Seek, Hide, Reveal

February is here and I'd been given a get out of jail free card on Saturday as Julie was in Bristol attending a soil management for horticulturists day course. The world lay before me. 

I had had this germ of an idea when visiting Shapwick Nature Reserve the previous Sunday. On that day we'd arrived at 7am, an hour before sunrise and were almost immediately rewarded by 2 bitterns calling quite close by. However the temperature had dropped overnight which made sitting for long periods observing wildlife in minus 2 conditions, less than pleasant. I resolved to return when milder conditions allowed, which was sooner than I planned when Saturday 5th February dawned fair of face. My rudimentary plan was to visit all three hides at the Catcott complex, sit for an hour in each and await to observe whatever showed up. 

The Catcott Lows Reserve was the very first area on the Somerset Levels to become a dedicated reserve way back in 1968 after Somerset Wildlife Trust bought it. Over time more land was added and now a larger Catcott Complex is sometimes described as a miniature version of the huge Avalon Marshes area.

Catcott is a mix of seasonally flooded wet grassland, former peat works now flooded, lowland heath, wet carr woodland and a number of droves and rhynes, or ditches. Although it isn't strictly on my doorstep it's a very regular haunt of mine after hearing a grasshopper warbler in the mid 1990's for the one and only time. It was here I headed for a five hour observational day.

Three hides to visit, the well named Bird Hide was my first destination. Accessible along an older drove road the hide itself juts out into the wet grassland, with a long border of woodland just behind it running out to the east. It is one of those hides where if you just popped in for a quick look, not much would happen. I though planned a long haul sit and wait...and it brought dividends. 

Almost immediately I spied a great white egret.  They have been a remarkable success story here, so much so that in the last three or 4 years it has become almost impossible to visit the Avalon Marshes and not see at least one. And to think when I first visited the Somerset Levels in the early 1990's to have seen a great white egret would have been a national event. Likewise the marsh harrier which I'll come to later. I took time to simply observe how the egret foraged. Like many other egrets and herons it made slow deliberate steps along the water's edge. Both feet just in the water, paddling the mud as it crept forwards, much as gulls do on a grassy field, or blackbirds in the garden. The paddling disturbs the mud and encourages invertebrates to come to the surface or disturb prey. What the egret does do I noticed is sway its neck and head a few degrees to the left or right while keeping its body absolutely motionless, presumably to gain a better view of what it is about to pounce on with that formidable dagger like bill. I'll have to watch grey herons anew as I don't think they do this, they remain motionless before they strike. Patience is a virtue for this large member of the heron family as in over 20 minutes only two strikes brought success, first a frog and the other a small fish.

While keeping an eye on the egret, I also looked out for anything else happening. I noticed another great white egret flying to my right way over towards Glastonbury Tor. As soon as it landed, the egret I had been watching flew off towards this newcomer. At first I thought this was a flight and chase off, but the egret I'd been watching flew in a wide arc and then behind the other bird, which then flew up and the pair flew back towards me. Watching these flying in unison was remarkable and something I've not seen before. Possibly a breeding pair within or establishing their area to breed in? Great white egrets only began breeding here in 2012, but last year, 2021, 10 nests were found and over 30 chicks fledged. I think they're here to stay, and provide a wonderful addition to the local fauna.

However while watching the egrets through my binoculars I caught the briefest of glimpses of a marsh harrier being mobbed by a carrion crow way off in the distance. Like the egrets, the arrival (or correctly the return) of marsh harriers to Somerset has been recent and remarkable given the bird was Britain's rarest raptor in the 1970's. These days they are visible with every visit, numbers annually bolstered after regular and successful breeding here every year since 2009. Although the harriers were a very long way off, through my binoculars I could now see there were two harriers and a carrion crow. The lower harrier was flying up high then dropping down with the other harrier flying in circles around the first's flight path. I was watching skydancing. This wasn't the full-on skydancing, not least as the carrion crow wasn't enjoying their presence in its territory and kept disrupting the flight rolls. However this was a form of aerial display practiced by the three harrier species in Britain. Usually marsh harriers are slow level flyers quartering the reedbeds, but time and again the lower bird, the male, flew up high then dropped down to maybe half height before flying up again. Although the higher bird would fly close to the other harrier, at no point did the two birds make contact in the air. A little research afterwards suggested what I had seen was the pre-dancing phase, pre-pair bonding if you will. I spent a good five minutes watching this performance before, presumably fed up with the crow's incessant intervening, the two harriers flew off and out of sight. 

