Somerset Rural Life Museum

Tags

Glastonbury Abbey, Glastonbury Tor, Harriet Mead, Hitler, James Lynch, Mapstone, Mussolini, Somerset Rural Life Museum, South West Heritage Trust

I live just a five-minute walk from the Somerset Rural Life Museum, which has been closed for refurbishment for the last three years.  Its unofficial official reopening was yesterday, and a friend, Liz, and I went to it.  What a fantastic job they’ve done! The Museum comprises a farmhouse, the Abbey Barn (that’s Glastonbury Abbey) and a small amount of land.  Until Henry VIII’s 16th century Dissolution of all the abbeys, all the land round here belonged to the Abbey. Since then it has passed through many hands, and in 1917 George Mapstone took over the tenancy.  Mr and Mrs H R Mapstone bought the farm in 1940.  Mrs Mapstone sold most of the land for housing (including where I live) in 1974, but gave the farmhouse and the Abbey Barn to Somerset County Council which used it for the museum. (For the history of the landholding – and much more about Glastonbury – see here.)

The unofficial official opening took place on the north side of the Barn.  Because it was an unofficial official opening there was no ribbon to be cut (the official official opening will be by the Duke of Gloucester in a week or so’s time), so instead the last surviving Mapstone daughter and the Chairman of the Trustees of the museum together unveiled the flag of Somerset.Given the numbers present, we were invited not all to go in via the front door (of the farmhouse), so Liz and I made straight for the courtyard,

(Glastonbury Tor in the background)

where there was music,but most importantly the horse, Captain, made entirely of scrap metal. Liz’s partner, Ray, had been in charge of the machinery which had lifted him into place, and had apparently come home that day raving about the sculpture.  Liz and Ray know a thing or two professionally about horses, and Liz was exclaiming how completely anatomically correct this creation was.  Moreover, she had learned that the sculptor, Harriet Mead, had made no preliminary drawing, but had just started welding pieces of scrap metal together.  (Her work has been featured on the BBC’s ‘Countryfile’.)

 

There is no risk that the sculpture will be pushed over.  It is installed on a solid plinth buried in a large hole in the ground.

We moved into the Abbey Barn, the south side of which completes the courtyard.  It has a splendid new packed earth – I think it’s that – floor (the hardness of which, incidentally will make it much more satisfying for any concerts held there from now on).From there, we went into the farmyard galleries, which, although still housed in the courtyard buildings, have been utterly transformed. Here is just a small selection of the photos I took, (sadly on my phone – I hadn’t thought to take my camera).It was time for a coffee, bought from the café which was undoubtedly having its busiest ever day – entry to the museum was free today –  in a kitchen which was totally new to the staff!

I’d love to know what was being indicated!

 

We talked to the artist, James Lynch, of this amazing landscape, painted in egg tempera on plaster, for a while. Then it was time to go, as we had met and stopped to chat with many interesting people that Liz knew, and as we went we reflected on some of the many quotations appearing around the place.

(I used to sing this at my school in London. I had no idea it was a Somerset folksong!)

With a backward look at the farmhouse, and its porch, the proper entrance to the Museum, I decided to return today, Sunday, to finish looking around.

 

Which I did, with camera this time, around lunchtime.  The time of day, the threatening showers, (the dark and cloudy morning had not turned out to be sunshiny) and of course the fact that it was not longer the opening day, meant than attendance was much thinner on the ground, though I imagine that the staff and volunteers would be pleased enough to see this many people in due course.

I looked around the farmhouse this time, though there remain two more rooms to be fitted out, and was able to admire how well a modern extension to the museum has been blended with the old house.The rooms house many exhibits which have been in storage for so long.

 

The farmhouse kitchen

1940s fairground targets with the faces of Hitler and Mussolini on them

A variety of drinking mugs

 

 

And a very modern exhibit – a waste bin from a recent ‘Glastonbury’ Festival (held in fact at Pilton 7 miles to the east)

 

I went out into the yard again, where Captain was still being admired, and I even saw a woman stroking his nose.  I wonder will that part of his anatomy become shiny in due course?

The black shed is a grain store

The orchard, with its varieties of apples and its sheep, is once more accessible to the public, and has acquired a coconut shy – which I refrained from playing on.

Shepherd’s hut 

Unlike many museums, this one does not oblige you to leave via the shop, but I did so.  It is good to know that just five minutes away I may buy gifts of Somerset produce and manufacture.

