Spring at Stodmarsh

Approaching the two month mark of lockdown in the UK, the rules have relaxed to allow unlimited exercise providing that social distancing is maintained. Never have I wanted to visit a nature reserve more. This period of lockdown has vastly increased my appreciation for the nature in my back garden, but nothing beats the excitement of travelling in search of nature. And as my trip to Stodmarsh on the 15th of May highlighted, there are so many incredible birds that the majority of us won't find on our feeders.

Stodmarsh is a reserve located in Kent, close to Canterbury. It boosts the largest reed bed in the south-east of the UK, including its sister location Grove Ferry, and supports important populations of marsh harriers and bitterns (the latter being my favourite wetland bird). It provides an extensive range of habitats, from shrubbery and woodland to thick reeds and open water, all with excellent viewing access, making it my all-time favourite place to visit.

The Beauty of Turtles Doves

My dad and I began our day at the Grove Ferry end of the reserve, where there have been reports of half a dozen turtle doves. The last time I saw these marvellous birds was roughly nine years ago, not too far from my childhood home. Since then the migrating population of turtle doves in the UK has dramatically halved, due to habitat loss in their summer residence and awful persecution overseas in the winter. When we heard about the turtle doves at Grove we were ecstatic, not only for the possibility of seeing them, but also in the hope that they might be breeding here. The track into the reserve was decorated with confetti-like mayflower and perfumed with its familiar spring scent. Less than 200 yards down the track, a bird in flight caught my eye. It was smaller than a collared dove, with white tail feathers and a brown back — an unmistakable turtle dove. The bird landed in a bush not far from where we were standing, and after moving back and forth we had the most incredible view. The scene was picturesque; the dove had perched at the very top of blossoming tree against a soft blue sky, which contrasted beautifully with its the mauve breast. The light caught the piebald plumage on the neck perfectly, and the red eye ring was strikingly apparent. The image through my binoculars was like a carefully planned painting, but became even more serene when the turtle dove began purring 'terr-terr'. We viewed the the bird for a delightful 10 minutes before it flew off into the trees.

Nightingales in The Morning

We then followed a narrow grassy track behind the trees, to see if we could find the dove again, but what we found was even better. We were listening to the turtle dove's soft call, when another bird started singing in a nearby tree. Although we never saw it, the song was undeniably that of the nightingale - this was my first ever time hearing one. It was ever more melodious in person than I could have imagined, scaling low and high tones with expertise. When I closed my eyes I could place myself in a piece of Romantic poetry, that of Wordsworth or Clare, with the reeds rustling behind me and a heavenly vocal competition between a nightingale and a turtle dove unfolding in front of me. Bliss! As I looked up, a sparrow hawk circled above us clutching a small rodent in its talons, and unbeknownst to us, would be the first of several spectacles of birds of prey.

Next we came to a viewing point that looked out across a large pool of water. When I was about nine or ten I remember standing at the same viewing point and spotting a garganey, but mispronouncing the name. I was so happy with my identification and the experience pushed me to learn as much as possible, so I could get even more out of my visits to the reserve. My interest in birds was heightened by the freezing winters of '08, '09' and '10, making my first years of serious birding solidified by incredible winter migrations, and hot summer migrations. Ten years later and I still feel the same way. On the water we saw at least 7 little egrets which was rather bizarre, and watched a cuckoo fly across and start calling from the top of a bush. My first cuckoo of the year and it was possibly the best view I've had of one, with the tail stereotypically poised upwards and wings hanging low. Although, I couldn't help but feel a little downhearted thinking about the fate of local reed warbler nests.

A Hive of Hobbies and Harriers

After that I drove to Stodmarsh, which at first is a completely different scene to Grove. The carpark was surrounded in dense green foliage and the sky above darted by swifts. The visitors' toilet was closed off due to the yearly nest of bees and the air around us was alive with the electricity of insects. Spring has truly sprung at Stodmarsh. My favourite part about the reserve is the feeling of other-worldliness. You exit the car and walk into dense lush green woodland with a soundtrack of birdsong. Then you come to a stream running parallel to the footpath, frequented by water rail and swimming grass snakes. Finally you exit the greenery and enter a corridor of reeds and wetland, which runs in a six kilometre circuit to Grove Ferry. As we entered the reedbed habitat, the soft woodland birdsong became overpowered by the cry of common turns and swifts. I was amazed to look up and see at least fifteen hobbies circling in the still, warm air above us. The hobbies at Stodmarsh are a spectacle each year due to the large expanse of reeds and thus the perfect home for dragonflies. However, I had never seen this many hobbies in such a concentrated area. My neck hurt from craning, but the quick glimpses of their striped fronts and red trousers made it worth the pain.

We were doing well for birds of prey between the sparrow hawk, hobbies and the numerous marsh harriers, when one bird caught our attention. It gracefully swooped above us with pale underwings and contrasting black tips. As it turned, the sun shone bright on its grey back and a flash of white confirmed that my wishes had come true - my first hen harrier! Up to this point my top three birds to see included the dipper, lesser spotted woodpecker and the hen harrier. I have been on the look out for this bird for years, carefully inspecting every marsh harrier I came across for a white rump or ringed tail. I am so pleased that I finally have the hen harrier on my tick list, and I am already looking forward for my next trip to Stodmarsh to search again.

Sticking with the harriers, as we were walking back to the car we were fortunate to witness the courtship between a pair of marsh harriers. Significantly smaller in size, the male flew above the female with the clear silhouette of a rodent in his talons. With baited breathes we watched him drop the peace offering to the female, who caught it with ease, 50 metres in the air. I've only seen marsh harrier courtship once before, and this time was just as special as the first.

Feeding the Robins

Finally, we walked back through the wooded area and I was glad I had saved the best part of Stodmarsh for last. Stodmarsh is home to an intelligent population of robins with a culture for hand feeding. I always carry a bag of food in my car specifically for the Stodmarsh robins, and before we reached the car park I had the most superb encounter. I stood on a small wooden bridge overlooking the stream and reached my offering of crushed fat ball and seeds over the side. It didn't take long for a robin to respond and a bird fluttered onto my palm. I have been a trainee ringer since I was 14 and had helped the ringers out before that, but I am always amazed by the intricacy and size of birds in the hand. But there is something so special about a bird willingly coming to perch on the hand, and I will never tire of the feeling of tiny claws gently wrapping around my finger. At only 77g, I barely registered the touch of the robin landing on my hand but it fed comfortably, occasionally making eye contact with me for about ten seconds. To my amazement, the robin then flew into the branches beside me and was greeted by the begging calls and flapping wings of a fledgling. I stood very still as the adult robin flew from my hand to its fledging with morsels of fat ball and back - it was using the food from my hand to feed its young, and it was so incredibly special I could have cried. I can't wait to go back!

Overall, after seven weeks of lockdown the trip out birding was much needed and did my mental health the world of good. Any adventure into nature is special and there is always something to appreciated, even if there isn't a lot to see. But when the adventure involves charming turtledoves, the song of a nightingale, influxes of hobbies, a new tick of a hen harrier, courting marsh harriers and hands-on experiences with robin - well that's pretty damn special!