Frank pointed a toe in the general direction of his nemesis, Archie the bold, and smiled at the quickening  pace, almost a  trot, just as the fearful tones of the Guide met his ear with, 'Archie's got a heart murmur you know'. More than happy with the response from both parties, Frank parroted to himself  the same words interjected with a copulative expletive and walked outside, fingering a respectable wedge of Prune cake (baked by the Guide's own fair hand), and holding his customary mug of English Breakfast Tea. Thermometer read minus one, & a brisk cold wind blew over the field bringing the odd flurries of snow. The air was filled with squeaky, noisy Pink Footed Geese which had been put up or spooked, off the scattered sugar beet tops, on an adjacent field. There were more Pink footed this year, literally thousands filled the air each morning, going west, and then east again later on, as the sun waned and the evening air grew icy.

A bit windy for a canoe trip, so down to Strumpshaw fen for a wander along the Yare. No one in the brick hide, but as usual Coots busied themselves on the water. Looking closely, a few Teal added to the scene with a lone Shoveler and obligatory Cormorant on a low stick, warming his wings during some sunny respite from the snow showers. As soon as  the sun appeared ,a female Marsh Harrier flew a nice display, close to the hide, but not much else, so through the woods (nothing) and up to the pump where the Guide duly pointed out a Barn owl fairly close sitting in a Hawthorne bush. Moving along under cover of the reed, The Guide and Frank managed to get in close enough to see his eye, as he lofted into the air and began quartering the marsh, occasionally hovering and dropping in between the tussocks of Sedge and Rush. The binocular view revealing water dripping from his talons and legs, as he hoisted  himself back into the air. Past the pump and onto the bank, a Kingfisher buzzed through, and further along a lone Dabchick dabbled around in the margins, uninterested in his keen viewers.

Nipping down to the Fen hide proved worthwhile as a flight of four Whooper Swans honked their way Westward and a large flock of Teal landed and alighted over and over, whistling and turning all the time, perhaps just for fun. Tower hide revealed more snow and just two Crows, there being nothing left for it but to get holed up for the afternoon, with a fire, copious tea, and bellies full of  Christmas goodies .

Next day turned out to be a warm 0 degrees, so our minimally intrepid pair brushed the snow off the canoe, donned thermals and splashed in at Sutton Staithe for a run up to Honing lock, which seemed a like a good idea , initially ! Sensible people appeared to have stayed in, but Frank & the Guide paddled to their hearts content without seeing anything other than reeds and the beautiful water. The sun's rays still had a touch of heat, even in spite of the immense distance travelled, so coats and gloves were soon removed. Stopping for lunch, on the banks of Dilham Canal, the icy air seemed to pervade more redolently, and much attention was paid to the stove, and how quickly that tea might be brewed. After the short stop, a fairly hearty half hour of work to warm back up, followed a measured couple of hours return paddle to Sutton concluded the day, strange, in that such peace and solitude  seemed the keep even the wildlife in awe, and the broads seemed to be at their loneliest and most anciently charismatic for many a year.

See you 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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