Hire a bike and explore our Medmerry reserve.

Sounds like you had a wonderful walk and we agree it getting better as it matures. Hope you have many more enjoyable visits.

I visited Medmerry on Tue 16 July, though not by bike. I parked in the Easton Lane car park and walked the path along the western boundary of Medmerry towards the Stilt Pools and the beach. It was a warm and sunny summer’s evening with little breeze.

Medmerry is a landscape in transition. At times it presents an unusual face, like the two lines of dead and whitened trees on the perimeter of Ruth’s Marsh. But a buzzard sat in their branches and in the narrow creek just below them was the slender form of a greenshank: the new and the old together.

The cinder path runs along the top of the embankment, offering views eastward towards the marsh and westward over the surrounding fields. The banks either side of the path were a riot of wild flowers of every colour and form, and are habitat for butterflies, dragonflies and many other invertebrates. Flitting between gorse bushes and fence wires were linnets, whitethroat, goldfinches, greenfinches and a corn bunting. Swallows sliced the air and above them fluttered skylarks, pouring out their song: a joy to hear against the background quiet.

Out on Ruth’s Marsh there were large numbers of black-headed gulls adding their distinctive voices to the scene. And in their midst – something I had been hoping for – were a pair of shelduck.

At Earnley viewpoint, behind the grazing cattle, I got an excellent view of a buzzard on a fence post. It glided with the utmost ease and alighted on the top of an old telegraph pole.

The Stilt Pools were busy with cormorants, mallards, coot, Canada geese, a little egret and the spoonbill which, unfortunately for me, was sleeping and so had his marvellous spoon hidden in his wings.

On Broad Rife, there was a heron, standing sentinel in the white branches of a dead bush.

I then walked the ridge of the shingle spit towards The Breach. The tide was low and still falling with a wide expanse of sand revealed. It yielded a pair of very vocal oystercatchers living up to their Swedish name of ‘beach magpie’. And on the marsh side was a pair of Ringed Plover – always a pleasure to see – investigating their newly formed habitat. I was also delighted by the sight of a male kestrel, using one of the few remaining fence posts as a resting place and look-out. It seemed completely at ease with my presence and let me get a fantastic long and close look.

The beach here is a surreal landscape. The track has been largely washed away and the sea is pushing the single ridge back into the marsh. The remains of sea defences are now standing exposed or are scattered over the shingle. It is a powerful picture of nature removing the hand of man with a slow and steady force.

With the sun setting, I began the march back to Easton Lane, well satisfied with all I had seen. But Medmerry hadn’t finished with me yet. In the wheat field near Earnly Viewpoint I saw two brown objects the size of large birds. Training the binoculars on one of them, I was surprised and delighted to be looking at the antlered head of a buck roe deer, the whole of the rest of his body hidden in the wheat. And to his left was the smoothly curved head of the doe. With their red-brown pelts and black eyes and noses against the ripening wheat, it was a beautiful and peaceful sight.

But that was still not the end. Medmerry had another great surprise for me. Rising up out of low bushes and gliding close over them flew a barn owl. It floated in its silent flight over the field edges and freshwater pools on the eastern side of the embankment before disappearing from view behind Marsh Barn. Wow!

Then there were more roe deer - a doe and two young - exploring the edge of a field to the west of the embankment path.

As I passed the stand of whitened trees again, a green woodpecker cackled at me but remained hidden: “What did you think of all that then?”

I thought Medmerry was wonderful, and is only going to get better.