Archive for Dungeness

Tim’s “World of Sheds”

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on November 28, 2018 by cliffdean

When news broke last week that Dungeness’ Skeleton Shed – the most photographed building in the world after the Eiffel Tower –  had finally collapsed, mourning was widespread and the “Dungeness Then & Now” Facebook page overwhelmed with photographic eulogies depicting this humble structure from all angles and in all lights.

I look forward to acquiring a Skeleton Shed T-shirt to go with the fish-bone one from The Pilot.

My friend Tim Waters, whose photos have often embellished my posts had been a long-term fan and sent me the following images from the times when this shed was still fleshed out with planks.

Tim has taken many photographs mystical sunrise and moonrise over Dungeness, from slopes along the back of the marsh, down on the headland itself or even from within the shed.

Some camera enthusiasts will be surprised to learn that there are sheds in places other than Dungeness, but tucked away in the Weald where, as we know, nobody ventures apart from Tim, me, and, occasionally slow But Sure and RXbirdwalkers.

Below are some lonely woodland  shelters without a tripod in sight.

And while on the subject of concrete, we were recently discussing the distribution of yellow Xanthoria lichens (most on the top, few on the sides) on this Stanton Shelter close to Camber Castle. When faced with lichen-related questions I turn to Keith Palmer, who explained, “They like the nutrients in bird droppings (these lichens go by the highly impressive name ornicoprophilous – loving bird dung!). As the droppings get washed down the stone by rain the nutrients become more diluted so there are fewer of them. The lichens will develop of course where birds perch frequently – for example before entering a nest site.”

Inspired by the outpouring of rickety cabins, Alan Parker has contributed these from Marina Allotments

Tim again, out in yesterday’s fog:


Strange Days on the Peninsular!

Posted in Uncategorized with tags on October 29, 2018 by cliffdean

The first Great Egret I can recall seeing in this area was in the middle of a snowstorm in early 2010. But now, especially in the last year, they have become standard birds at Rye Harbour where in the recent past they were present but a bit difficult to see and in the last few months have been at Pett Level, sitting around in the fields or along the canal. Dungeness, though, has been the place for a few years now and on Saturday’s RXbirdwalk we were seeing them all the time, at one point with five in view at once, four lined up for helpful comparison with a Grey Heron.

Just across the track were 7 Cattle Egrets. At first we’d spotted one at the far end of a field where bullocks were grazing. Then another and another but they kept fluttering over to be hidden in a gully until the cattle decided to trundle over and check us out for food, whereupon the egrets followed till just a few yards from us, showing typical indifference to human presence.

Meanwhile, at least 4 Marsh Harriers were quartering the reedbeds, a pair of Ravens croaked overhead where the occasional Buzzard and Sparrowhawk where wheeling, and a pair of Egyptian Geese crossed low above the gorse. No Little Egrets though.

I’ve recently watched a couple of films from the 70s which attempted to portray the future, a risky business in which a few predictions have been realized, others laughably not while yet others were not even dreamt of. After our walk at Dengemarsh I wondered how today’s scenario might have been greeted if evoked in the mid-70s when I moved to this area. Or even the 80s? At that time I didn’t even see Greylag Geese, now present in hundreds, let alone these other more exotic – less exotic with every day that passes – species.

The spread of uncontrolled introductions, the return of no-longer-poisoned & persecuted raptors, the arrival on Winds of Climate Change herons…how many of those birds were predicted back then? And if today’s scene could have been seen then, who would have taken it seriously?

A more predictable seasonal change was under way too, with a sudden drop in temperatures hard to adapt to after a long, long warm Indian Summer leading to the usual exaggerated warnings on the news. A north wind! So I was wrapped up as if for January – glad of it at first but as soon as the sun came out feelings a bit over-dressed. Not that much though.

I’ve realised that a few minutes spent looking at the gardens in Outer Lydd can turn up ordinary garden birds which might be hard to see on the extraordinary shingleworld of Dungeness, so we spent a few minutes looking for things like Blackbird & GS Woodpecker – actually we saw all of these later. A little way down Dengemarsh Road we were looking at Lapwings, Golden Plovers, Starlings & Black-headed Gulls on the arable land when they suddenly all erupted into the air swirling about with their own signature wing-beats and flock formations. In contrast, one bird was moving through with determined level flight: a Merlin, which optimistically bounced off a Stock Dove (useful to judge size) before making a smooth dive to provoke Alarm & Despondency in the town gardens.

