An Easter day at Minsmere
Most people spend their Easter surrounded by family and friends. Some like to organise hunts for easter eggs. I personally prefer to spend my Easter out in nature, searching for wildlife. And on Saturday the 8th of April I had an especially memorable day in the wild at one of my favourite birdwatching spots: RSPB Minsmere.
Minsmere is not exactly a local place. It’s about an hour’s drive away from Capel on the East coast of Suffolk. But it’s well worth the journey because Minsmere is nationally and internationally regarded as one of the best nature reserves in the UK. The nearly 1000-hectare area comprises a full spectrum of habitats from wetland to woodland to heathland to sand dunes. More than 200 species of bird pass through the reserve every year on top of thousands of other animals that call it home. It’s so admired for its wildlife that it even hosted Springwatch from 2014 to 2016 and was the scene of red deer traversing reedbeds in Wild Isles.
That Saturday I arrived just a cool, cloudy morning just before midday. I came with my parents and brother, but while they set off together around the reserve, I personally prefer to explore on my own. Not that there’s a risk of anyone getting lost. We’ve all been here so much we know every pathway like the backs of our hands.
The first stop on my route was a small pond just behind the visitor centre. To the left of the pond is a sandy cliff face riddled with holes. They were the entrances of burrows, and their makers were flying high above the pond. Sand martins.
On close-up, sand martins may look duller than their more familiar relatives with a brown plumage as opposed to the striking black and white of house martins or the red bib and metallic blue of swallows, but they’re no less a joy to watch. Every spring these small birds migrate thousands of miles from Sub-Saharan Africa to their breeding grounds here in the UK. They nest in the sheer faces of sand banks and cliffs close to freshwater, so Minsmere is an ideal spot to raise a brood. Several dozen had already arrived back and were showing off their aerial prowess as they circled and darted through the sky.
Past the pond and through the woods, the path leads onto the edge of the scrape, the vast man-made lagoons at the heart of the reserve. In the Second World War, the land here was flooded as a defence against a Nazi invasion. But this inadvertently created an ideal habitat for all kinds of water birds. After the war, in 1947, the RSPB took over the site and have managed it ever since for the benefit of the birds.
One bird in particular illustrates the importance of the scrape. The avocet. After dying out in the UK in the 19th century, the first breeding pair in a century returned at Minsmere in 1947. Since then, they’ve spread throughout the coast of Eastern and Southern England. They’re such a conservation success that one even adorns the logo of the RSPB.
That Saturday, there were a few avocets on the scrape, unmistakable with their black and white plumage and upturned beak. They were one of several species hanging around the water. Other wading birds included redshanks, lapwings and oystercatchers. Ducks are also a common sight, from classic mallards to more unusual shovelers with oversized bills. All putting up with the cries of countless gulls.
But on this day, the water birds were not the main attraction at the scrape. As I approached one hide, I came across a crowd of people scouring the bushes outside, binoculars and cameras at the ready. Years of experience will tell you this means a very rare bird is nearby.
It didn’t take long to see what they were fussing about. A firecrest, a species I had never seen before. Picture a goldcrest but with a brighter, fiery orange crest and black and white stripes across the face. And it’s just as tiny as a goldcrest; both hold the record for the UK’s smallest bird. It’s also extremely scarce, just a handful of firecrests breed in the Southeast of England and you stand only a slightly better chance of seeing one as more arrive from across the North Sea in winter.
This was an especially good year for firecrests at Minsmere. Several had been spotted on and off throughout the winter. But this individual was very skittish, constantly hopping through the bushes and made taking a good photo really frustrating. But it was a privilege to watch, nonetheless.
Birds are far from the only animals to be found at Minsmere. By early afternoon I’d made it onto the sand dunes running down the coast on the edge of the reserve. After finishing my lunch, a helpful woman pointed out an exciting discovery for me. In a small clearing in between the gorse bushes and brambles, an adder was basking in the emerging sunlight. I’d seen adders here before, but I never knew they came this close to the sea.
Then, another adder. Over the next 15 minutes, the two snakes slowly and gently caressed and curled up against each others bodies. Maybe they were sharing heat as both were warming up in the Sun. Or maybe this was a male and female in the first stages of courtship.
Adders are just one of 6 native species of reptile in the UK, all of which are extremely hard to find. Watching a pair sharing an intimate moment was a true treat.
But even that wasn’t the best find of the day. After making my way back from the coast and a brief catch up with my family, the path lead me back to the woods and, from there, the hides overlooking the reedbeds. East Anglia has by far the biggest reedbeds left in the UK, seas of golden-brown that are home to creatures who prefer to be heard and not seen.
Of these reedbed residents, one is more elusive and sought after than any other. The bittern. Minsmere is one of the best places in the UK to find them. Throughout spring, their booming calls echo across the reserve. Yet for all the years I’ve come here, I’ve only seen a bittern on a handful of occasions and only on a fraction of those did I get a really close view.
The best chance of seeing a bittern is at the Island Mere hide, a wooden building perched on the edge of a lake surrounded by reeds. But even then, these birds are so rare you have to be extremely lucky to even catch a glimpse. Fortunately for me I was in the right place at the right time.
I arrived at Island Mere in late afternoon, the sunlight glinting off the water’s surface. I was showing some other birdwatchers my photos (they were curious about the firecrest from earlier) when someone called out. Bittern! There, standing on the edge of the reeds, a small heron-like body covered golden-brown feathers mixed with black spots and stripes for camouflage, long neck craning towards the sky, trying to mimic the reeds behind. This was one of the best views of a bittern I’ve ever had, and definitely my best photos of one.
The bittern stood almost motionless for nearly a minute. It’s how it hides so easily among the reeds, standing completely still and letting its mottled plumage blend in. Afterwards, it took off, flying low over the water and landing in a thick patch of reeds on the other side of the hide.
But that wasn’t the last memorable encounter that day. Immediately after the bittern left, a pair of great crested grebes on the water started getting everyone’s attention. They were performing a courtship dance right in front of us, both male and female mirroring their partner’s every move from head shakes to preening. It’s their own way of strengthening their bond and assessing each other’s fitness as a potential parent.
Dancing grebes were the cherry to my day’s remarkable wildlife cake. In all my years coming to Minsmere, few days can top this for the sheer variety of encounters that will stay with me forever. From elusive residents to even rarer migrants and extraordinary behaviours, this day had it all. It’s just another reminder of why I love Minsmere and, more importantly, why I love wildlife so much.