November's here again and the world's lost a bit of it's colour for the next little while, with the blended hues of Autumn applying  a rather melancholy pressure as they seep into  the brain and push gently down on the soul.
Coat on, maybe even gloves, you yearn to be back home next to that stove, those glowing coals, that insidious warmth. The cat at least had the good sense to stay in!
Listen up though, the sun may have gone (ain't actually seen it for days), but there is the odd vestige of the spirit of the gunpowder plot  as  the odd  distant rocket shoots skyward & brightens up the four o'clock  gloom; so maybe it is too dull to see much, but think in audio terms &  soon it's  plain that there's plenty of sounds to identify to help clear away the creeping weight of the fatigue of a damp and dull Sunday.

If that doesn't work just think of your other options, the stultifying boredom and downright suicidal misery of scrabble for one ! So, bugger it, stride out down towards the Yare, firmly committed to the notion  that Buckenham always comes out top of list, rain, shine or gloom.

The first sounds that assault your ears are the constant  background clamouring caw of Rooks, hundreds and hundreds of them, roosting up for the evening.  In a very David Copperfield sort of a moment, it does really make you feel 'very very humble sir'.
Closer to the river a distant 'frank'........'frank' as the old boy himself alights upon a high willow bough for the night.  Closer than that,  much closer in fact  , only feet away, whistling Widgeon put up by our presence, fly out of the dykes parallel to the track & coast back down again behind when we 're only a few yards further on. Occasionally there's the unmistakable silhouette the a Shoveler, bigger and broad billed, often happy  companion to  the roosting Widge'.  Eyes still open for a Barn owl, nearly always about, but we don't see one this time. Never the less Lapwings are everywhere, even now in the near dark with their characteristic call, as well as the sporadically exciting  'shhhht,  shhht'    from numerous but now quite invisible Snipe, flying overhead.

Hanging around on the bank at the end, Buckenham seems such a peaceful and natural place it's hard to draw ourselves away,  & to think that only a little while ago we nearly couldn't be bothered to come along at all.

See you down at Buckenham again next time.

Wilds of Norfolk was set up because of our unquenchable enthusiasm for the Norfolk Broads,  our small part of the natural world. We thought we'd like to try and give something back by helping other people enjoy the countryside and it's wildlife as well as do our own little bit to promote an interest in the natural world and it's conservation , not only for the wildlife but for the sheer exuberance of the precious life we're lucky enough to get the chance to live.

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