Snettisham Spectacular

It’s another early start - 6.00am to catch the ‘’Whirling Waders’ at Snettisham. My hopes for brighter weather seem doomed by the cloudy pre-sunrise skies, but things may change. My prediction that Monday would  be quieter than Sunday also seems misplaced as we arrive at the turning for the RSPB Snettisham in a queue of cars, all told to continue to the beach car park as the reserve’s spaces are full. 

I leave G trying to sort out payment for the carpark - cash or card are equally useless and he has to download an app. I join the throng making their way along the sea wall on a walk that seems endless in the strong wind, but eventually I stake our place just outside the packed viewing area ahead. I want to remain fairly obvious for when G arrives with chairs and refreshments - I’ve managed my camera bag and tripod - and even this area becomes more packed with people. 

The tide is still a fair way out, and stripes of roosting birds stretch along the mud flats. Oyster catchers seem to be slowly marching forward in unison, presumably to get away from the encroaching water, and in the distance small groups of geese begun to fly noisily across the sea. Distant murmurations of small birds - possibly knots - rise on the horizon, precursors of the main event.  

Eventually, along the shore to the south, vast numbers of birds rise up into the air - mostly knots, but with other waders such as oyster catchers. At its most intense, they seem to form a flying mass, impenetrable, each individual bird indistinguishable from the next, only at the edges of the avian cloud do individual birds peel off and fly freely for a brief moment before rejoining the throng. 

At other times, the throng is less intense, with individual birds wheeling away from the others, standing out from the mass. Even though the murmurations don’t fly over our heads, the sound of thousands of flapping wings is unmistakable. 

We watch as one wave follows another, thinking it is over only to find the whole thing starts again. Eventually, the show is all but over, and just a few straggles - probably actually several hundred - are left to bring things to a close. The human masses now start moving but without the grace and spectacle we have all just witnessed. 

Later, we all go to Sandringham, though the house and gardens are not open, and enjoy a light lunch in the restaurant before a woodland walk. 

I must admit I’m shattered having walked some 18,000 steps - something I could never have done before my back operation.  And finding time for blipping is quite hard on a family holiday like this. Today is even worse as I’ve taken so many photographs and deciding what to blip is so difficult.  In the end, I’ve gone for a mass slightly abstract view of the knots, with a few other perspectives in extras. 

Thanks so much for your kind response to yesterday’s marsh sunrise shots!