 

Congratulations to the South West Heritage Trust for this magnificent restoration, come to fruition so soon after they reopened the beautiful Museum of Somerset at Taunton.

Sicily 8: Catania

Tags

Bellini, Catania, Etna, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, lava tube, Monteverdi, Nievski, Sicily, Siculorum gymnasium, Trattoria de Fiore

Sicily 8: Catania. Suitcases packed, accounts settled, we were off to spend the day in Catania before dispersing.  A last sighting of Etna as we went south.

Francesca had arranged for us to leave our luggage in Catania at a small B and B, The Globetrootter, owned by a friend, for the day, and we set off.

I was thrilled serendipitously at the first place we stopped, a castle built by one of my favourite characters in history, Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, 1194-1250, a fascinating, if far from likeable, man.  I had studied him for my ‘A’ levels and he had intrigued me then.  (If you click on the link, skip the history, and go to ‘Personality’, and ‘Literature and Science’.) On my trip to Sicily in 1975 I had paid homage at his tomb in Palermo Cathedral.  This castle was a real bonus for me.

Although we went in, it was just to say hello to the woman running the bookshop, another friend of Francesca.  (We came across many more of them during the day – this was her home city after all, and she was well-known as a television journalist on the island.)

We then went on to the fishmarket, which turned out to be so much more.

Smoking artichokes!

Francesca and a scampo

We had been told about long courgettes!

 

The next two photos will be of interest only to geology enthusiasts, especially since one is not at all clear.  We went through a bar to see a lava tube, a tunnel made by flowing lava as it solidifies on the outside.  As the sign indicates, it formed during the eruption of Etna in 1669.  It’s of particular interest because it now has a stream flowing though it – in the other direction from that of the original lava flow.On to Catania’s cathedral.  I was pleased to see the tomb of Sicily’s famous composer, Bellini, but not nearly as much as I had been to come across that of Monteverdi in Venice some years back.After a stop for refreshments in the cathedral square, we walked on, and passed this.It was communist headquarters, now a popular pub

 

Not a the modern meaning of a gymnasium, but a place of learning. ‘Siculorum’ means ‘of [the] Sicilians’

Lunchtime.  At the Trattoria de Fiore, run (that does not adequately describe the force that she is) for the last 40 plus years by Rosanna, who makes wonderful pasta among other things.  Ordering our meal was an event in itself, especially since Rosanna just loves talking – and she wasn’t the only Sicilian present who has the same predilection…The others all ordered pasta , but I just didn’t feel hungry enough so I ordered antipasti and a light fish dish…

My antipasti!

 

But I should have known that antipasti would be more than sufficient. The sardines to follow were delicious, but I could only manage two of the seven, even though they were small as fresh sardines go.  I managed to persuade others to eat three of those left over, and made copious apologies to Rosanna for not finishing the entire dish.

Here is a blurry picture of someone’s ‘pasta alla norma’, resembling a volcano.We got up from table well after 4 pm!  It was nearly time to get back to the B and B place to pick up our luggage and say goodbye.  But we just had one more visit to make – to what had once been a monastery and was now a university – where Francesca had done her studies.We were able to peek inside the large rooms where lecturers worked – the monks clearly didn’t stint themselves for space back in the days.

And so we said goodbye.  Geoff was off to Syracusa, Francesca, and Alec and Isobel were staying on in Catania for one extra night before returning to the UK the following day, so it was just Emma and I who took a 20-minute bus ride to the airport to await our plane, which would get us to Gatwick at midnight.

Despite my accidents and being off-colour, it had been a lovely week in good and friendly company, with a great variety of themes and activities.  Being a study tour had made it extra interesting.  If there is one which stands out as both unexpected and ultra enjoyable … it was Food!

I  think it is definitely a case of ‘Arrivederci Sicilia’.  I hope so anyway.

Sicily 7: Taormina

Tags

amaro, D H Lawrence, Etna, Florence Trevelyan, Fontana Vecchia, Francesca Marchese, G7, Geoff Andrews, granita, Parco Duca di Cesaro, Sciascia, Sicily, Taormina, Verga

Sicily 7: Taormina.  I had slept terribly on Monday night, or rather I scarcely slept at all. My ankle was troubling me – discomfort is always worse at night – my cold was now full-blown, and I had a sore shoulder from my fall.  I therefore decided to cut the morning’s programme of discussion on Sicilian writers, notably Sciascia and Verga, (of whom I had  never heard) and to rejoin my companions at lunchtime.  I was greeted at 12.45, ‘Have you heard the news? [Wifi was patchy in the bedrooms.] There’s to be a general election on 8th June.’

