It's funny that after over 30 years of marriage, you can still find new things to fall out about...
However, somehow I had managed to annoy my wife, and to be honest, I still wasn't sure what I did wrong.
It all started in September. Normally, October is my go-to month for photo projects. I use up a bit of holiday and head off for a me day on some exotic wind-swept beach like Hull. This year, however, I had made a cock up and found that rather than my usual plethora of spare holidays, I had managed to use up my holiday allocation. I found this a bit irritating.
I was then reading one of those photography magazines that show you wonderful places to go to take images, normally out of my reach, and it mentioned the Norfolk RSPB reserve in Snettisham and the so-called "Knot spectacular".
This is an annual event, where huge numbers of waders, called Knot, congregate on the East Coast, creating spectacular murmurations. This can only be seen at certain times of the year, when a high tide pushes them up the mud flats to the viewing areas.
It had been on my photographic bucket list for a number of years, and looking at the dates, there was one that occurred at 7:30 am on a Saturday. Suddenly, my holiday limited-year problem had been solved. Also, I had to do was get to Snettisham for the early morning, and I would have a plethora of photographic opportunities.
Snettisham is 2 and half hours from me, and I really didn't want to start off at 4 in the morning, so I booked a Travelodge in nearby Kings Lynn (Slogan - Boring hotels, for cheap people), I was quite pleased with myself, and here I may have made a small mistake of not mentioning to my wife, until a few weeks later when she wanted to discuss plans for the rest of the year. She was not amused that I had done this without consulting her, and I was in the dog house for weeks after.
Still the die was cast, and so it was I found myself on an empty East Anglia road at 5 in the morning, trying to find the RSPB reserve car park. Why so early? Well, in my research, it stated that the car park was small and filled quickly. As it was, there were already a number of cars there, so I parked up and started the 2 Km walk to the viewing site.
Walking in the dark in an unknown area is a weird experience, since you are living in a small tunnel of light with only a vague idea of what is around you. However, in my head, I had already decided what image I would come up with. Because it was a morning start, I hoped to catch the murmuration against the rising sun. The forecast leading up to the day was hopeful; however, on the day, it showed broken clouds. Even that turned out to be a lie, and instead a uniform set of clouds hung over the horizon.
The RSPB brochure promised a helpful RSPB guide to direct you to the right spot and give advice. However, the only guide I saw was someone a kilometre in, using the people skills gained from many years of solo bird watching, telling me, like a 2nd World War air raid warden, to extinguish my torch. Still not sure why, since I doubt the illumination from a single head torch was going to ward off the flocks, and the path, although OK, at places suffered from erosion.
After about 20 20-minute walks, I arrived at the area looking over the mud flats. I had done a lot of research, studied maps etc, but I was still not sure where the best spot would be. Also, I was painfully aware that my best long lens - a 150-440 with a 1.5 converter, was going to be against photographers with fast 600mm+ lenses. I hoped the birds would get close enough in to get close-up shots, but if not, I was going to try to do something a bit more artistic with the fast-moving flocks.
I was also interested to see how the camera bird detection mode would work in a flock and low-light situation.
I had arrived at about 6:30 a.m. so there was plenty of time to take in the surroundings. You would have thought there would be a community spirit in such a gathering, but there was virtually no conversation as we stared out into the morning gloom.
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| Waiting for Knot-o |
The 1st thing I saw was what I initially took as rocks, which were in fact geese, roosting on the mud. As the light rose, these took off as they went to their feeding grounds. My camera struggled to lock onto these targets in the poor light, and I could only hope for better results as the light grew.
As the tide came in, so did various flocks of birds, not of knots, but large flocks of Oyster Catcher and some rarities like spoonbills. Although the tide table indicated a high tide of 7:30, the water did not actually come to the shore till much later. The ever-diminishing mud line is what encourages the waders to come closer. As it was even at 8, the flocks were quite a distance away.
Every once in a while, as if conducted, they would take to the air, creating patterns in the sky. While wonderful to see, it did not quite reach spectacular proportions, just quite interesting.
After a while, the Oyster Catchers and Knots go over to the nearby gravel pits pools on the other side of the sea wall. I have seen images of huge swathes of birds, and I wanted to get a similar image. So at about 9, I decided to beat the rush and head off to the hide, humorously called Knots Landing.
Knots Landing hide is a relatively new hide, and instead of the traditional slotted ports, it has large areas of tinted glass, which is great for viewing, but leaves a lot to be desired for photography. They do, however, provide camera ports and knee and ground-level to take photos. Most of these were already occupied, and there was definitely a social issue on how to manoeuvre to one of the spare ones. Unfortunately, in my excitement about getting a free slot, I forgot to check my camera settings, and it was still on high ISO, so most of the images were soft and noisy.
Not that it mattered too much, since the flocks were not as big as I had seen on other days. A lady I spoke to later, who had travelled all the way from Southampton and sported a huge 600mm prime on her waist, said that the "spectacular" had been a bit disappointing and tomorrow would be better, which is not information you want to hear when you are on a one-day trip.
I then had to decide what to do next. I followed the path around the pool and came up next to the shoreline. By this point, it was 10 am, and the tide was fully in, so I spent some time taking images of an old quay way that stood out. In hindsight, I think I would have been better standing there earlier, since the birds went closer to that point than where I was standing earlier.
I was also surprised to find the birds were still murmuring long past the 7:30 time given. I was also taken by the Oyster Catchers as they headed out to see in small flocks. Although not a rare bird, their black and white plumage, long orange beaks make them quite eye-catching, and I spent a lot of time trying to capture them in flight.
As is usual in my world, the clouds had broken by midday, but the birds had largely dispersed. As I trudged back to the car park, I could inspect the landscape I had missed in the night. To be honest, Snettisham is not the prettiest reserve, being flat and largely treeless. Without these yearly events, there would not be much to recommend it over some of the bigger reserves down the coast, such as Minsmere or Clay Marshes.
I decided I needed lunch, so I made the mistake of heading into Hunstanton (Slogan - Kiss me quick, then get a dose of penicillin), but I spent a few happy minutes taking pictures of the colourful beach huts. Then it was a long drive back home, to find out whether my wife had forgiven me yet...
In hindsight...
So did I get that ground-shattering nature shot? Simple answer, no. When I got back, I was a little disappointed in my shots, especially those taken in the hide. But maybe I shouldn't be. Fuji cameras are not over-supplied with large fast primes, and therefore, I was always going to be limited as to what shots I could get. However, I spent a day watching one of the great nature spectacles, and maybe that should be enough. The fact my photography was not up to capturing it in all its glory is incidental
So what did I learn
1. Be a bit sceptical about tide tables. The actual high tide is actually later
2. Enjoy the day. Yes, its great to take photos, but be part of the moment as well
3. Tell your significant other your plans well ahead of time...
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| Hunstanton groynes |
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| Mud Flat Patterns |
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| A few years ago, one little Egret would of been big news, now you can see loads |
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| Praying to the gods of photography |
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| Take one camera into the shower... |
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| Landscape too |
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| Egret and spoonbills |
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| Marsh Harrier too... |