It was back to the egrets then, one of whom had come to the nearside edge of a small island. Casually observing the egret, my eye caught, way over in the distance, a raptor flying along the tree line before perching into a tree. A peregrine. They're very common here, usually seen dashing across the large duck flocks trying to pick off teal or maybe a snipe which are common here. This one though landed in this tree and never moved at all. The woodland edge near the hide was pretty quiet, just a few magpies noisily chasing each other, a female pheasant and a couple of roe deer. I'd been in the hide over an hour, so feeling stiff with the sitting I decided to move off to the Tower Hide and leave the egret to its fishing.

It is about 1 and a half kilometres to the Tower Hide along one of the many droves which crisscross the Complex.  I'd only walked a few minutes when a huge dog fox ambled towards me a fair way off. I only had a short while to watch this very foxy coloured individual ambling along a reed bed without a care in the world before he dropped through a hedge and away. I say he, because of its size. Further on a fox scat was atop a mole hill. Like many mammals their marking is often on a raised or prominent part of a landscape. Given this drove was only a few centimetres above the water table, a mole hill would provide a perfect high point to advertise your presence.

But seeing this made me think about the moles on the reserve. Do they have webbed feet? The only 'high ground' in the Reserve are these droves, which can not be more than 30cm above mean water mark all year, much less in winter, yet there are many molehills. I wonder how many of the tunnels become waterlogged, and how often. I've read that at times of big floods hundreds of drowned moles (and rodents) can be found at the edge of the floodwaters, providing rich pickings for corvids and buzzards. It is a precarious life living underground in a wetland.

 

It isn't too difficult to understand why the Tower Hide is so named.  Approached along a narrow footpath between reeds much taller than me, this high observation hide somewhat startlingly looms out of the landscape. I come to Catcott regularly but rarely come to this hide, the reason being that each time I visit I can find very little to observe. And today it didn't disappoint. Ostensibly I'd come here to have a lunch break, and in the hour I spent here I saw a single carrion crow, a blue tit and heard a little grebe usher its strange high pitched babbling call they make. I did though have my lunch and was joined in the hide by a lovely couple from Cardiff. It was while talking to them a wasp fell out of the roofspace and onto the bench next to me, quite alive.

    

  

This couple had come from Cardiff earlier this morning to spend some time getting to know the Levels. As often happens when sitting in a hide the first conversation tends to be ' Are there any birds to see?' Being honest I said 'absolutely nothing'. Thereafter we spent about half an hour chatting about reserves they visit in south Wales, how they'd never heard of a black redstart, and how they'd be off to North Norfolk in a few weeks to catch the last of the winter flocks there. All this while I had my lunch. That latter conversation brought a pang of envy as it's years since I've birdwatched in Norfolk. Thirty years ago I spent every dawn and dusk during a week's holiday at the Cley reserve trying to (and failing to) hear a bittern. Back then bitterns were really rare and I was desperate to hear one. Now in Somerset between February and June they are a relatively common sound on the spring airwaves. Another remarkable success story alongside the great white egret and marsh harrier.

Eventually this lovely couple decided to head off, and I suggested they maybe wander towards the Lows Hide where a glossy ibis had been resident for weeks. They left and I spent a while longer on my own in the hide. The weather was beginning to change, a breeze picking up which rattled the roof sheets now and again. I could see rain heading towards me and wondered if the change may show an otter before I left. Despite where I was, I felt quite isolated in this high hide, a nice experience. I've heard otters are often seen from this high vantage point, not today, and I have to say while with every visit the bird life is somewhat lacking, the identification guides in the hide are probably a more sure way to add a tick on your birding list.

The walk back took me though Catcott Heath - which was a real change from the emptiness of the Tower Hide. Here on the heath hundreds of small birds flitted to and fro from the bits of wet woodland and scrub. Most were chaffinches and I thought how long it has been since I've seen such a large mixed bird flock moving through a woodland edge, in this case joining the chaffinches mostly long tailed, blue and great tits, plus a number of blackbirds.

