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This morning, as a gust from a cold easterly wind made us shudder into our coats, a high pitched exchange of notes rode the breeze upstream. The Mermaid was flowing over a riverbed which was seemingly devoid of life. But as we approached the calls became more frenetic and a pair of Kingfishers fled downstream before us. They continued their conversation, perched for a while on a suitable fence before whirring low and straight towards the Bure. Their colours almost shocking in comparison to the browns and greys of the meadows in March

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The Daffodils, or as I prefer to know them, the Lent Lilies in the Churchyard have paused. They shiver and wait in that pre flowering stage. This follows a short period of over optimistic bud burst centring on the spring-like warmth of last Tuesday. On that day the e hedgerow buds seemed to just about to come into leaf. The spirits were lifted and all was well. Since then the ditches have been filled to the brim, the Bure has burst it’s banks and every field looks like February again. Two inches of rain have fallen in two days and the thought of planting potatoes has to be out the back of our mind.

Movement north

March 5, 2013

The Fieldfares and some other winter visitors have left. Winter migrants are clearly moving north as Spring advances upon them. ¬†Only yesterday, as we left the hospital at the end of evening visiting, the gentle flight call notes of swans drifted down. It was, for once a clear starlit night and we watched a formation of nine Bewick’s Swans as they passed serenely in line-astern overhead. Their whiteness somewhat colour-washed by the light pollution from the east of the city. Their calls contrasting with the monotonous hum of the city. They were heading intently north eastwards, responding to the call of the Russian tundra. ¬†