Early evening to dusk is a great time to visit the reserve, it does give a completely different perspective to this unique area of the North Kent Marsh, not that it is a noisy place during the day.

Dusk is a good time to hear the Marsh frogs singing their distinctive song, like a deep-throated clearing, and when they vocalise in unison the cacophony is amazing and almost defies description. Seen close-up males inflate a sac on either side of their throat to act as an acoustic aid to  boost their voice, however, beware!  In the shallow, muddy waters where they hope to find a spawning buddy lurks a killer, a dagger-billed, sharp-eyed expert frog catcher with hungry mouths to feed back at the nest a few hundred metres away in the sanctuary, home to a large heronry.

Sitting quietly in Gordons Hide I was able to see two cousins operating in similar waters, the recently colonised Little Egret and our resident Grey heron.

The former dashing hither and thither after surface skitting invertebrates and tiny fish, The latter after bigger fry and to be fair they are at least twice if not more their size, stealth personified, statuesque, stock-still, ready to strike in the blink of an eye skewering a hearty meal for at least a couple of its brood for the time being.

Then as if on cue the Barn Owl appeared quartering the same patch as Thursday on our Nightingale Walk. I sat mesmerised watching its' hunting, hovering, u-turning, double-taking plunging flight along the water margins. Photo-bombing in a ten-second burst this was the best image I could get.

   

Slightly out of focus I know but you get the picture, who could mistake that pale-face and those deep dark eyes.

When I lived in seriously rural France 20 years ago these owls would perch on our roof in our small village and live up to their old name of 'Screech owl' I have to say I have never heard the likes of it in this country let alone on my roof!

As I slowly ambled back to Bromhey Farm car-park a Little owl was on a post looking even littler than the species, I froze and oh so slowly swung my camera to face it and capture an image of this charismatic pocket-rocket, but that was enough for the tiny hunter to think, "I'm off mate!"

To be fair after a few centuries of persecution for doing only what they do best, mating, laying, hatching, raising chicks and fledging them. It is not surprising they have become over that period, wary of us. In a few short  decades, the pointing of a camera and its' click in a handful of  avian generations has not dispelled the illusion that we, as a species are dangerous and so camera or not, it's "See ya!"

Quite a few Cinnabar Moths were flitting around the slowly emerging Ragwort, so I will keep an eye on the very distinctive tiny black and yellow caterpillars.

Today is a Bank Holiday and this week school holidays, so why not take the kids on a free visit to Northward Hill RSPB reserve in High Halstow.

 

 

The North Kent Marshes are a very special area and worth preserving at all cost.