Well, that determined conversation over our meal – fortunately and not surprisingly we were all committed Remainers, so there was no falling out.

The afternoon’s programme was a visit to the nearby large town of Taormina. On being dropped, we made out way to the Greek/Roman amphitheatre.  Taormina is to host the G7 for three days at the end of May, so it is being spruced up everywhere.  I counted four separate work sites in the amphitheatre, each of them seemingly driven by a very noisy generator.And sadly the iconic (sorry!) view towards Etna was restricted by clouds over the volcano.  Oh well, I had had a good view of it in 1975…The views north and south from the spot were wonderful. Francesca, testing out security, then marched the five of us into a very posh hotel nearby.She so much wanted us to see its gardens.Next it was the Parco Duca di Cesaro, created by the Englishwoman, Florence Trevelyan, two centuries ago. However, Britain, as it seemed to me, had been once of the few large powers before the nineteenth century never to have ruled Sicily.  Evidence of occupations of Sicily was to be seen everywhere.

Greek

Roman

French

And then it was time to visit the ‘best place in Taormina’ for granita.

Eating Granita is a serious business

All around the town we had seen wonderful paintings on external walls.  I regret not having taken more photos of them.  But  we stopped to have a particular look at these, which actually were not in the same style as the others.  Francesca called on the owner of the house they ornamented, whom she knew to be the author of all these paintings, and chatted to him for a while.There were not only paintings everywhere we went but wonderful balcony decorations.  Here is one near the painter’s house.But this had been my favourite, a feast for my eyes while my mouth was feasting on my granita.There was one more place to be visited.  Geoff was very keen that we should see Fontana Vecchia, the former house of D H Lawrence.  We had to tramp a bit for this, and we had some difficulty finding it. My ankle was troubling me and I was feeling very tired, so at one point I stopped, and sat on a low wall as the sun started going down, while the others continued searching. They were gone for what seemed to me a very long time.   But I was delighted on their coming to pick me up to learn that not only had they found the house, but they been invited in by the current owner.  One very happy group returned to Edoné – and I had managed to buy my amaro to take home.

 

Sicily 5: Wine-tasting and Wet

Tags

Cavanera, cuddura ccu l'ova, DH Lawrence, di Lampedusa, Edoné, Etna, Etna Bianco, Etna Rosso, Favinia, Firriato, Francesca Marchese, Gaudensius, Geoff Andrews, Salvatore Romano, Sicily, The Leopard

Sicily 5: Wine-tasting and Wet. From Etna, we were taken not very far to the Firriato winery, where we met up once more with Salvatore Romano and his Swiss wife, Karin.  They had joined us for our very first evening meal at Edoné, and they will figure large in the next post.Here we had lunch. We started by just soaking bread in the most heavenly olive oil you can imagine, accompanied by a little salad, and the first of the wines.

Geoff, Natalie, Salvatore and Karin

Next came this assortment of cheeses and meats, accompanied by white, then red, versions of this wine.

I failed to get a photo of the sweet, but it was accompanied by a very nice sweet wine.We were shown around the winery, and given the opportunity to buy their products.  Reluctant to weigh my suitcase down too much, I didn’t purchase anything here, as I planned to buy some amaro before the stay was over.

On just a few more kilometres, and we made a short diversion to a Byzantine basilica, about which nothing appears to be known.

View from the basilica

The programme was light for the next day, Easter Sunday, just a morning discussion around D H Lawrence in Sicily and Di Lampedusa’s ‘The Leopard’ (which I had actually re-read before leaving home).

Isobel, Alec, Geoff, Emma and Francesca on the patio

Francesca at what I believe to be her favourite activity – taking pictures of people

Sunday lunch included these traditional Easter cakes or biscuits, cuddura ccu l’ova.  Those are indeed whole boiled eggs.

Nothing was programmed for the afternoon. Just as well, as there was a torrential thunderstorm, trapping Francesca’s parents, who had arrived in the early afternoon to take their daughter out for a couple of hours.   Living in London, Francesca had not seen them for a while, and was looking forward to catching up with them.

(Just as well for me as well. I was developing a sore throat.)

All three people eventually escaped and the day cleared up.

Tomorrow: Food – seen a lot already? You ain’t seen nuttin’ yet!

