A perfect summer evening

The air is warm but not quite still and, here on the fen, a male marsh harrier uses this to his advantage as he hangs momentarily above the edge of the reeds. It is a perfect summer evening, with the calm of dusk already beginning to descend upon the scene. A grasshopper warbler whirrs his reeling song, echoed a hundred times over by the softer extended buzzes of calling bush crickets. A few late dragonflies hawk for smaller prey, moving as if controlled by busy electric motors, driving them forward in a rapid mechanical motion. And there, where the reedbed pushes up against the base of the poplar plantation, the dark grey scythe of a hobby drifts past with lazy ease, pitching upwards into a stall that sees it land in one of the trees. The hobby is perched below the reach of the setting sun, in shadow, but such is the strength and colour of the evening light that it remains beautifully lit; it’s rufous ‘trousers’ and black face mask dress it as a smart toreador. Will I get to witness its ballet de mort, as it toys with the sweeping swifts feeding in ever ascending arcs up into the fenland sky?

Out on the water are coot and grebe, all with young in attendance, while closer by a party of swans feeds and utters soft sounds of reassurance. Large carp break surface in the river, their rotund bodies briefly make me think of porpoise, so glossy smooth do they appear in the changing light, with water clinging to them like some wet mucous skin. Along the bank and out into the flooded shallows wade the hefty forms of cattle, with calves in tow, all chewing their way through mouthfuls of luxuriant riverside vegetation. Perhaps disturbed by these bovine interlopers, a grey heron heaves itself up into the air with laboured wingbeats and moves off to find a more peaceful fishing spot.

Smaller birds can be heard, and fleetingly seen, within the reedbeds that sit below the level of this bund, which guides me out and leads me along the sinuous edge of the river, past the great stands of poplars to the expanse of flooded reeds and open ground within which the two pairs of nesting cranes remain so well hidden. The occasional call reveals the continued presence of the orioles, whose young successfully fledged from their high nests over the last two weeks. This is a special place to be on such an evening, highlighting in so many ways why an English summer can be so magical. I feel at one with the creatures around me and know that I have found my true place in this landscape.

Reeling beauty

Foulden Common is a regular haunt for me during May and June. Home to a wide range of birds and insects, this mixture of short-turf grassland and scrub provides the perfect excuse for an afternoon spent wandering in search of wildlife. At the moment, there are a small number of sheep and their lambs on the common, brought in to help maintain the short turf and diversity of plants needed by resident insects, notably grizzled skipper butterfly. A visit on Sunday afternoon began in sunshine but, as the cloud thickened, the temperature dropped and few insects were on the wing. Despite the lack of invertebrates, there were plenty of birds to be seen and heard. In addition to the chiffchaffs, blackcaps, chaffinches and tits that were much in evidence, I was lucky enough to catch the reeling song of a grasshopper warbler. This grey-brown and rather anonymous looking bird has a habit of skulking low down in the vegetation; so it is fortunate that its reeling song, likened to the sound made by an angler’s reel, is so characteristic. The song, usually delivered in the evening or at night, has a rather unusual quality in that it seems to rise and fall in volume – almost as if the bird is close by and then suddenly much farther away. This effect occurs as the bird rotates its head, the volume appearing to increase when the bird is facing you.

The grasshopper warbler is a summer visitor to our region, with individuals arriving from their West African wintering grounds from the middle of April. Most birds have arrived by the beginning of May, and the male song can be heard from a range of habitats, including scrub, wetland margins, thick hedgerows and old industrial sites. The key feature of these habitats is the availability of low, dense ground cover, in which the birds can nest, coupled with some taller song posts and insect-rich feeding areas. The number of grasshopper warblers seems to fluctuate from year to year, perhaps reflecting a tendency to move between areas but, even allowing for this, this little warbler can best be described as an uncommon breeding species. The breeding season itself extends from late April through into August, potentially allowing a pair to have three nesting attempts.

The wetter margins of Foulden Common are, in many ways, ideal for the grasshopper warbler, making an evening visit to the site well worthwhile. If you need an additional reason to tempt you to the common, then the presence of nightingales should be sufficient. An evening serenade by two of our greatest songsters should be enough to tempt even the laziest of armchair birdwatchers – you don’t even need your binoculars.