Further on, in the shackside willows, Chiffchaffs were calling. Just a couple of days previously they had been singing in the sunshine. Pied Wagtails & Meadow Pipits frequented a dung heap. The variety of wildfowl on that part of the RSPB reserve was quite limited but we saw a fair variety – 63 species – including a few incoming Blackbirds, Song Thrushes & Redwings.


Dengemarsh circular

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on April 16, 2018 by cliffdean

This was the first time we had walked the whole way round from Lydd, a 4-mile circular route with hardly any repetition or deviation but quite a few hesitations in the middle part through the RSPB reserve.

The first and last stretches of the walk, down Dengemarsh Road and back up a broad farm track respectively, have fewer birds and so give people time to chat, get to know each other and catch up with news. And, on this occasion, give time for the thick, bird-enveloping mist to disperse. Time too to speculate on the purpose of the traffic, remarkably heavy for a narrow, rough road which leads only to the sea, and composed of a surprising number of very expensive-looking vehicles. Can they all be sea anglers? If not, what?

By the time we arrived at Springfield Bridge, visibility was improving: we were able to see Linnets & Stock Doves in the birdfood strip, wildfowl on the lake and the first of very many pairs of Reed Buntings – the lakes’ marginal vegetation clearly offering them exactly the right nesting habitat. Listening in to bird calls is always an important part of RXbirdwalks and as we paid attention to the buntings’ contact notes and song, we began to hear the atmospheric marsh sounds of displaying Lapwings & Redshanks.

A bit further on, we came across the rapid rasping chatter of our first Sedge Warbler and spent quite a bit of time watching its fluttering song-flight and trying to distinguish bits of mimicry. Further on, a Reed Warbler was singing from lakeside reeds but rather too faintly to be of much use in comparison, but then two newly-arrived Lesser Whitethroats could be heard rattling in the taller willows, one of them giving good views.

With the sun now shining, Linnets & Dunnocks singing from the flowering gorse, we spent some time on the viewpoint, enjoying its broad panorama of the marsh and hoping for the sound of a Bittern (it kept quiet). As the air warmed up, a column of gulls and a couple of Buzzards spiralled in a thermal at the top of which were 3 Sparrowhawks – local breeding rivals or migrants?

The walk back, which attracts few bird-watchers, turned up a couple of Bearded Tits, fantastic close views of a hunting male Marsh Harrier and finally a glimpse of a Great Egret quietly fishing on the edge of a nearby gravel pit.

Dengemarsh clockwise

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on December 19, 2017 by cliffdean

In a radical new approach, we walked a little way down Dengemarsh Road from Lydd before branching off left down the footpath through arable land to the back of the reserve. It adds just a mile to the usual circuit and was more interesting than I anticipated. To our left, flocks of Snipe erupted from the frosty rape fields while on the other side were hundreds of Lapwings, Golden Plover & Starling as well as Egyptian Geese and one out-of-place Brent. The path is broad and easy to follow, though the first footbridge has (livestock-proof?) bars across it rendering it fairly human-proof as well. Gymnastic and limbo-dancing skills are required at this point.

A small bird diving into bramble revealed itself as a wintering Chiffchaff. A blue jumble beside the bush revealed itself as a retired scarecrow, the baler twine employed to secure its plastic-bottle head disturbingly reminiscent of the ligature around the neck of Tollund Man, the spilling straw guts adding to the sense of sublimated sacrifice.

What with this and the nearby Concrete Corpse, a narrative is emerging…

In opting for a clockwise circulation I had realised that we’d be looking into the low winter sun for much of the time but this provided opportunities to sharpen identification skills through studying silhouettes and discounting colour distortions arising from strong shadow. Otherwise the blue sky was a fabulous backdrop to flying WigeonGreylag Geese, Marsh Harriers and twinkling flocks of Lapwings & Golden Plovers. Bitterns, Bearded Tits & Water Rails, however, kept their heads down.