Sicily 4: Mount Etna

Tags

Betula Aetnensis, Etna, Etna Birch, Mount Etna, Sicily, volcano

Sicily 4: Mount Etna.  When I had visited Sicily in 1975, for me the most exciting discovery, of all the amazing discoveries on the tour of the whole island, had been Mount Etna.  Our visit to it had taken place on a grey day, but that hadn’t mattered at all.  Up first in a jeep, then a funicular, and then a little way on foot to be almost within touching distance of a slow, glowing, tinkling, crinkly, lava flow, from which we could feel the warmth.  I recall that, in those days when you took just one photo of a given area and that was that, because of film and processing costs, I used a whole 36-image film just on that lava flow, so excited was I by it all.  And I came home and bought a book on how volcanoes work.  (Soon afterwards, that particular funicular was destroyed by a further eruption.) Since then I have done an Open University module on geology, a significant part of which was on volcanoes.  So my hopes this day were high.

Nathalie, presumably a self-employed guide, took us in her people carrier. Up and up and up we went,

and we stopped to look at a road which was distinctly no longer a Z-bend.

Then we moved on and up to about 2500 metres, to the north, less tourist-frequented side of the volcano.  Pictures of devastation and desolation.

The white gas is water vapour, the blue sulphur dioxide

Geoff surveys where a hotel used to be

This was the highest we got.  Apparently it is possible to go further up in a funicular, and then further on foot, to get much closer (but not too close!) to where the action is, but that had not been the intention for our particular group.  So I was a little sad.

Francesca looking on.

We moved round and a little lower down by car, and were introduced to Etna birch, Betula Aetnensis, found only on Etna, its peculiarity being that, unlike other birches, it has multiple trunks coming from the ground. (Virtually nothing on it is to be found via search engines on the internet.)  We started off on a walk towards a spectacular view.  Unfortunately my ankle did not at all enjoy the terrain – small broken up lava – on which we were walking, re-twisting itself frequently.  I found a nice Etna birch on which to perch, and Francesca kindly decided to stay with me, stating she had done Etna a thousand times.  I have to say it was really rather pleasant sitting there in the sun, though I didn’t fancy stretching out on the ground as Francesca did.  She insisted on taking a photo of me with Etna in the background,

then a close-up on the grounds that I had a ladybird in my hair

which I couldn’t see in the photo until I blew it up…

Finally we went on to a refuge/bar where we had a drink – of course – and watched some videos of Etna erupting, and looked at a map. 

I took a panorama from that spot.

Lunch, described in the next post, consisted of a wine tasting and antipasti a few kilometres away…

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge

Tags

Alcanatara, Alcantara Gorge, Alcantara River, Castiglione, colubro, Etna, Etna Discovery, Gole d'Alcantara, tadpole

Sicily 2: Alcantara Gorge. This morning, Friday 14th April, was billed as a nature trail, which I think gave some of us the idea that we were in for a gentle stroll.  We did not imagine that we would be climbing up and down a gorge!

Claudio, of Etna Discovery, was our guide along the three areas of the Alcantara (stress on the second syllable) Gorge. Very knowledgeable he was too, and his strong arms at tricky passages were also most welcome.  He took us first down a shady path to a viewpoint over a particularly narrow part of the gorge.

Showing the basalt columns through which the river has worn its way

 

Then back up and along a top path to a stretch which gave an impression of a wider part of the Alcantara river valley.

This and other frogs were in a puddle in the wide path.  Most however buried themselves in the fine mud at our approach

Return to the vehicle and then down to a spot where we were able to access the river floor.

 

A rapidly shrinking pool at the side of the gorge. These tadpoles would be doomed even without the fact that a young snake has discovered them

One gorged colubro snake (about 18 inches, 45 cm, long). Ibelieve that the English name is the smooth snake.

Geoff, Claudio, Emma, Alec, Isobel and Francesca, as we emerged once more at the top of the Gorge

 

Finally, after a debate as to how we might best use the rest of our time, Claudio drove us some way away to another spot, where a quite lengthy rising walk took us to further views of the river upstream – to find that others had got there before us.

 

Distant view, much zoomed, of Castiglione, where we were find ourselves that evening for the procession

 

Hints of Mount Etna, and its vapours, in the distance

Views upstream…

… and downstream, from a footbridge

A better view of Etna snatched on the drive back to the agriturismo (a farm used partly for tourism purposes)

 

Unfortunately on the way back down to the vehicle, I stumbled on a stone, and twisted my right ankle rather nastily.  This meant that for the rest of the holiday I was having to walk very gingerly, especially where the surface was not totally flat, and when turning corners, though this didn’t prevent me from joining in any of the activities. (Dancing was not on the menu.)