Between the Heath and a drove road were these dragonfly beds I'd spotted a few weeks before.  It's the wrong time of the year of course for any dragonflies on the wing, but I made a mental note to return and see what emerges in those long summer days. Today however the wind was beginning to be a nuisance, trees were creaking and swaying, with uncoordinated raindrops being blown my way. Time to get to the final hide on my visit, where I'd parked the car. 

When I had arrived here at 11am, the car park was absolutely crammed with birdwatchers and 4x4 vehicles, I got the last space. At 3pm it was deserted apart from my car, well almost. The lovely couple from Cardiff were walking back to their car. "Seen the glossy ibis?" I said. "Just flown off" said the husband, before bursting into laughter. They'd not see the ibis after 30 minutes so were calling it a day to head back to the Principality. I wished them Bon Voyage and entered the hide. Little did I know what was to follow.

    

   

I like this hide, it's a regular stop for me, and a place where I've seen some remarkable events. Barn owls flying so close they could be touched, a remarkable drop of thousands of swallows covering every available perch like black snow, and of course the grasshopper warbler I heard all those years ago. Oh and the time my friend Rob and I entered the hide which was crammed floor to ceiling with a WI birdwatcher group who offered us wine gums and to sit on our knees to make space.  Mostly though coming here in winter I'd expect to see a lot of wigeon, teal, lapwing, a few pintails and snipe. On this visit I saw all of these although the snipe was really well hidden (bottom right image above). And there's a reason that image is included in this account.

The snipe could be found towards the far left of this view, almost impossible to see but, seeing it made up for the lack of the glossy ibis. I'd been in the hide about half an hour when a family group arrived, two women and a little girl. One lady had come here especially to see the glossy ibis having seen it reported on social media. She looked crestfallen when having asked me 'is the ibis here' I had to reply in the negative, 'certainly not while I've been here'. I added that I'd heard from another birdwatcher earlier in the day that the ibis may have moved to Westhay, a reserve a few miles to the north, but that was just hearsay. The lady, Rachel, resigned herself to not seeing the ibis and the newly arrived trio carried on watching the ducks with the little girl. It's lovely hearing children get so excited seeing 'a duck'  - it doesn't matter what it is. The little girl was very interested, when a fox was seen at the far end of the reserve. I only hope she continues being excited by wildlife as she grows older. Another 15 or 20 minutes had passed and I was beginning to think of calling it a day, it was about a quarter to 4. One last look then, could I get a better view of the snipe. Looking at the same place the snipe had been, another bird appeared in view, though heavily obscured. I thought to myself, that's not a snipe, it's the glossy ibis.

Calling this out to Rachel, the excitement resonated around the hide, though by now the ibis had disappeared from view. Was I seeing things? No there it was again with the little girl saying  - is it a heron. A master of understated joy. I've seen glossy ibis a few times before but this afternoon I had an unrivalled view for over half an hour just meters from me, allowing time to observe the feeding behaviour of this bird. Unlike the egret, the ibis spent virtually all of its time probing deep down between the stems of grasses and reeds with its long bill. It is a smaller bird than you would imagine, more akin to a little egret in size than a grey heron, but having that long bill and long legs it has different proportions. This individual I'd think is a non breeding adult (maybe a juvenile) with the white mottling on it's head and neck and more sombre colouring. Which is interesting for the next stage of this bird's increasing presence in Britain. The Somerset Levels have become a hot spot for water bird firsts, not least breeding successes with little bittern and night heron. Ibis' are here every winter now and there are currently 3 maybe 4 glossy ibis in Somerset this winter, is that enough to set up a breeding attempt? Since 2014 a few failed attempts have taken place in other parts of Britain, will 2022 be a success for Somerset?

Seeing the glossy ibis was my success during a very enjoyable day at the Catcott Complex. Sitting for hours, watching, waiting and observing brought huge rewards, the large chaffinch flock, the skydancing harrier, the fox, egret feeding behaviour. And with our views of the glossy ibis Rachel was overjoyed to see it with her family in tow. I like that fact. There were just 4 of us in the hide. We weren't packed together like sardines, no huge cameras, no camouflaged birdwatchers bristling with scopes, kit and bleeping rare bird pagers. Just me, two ladies and a little girl. Of course we all watch birds in our own different ways, for me it's meeting nice people and generally spending a long quiet day on my own, simply watching what happens.

I only wish the lovely couple from Cardiff had been with us too to see the ibis. That would have added another dimension to what was a thoroughly wonderful day