Over the last few weeks walking down to the marsh there is a notable difference; the silence. We have reached the time of year when the chorus of spring and early summer song ceases and the marsh slips into its quiet period. Gone are the melodies of the warblers, the cacophony of sound from the marsh frogs and and the bleating of lambs. The prevalent sounds now are the wind whistling through the extensive grasses and the occasional bickering of gulls.
Raptors such as merlins and kestrels are busy, hovering, watching and swooping for the hidden rodents; the numbers indicating a healthy hidden rodent population. Many of the migrant birds are busy feeding up on the abundance of insects, preparing for the long migration south. Some have already gone, adult cuckoos left weeks ago, the young soon to follow, with some built in signals of head that way, making this long journey with no guidance. Other birds are busy with their last broods of the year; our solitary house martins nest, a late new family making the most of the insect harvest, to feed up their young to get them ready for their maiden migration to Africa.
All around the marshes there are changes, the light is changing as the days draw slowly shorter, the air first thing is just that bit more crisp and the blackberry’s are early and plenty. The grasses have changed from the lush green to golds and browns and the rushes have reached their full glory, they and the seed heads of the umbels providing perfect resting places for dragonflies. Only the deepest lees still retain water so drawing the wildfowl more to the heart of the marsh. There is still so much here but now it is well hidden, many undergoing the seasonal moult, away from prying eyes.
The wind continues to whisper that change is coming, for the wildlife it is key to make the most of this abundance, to store and fatten up to prepare for the times ahead.
Looking onto the Marshes 