Sicily 1: Edoné

Tags

Catania, Edoné, Francesca Marchese, Geoff Andrews, Graniti, Sicilian food, Sicily, Sicily Unlimited

Edoné. I’d last been to Sicily in 1975, and had longed to go back again ever since.  At last I had the chance, when I booked on to Geoff Andrews’ Sicily Unlimited trip, to spend a week at Edoné (stress on the last syllable), about an hour’s drive north west of Catania, studying a few aspects of Sicilian culture, with appropriate visits.  Geoff organised, and Francesca Marchese, a Sicilian journalist (mainly TV), now living and working freelance in London, was our local guide.

We – a group of just four people – arrived late morning on Thursday, 4th April, and spent the rest of the day quietly settling in, exploring Edoné and getting to know each other.

The building on the hill is another holiday residence

Alfresco eating location

I was very pleased with my room, and its very modern bathroom.

Entrance

View from

Once unpacked, I made the acquaintance of some of Edoné’s personnel.

Enzo in his kitchen

Nerina

 

Luna

I only ever saw one species of lizard, very green with an amazingly long tail.

We had had a delicious lunch, and soon realised that superb food was to be a hallmark of the week.  This is the dining room, and the antipasti at dinner.  (While I was tempted to, I did not take a photo of every dish we were served during the week.)The next day was Good Friday.  A nature walk and a most extraordinary Good Friday procession will be the subject of the next two posts.

 

Greylake Nature Reserve

Tags

coot, fieldfare, gadwall, greta white egret, Greylake, Ham Wall, hare, lapwing, mink, otter, redwing, RSPB, shoveler, snipe, Somerset Wildlife Trust, sparrowhawk, stonechat, swan, teal, wetlands, wigeon

Greylake Nature Reserve, owned by the RSPB.  I’d visited it just once before, and that only briefly. The prospect of a guided tour with birding experts, set up by the Somerset Wildlife Trust, and led by an RSPB volunteer, was too good to miss, so this was my third outdoor outing this week in near freezing temperatures.The briefing told us that the land had been in cultivation until 2003, when it was bought by the RSPB and converted into wetland for wildlife.  We would make our way to the main hide, where we would spend about half our time, and then walk around those parts accessible to the public.  Most of the area was kept behind electric fencing for the tranquillity of the birds and animals.  It was good to come at all times of the year, but this season was the best time because of the thousands of different birds over-wintering there.

On the way to the hide, I managed to get an indifferent picture of a fieldfare.

Once at the hide, we had this general view ahead of us.Looking round, and closing in a little with binoculars and camera, here are other aspects.

Wigeon, shovelers and coot

Wigeon, shoveler, coot and gadwall

Experienced birders were soon exclaiming at this clump, just 20 metres or so from us.A pair of teal can be seen easily, especially the male.  But are there really snipe there? And four?In due course I managed to find three, and indeed once you knew that they were there, it was even possible to pick the nearest one out with the naked eye, they were so close.  But what wonderful camouflage!  They didn’t move the whole of the time we were there.

 

It was not possible to get photos of all the species we saw, but here are some. (If birder readers wish to comment with further names, or corrections to any of these photos, above and below, please feel free!)

Shovelers, the male’s bill demonstrating just why they bear that name. The female has the same bill, but that is hidden here.

 

I just love lapwings, (also known as peewits) for their green iridescence, their cheeky crest, their wonderful courtship flight, their flappy way of flying (I call them flapwings).  This one all alone entertained us close to the hide for ages.

And as at Ham Wall, there was a Great white egret in the distance.

 

Three in fact. and here is one of the others flying around

 

Not long after leaving the hide, and keeping to the established path, we were shown by one of the RSPB volunteers, to the right of the path, some otter poo and some mink poo, the former more welcome than the latter.  The otter spraint was on a well-established otter path.To the left, the other part of the otter path could be seen.We were pleased then to see crowds and crowds of lapwing flying around, as if there had been a signal to the thousands in the area all to rise up at once. Here are just a few of them.Swans have no need to fear humans, and they know it. This one made for an easy photo, just a very few metres away from where we were walking.A distant view of another great white egret.Evidence of a recent hare boxing match.And of a sparrowhawk kill.We hoped to see more small birds, and indeed we did see redwing, and stonechat, but I couldn’t get photos.  We went on to a viewpoint:But few wetland birds were favouring this area of the reserve. Perhaps, along with the small birds, they were favouring the more sheltered areas on this chilly day.  But I, usually spending far too much of my life in front of a computer, had really enjoyed my three outdoors outings this week.  I must do it more often, and certainly return to Greylake at other seasons.

