Scolt Head

I popped out before breakfast to see the high tide and on my way back, as I dropped off the sea wall, a/the kingfisher whizzed past about a foot or so from my left ear! I’m beginning to wonder if kingfishers are more numerous, or I’m having some lucky chance encounters.

I went back, had some breakfast and then set about stacking the delivery of logs that had come on Christmas Eve.

It was a glorious day and I knew everywhere would be busy with large groups of Boxing Day walkers so I went to Norton. Just as I got there and was pulling my waders on a car was pulling away and I heard it stop and my name being called. By great coincidence, it was Peter and Mel. We had a brief catch up and I was deeply saddened to hear of the death of their son in law. Their daughter was staying over with them and they invited me round after my walk.

I set out across the marsh. It was very muddy and hard going but it was stunning and everything was out, red kite hanging in the sky, marsh harrier sweeping low across the marsh, curlew, lapwing geese galore, and a bunch of other birds I couldn’t identify. I just managed to cross the creek to the island; the channels and sands are constantly changing and I needed my waders. I knew it meant I’d have the island to myself.

I crossed over to the seaward side and there was a chilly wind but decided to go for it and had a quick dip. Once in, the low sun was backlighting the water and waves and a large skein of geese passed overhead. Out, a quick fumbling change, and into the dunes for a hot drink and mince pie before making my way back again. As I crossed the fields the sun was so low it was hard to see but the backlight caught the reeds on either side of the path making a rather magical golden avenue.

As I drove off a barn owl swooped onto a nearby post and took off again across the fields with the perfect Barnham backdrop of Norton church.

I called in at Peter and Mel’s to see Julie. That rawness of grief … so palpable. We had a good catch up and reminisced the old Boxing Day walks that used to be the ritual, out to the island, in all weathers, and they never let me forget the time I dragged us all back across the Nod and the long difficult marsh walk back to mum and dad’s for tea!

Then it was back to M&R’s who were home from their family visit down south and I cooked the haddock dish I’d prepared.
Knackered now.