small village primary school had a competition for who could pick the most species of wild flowers. With my (competitive!) parents help, I rushed round hedgerows and road verges. I stuffed a large jam jar full and won. We thought this abundance was forever. Now the very nature of the competition - with the abundance of wild flowers of the time that made it possible - dates me.