Snowdrop garden

Tags

Blackdown Hills, Edwin Lutyens, Gertrude Jekyll, Hestercombe, Higher Yarde Farm, NSPCC, Quantocks, Snowdrop, Somerset Wildlife Trust, Staplegrove, Taunton

Snowdrop garden.  For two days, Friday and Saturday, the owners of Higher Yarde Farm, Staplegrove, near Taunton, are opening their wonderful early spring garden to visitors, in support of the Somerset Wildlife Trust.  Last weekend they did the same for the NSPCC.

There had been many visitors before me, despite a typical temperature of around 2°C, but as the last to arrive I had the large garden to myself, and almost missed the tea and cake on offer at the end.   I wondered whether the delightful building I had seen in the grounds was a holiday let, and learned that it was.  If I lived further away, I would be very tempted to use this as a base to explore the Quantock Hills and the Blackdown Hills, not to mention the wonderful Edwardian Hestercombe Gardens by Edwin Lutyens and Gertrude Jekyll just a few miles away.

I’d never seen so many snowdrops in one place before, but just as enjoyable were all the other signs of spring on its way, in this garden clearly designed not only to please the human eye, but to be as friendly as possible to wildlife.AA little bridge soon tempts you off to the right……towards a pond.Onward to some glades and woodland.

 

The sun came out for a few minutes

I think this may be a hedgehog shelter

Then another bridge leads you on towards the house, and tea and cake (so much choice).This is the converted barn holiday let.

 

And back down the snowdrop-lined drive.

I have a third outdoor visit for this week tomorrow…

Starlings at Ham Wall

Tags

Ashcott, Avalon Marshes, Canada goose, coot, Glastonbury Tor, Great white egret, Ham Wall, mallard, murmuration, pochard, rhyne, RSPB, Shapwick Heath, Somerset Wildlife Trust, Stephen Moss, swan

I hadn’t been to see the local starling murmuration this winter, so yesterday mid-afternoon I decided to rectify that.  It’s always chancy, and for a good display the ideal weather is clear skies. Yesterday there was mainly thin cloud, but I knew that the birds would soon be migrating back to their north European breeding grounds, and I might not have many more chances.  The Avalon Marshes starling hotline informed me that the previous night the starlings had roosted at both Ham Wall and Shapwick Heath, each accessible from the same RSPB car park at Ashcott, (recently created, to the great relief of those using the nearby country road from which the reserves are accessible.)

Once there, I decided, I’m not sure why, to go east along the rhyne (pronounced ‘reen’) or drainage ditch, making for Ham Wall, rather than westwards to Shapwick Heath.    I made my way slowly to the main viewing platform, 400 metres down the path, enjoying what other birds were to be seen on the reserve, as night started to fall.

Glastonbury Tor in the distance

The water levels are carefully managed with sluices

En route I observed Stephen Moss, naturalist, author and TV producer, and President of the Somerset Wildlife Trust, with a small group of people, and I reckoned I must have made the right decision as to direction.  Once I was at the platform, the Avalon Marshes representative advised going on another 600 metres, as a thousand starlings had already  made their way in that direction.  “There’s another half million due, and earlier on in the season there were a million here, but they’ve started leaving.  We have had as many as five million in years gone by.”

On maximum zoom, in the far distance from the viewing platform, a great white egret, a species that has just begun to breed in the UK.

I walked on the extra distance, taking more photos.

When I’d gone the 600 metres, I was not alone – this was about a third of the people gathered there.

I moved slightly away and lower, to the bank of the rhyne, where there were fewer people. It wasn’t long before I became aware of birds streaming way up high over my left shoulder.  They were all making their over to the north and doing a bit of their murmuring there, but at a low level and not very photographable.  But I got a few pictures over the next 20 minutes or so.

Then they were gone, into the reeds, for the night.  The moon was up, behind the cloud,

and it was time to wander back to the car park, along the rhyne.

Tardy small groups of starlings continued to fly over my head for a little while to join their roosting companions. How do they know where to go? What more pleasant way to spend a late afternoon? Why don’t I visit one of the UK’s most famous nature reserves, just 20 minutes from where I live, more often?

I’ve just rung the starling hotline again.  Yesterday the starlings only roosted at Ham Wall.  Good call.