Back on Dengemarsh Road, when one of our group picked up a distant flying flock of white birds the long necks and rapid wing-beats distinguished them as 13 Bewick’s Swans – on tour, presumably from Darkest Horsebones. As we followed their progress down the peninsula they passed at least 5 Marsh Harriers before swinging round and dropping out of sight somewhere near Scott Hide. When they passed us again, much closer, I was, unfortunately, looking in the other direction so only got a back view.

Two more mysteries. Once you pass the farms there’s nothing much down Dengemarsh Road and yet there’s a constant stream of traffic. The vehicles could be those of anglers or dog-walkers but a surprisingly large proportion braving the potholes and puddles were expensive white SUVs; what can it all mean? Then, an odd rumbling sound preceded the appearance of two teenage lads cheerfully hauling trolley-cases down the corrugated concrete road, one clutching a print-on-canvas of a fast car (not a white SUV) as if planning to set up home. But where? The only potential accommodation was a caravan beside the chicken sheds. Seasonal pluckers perhaps.

  In the fields beside us were crowds of Golden Plovers, colour and details brilliant with the light now behind us. Lobbed into the roadside crops lay a Prosecco bottle. It occurred to me that ten years ago this would have been no more likely than the Egyptian Geese, both Signs of the Times.

On the way home, two of us made a diversion to Hastings Cemetery in search of Hawfinches, 7 of which had been seen the previous day, and after a bit of strolling among the funereal yews, spotted one sitting in a bare tree – Showing Well, as they say tough, as usual, my attention was taken by tombs – the Robertsons (of the eponymous Street), the Ionides (formerly of Constantinople, late of Windycroft).


Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on September 13, 2017 by cliffdean

Following a day of uncharacteristically heavy rain, we were glad to get out at Dengemarsh on a bright and typical September morning, relishing as ever the first view from the slightly raised Springfield Bridge across the back of the RSPB reserve, over wildfowl, Cormorants, Common Terns and a cruising Marsh Harrier.

Big crowds of Lapwings kept surging up, trialing 3 Ruff just below. From high up in the blue came the call of Golden Plover – at first just one still with a black belly flashing in the sunshine but then a flock of maybe 100 which stuck around for the rest of the morning either circling semi-visibly in the sky or settling for a while on an island adding their fluting chorus to the wailing of Lapwings.

We soon began to pick out raptors across the horizon: Kestrel, Hobby, Buzzard, Marsh Harrier, and then high up a Carrion Crow was persistently harassing a smaller falcon  – a Merlin.

Another nice thing about coming in from Dengemarsh Road is that you meet very few people. The second we met at the crossroads by the hide (has this spot got a name?) was an RSPB guy who informed us that we’d missed some early morning action with a fall nearer the point – in fact there was a Wryneck still there at The Desert. It would be easy to locate since there would be a crowd of people watching it. While there have been occasions when I’ve really wished for such a crowd when fruitlessly searching for some interesting yet needle-in-a-haystack bird, I generally avoid them. The RXbirdwalks way is not to rush off after something supposedly more exciting but to visit a promising location and just see what’s there.

So we continued looking at a few warblers in the scrub and scanning the sky for birds of prey, and while watching a flock of 4 Buzzards, a big bird came gliding over the willows – an Osprey! There had been one or two about all week but – it’s not a zoo – you can’t be sure of seeing one but this bird stayed around for about 20 minutes, gliding, hovering & diving – inexpertly it seemed because after several unsuccessful lunges it caught a rather small fish and flapped off to consume it atop one of the many vertical structures Dungeness has to offer. A spectacular bird, one that I don’t see all that often and rarely as close as this, a useful opportunity to check the plumage details that made it (apart from the amateur fishing) a young bird.

It looked much closer at the time! Thanks to Stuart Barnes for the photo.

Reasoning that the open sky offered the best spectacle, we spent some time on the Viewpoint though by that time there were fewer birds in the air (apart from Golden Plovers) but a distant Peregrine put up a cloud of Starlings over at the chicken sheds. On the small pools to the west (I don’t know what they’re called either) we found Little Grebe, Sparrowhawk (8th raptor species) & Bearded Tits then, proceeding with effort over soft and sticky arable land, arrived at Brickwall Farm beside which 4 Whinchats and a very scruffy Stonechat perched in a weedy patch beside a skeletal barn.



Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on June 1, 2017 by cliffdean

For the previous couple of days, the forecast for Sunday had been one of uniterrupted sunshine, so I was a bit surprised, on arriving at Lydd, to note that the layer of cloud, rather than burning off, had formed a southern horizon smooth and livid with the promise of heavy rain. A check of the radar map showed a band as colourful as a bad bruise heading our way and by the time the last RXbirdwalker had arrived our various rain-avoidance strategies had been reduced by the first heavy drops and the flicker of lightning to Plan A i.e. sit it out in the car. Accuweather assured us that “rain would cease in 18 minutes”, which it did, upon which we proceeded down a deeply puddled Dengemarsh Road to Springfield Bridge.

As always, this approach allows a scan of the water and reeds, where, in addition to the usual waterfowl, we could see good numbers of Common Terns & Common Gulls and a brilliantly-lit f Marsh Harrier.While differentiating between songs of Reed & Sedge Warblers some Bearded Tits came flying past and then remained close to us, giving excellent close views. Much is the time we’ve wasted in the past, hoping for a brief glimpse of this bird, but here they were, almost as real as a photograph and pinging away loudly to imprint their call on those who didn’t already know it.

There were a lot of flowers and insects along the path too, and the yodelling of a territorial Redshank close by.

Four-spotted Chaser (and other wildlife photos)  by Stuart Barnes

Grass Vetchling

From the Dengemarsh Hide we looked out upon a raft on which were nesting several pairs of Common Terns, uneasy since accompanied by a pair of Herring Gulls. Ducking the dives of optimistic terns, the male HG sat patiently, awaiting the hatching of tern chicks which would provide a convenient buffet for its own young. An adjacent raft accommodated terns and a Common Gull, which appeared to co-exist peacefully. So far anyway.

It had become pretty windy as we approached the Viewpoint, when a brown bird appeared quite high up, approaching from ARC direction – a Bittern! – but dropped down before everyone could catch sight of it. From the mound we enjoyed more great views of both male & female Marsh Harriers, a few Swifts & House Martins and a rather more distant 2 Hobbies – fewer than expected but we did get a closer look later. A Common Whitethroat also sat up close by, prompting a sortie down as far as Christmas Dell where a Lesser Whitethroat was singing, in order to enjoy the comparison (and escape the wind). Well, we had an excellent opportunity to get used to its rattling song and could see exactly where it was – a couple of metres away in tall scrub – but just could not get a look at it – couldn’t even pick out its movements. As I always say, “It’s not a zoo.”


Turned out nice again?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on February 1, 2017 by cliffdean

Week after week accounts of RXbirdwalks are prefaced in true British fashion by reflections upon the unreliability of weather forecasts. Same this time: the clouds promising a miserable dark and maybe rainy morning quickly and unexpectedly peeled back to reveal a clear sky which reflected in the fabulous ink-blue water of Dengemarsh and shone from the pale-gold reeds.

So that’s got the meteo out of the way. But – year upon year these reports are of necessity repetitive: the seasons turn bringing with them more or less the same birds to more or less the same places. I could forget all that and go for the unexpected, joining the glum cavalcade of rarity chasers but that does not appeal to me. What does change, most often & most interestingly, is the human context. This has always interested me: the personal/family/social/political backdrop to these birds trips, bird walks, birdsong, bird sightings.

Exemplary writing of this kind is found in “Adventure Lit Their Star” by Kenneth Allsop.

But there’s also a well-known intention to use birds as an escape  from all of that – a reviving reconnection with the non-human world. I do this of course but in the same breath, as it were, criticise those who wilfully fail to notice the impact of politics upon the wildlife that they imagine to be free of all that. So…apart from the weather Saturday’s RXbirdwalk was influenced by this:


…and I’m really not sure that that’s going to turn out nice.


So while we were wandering the Dengemarsh trail enjoying the birds, the light, the soundscape, the future was blighted for hundreds of people who believed they were flying to a better one and it was Raining In My Heart. Apart from the beautiful Marsh Harriers, the fabulous ice-coloured Smew, the acrobatic male Bearded Tit Showing As Well As Anything my spirits were lifted by a scabrous cartoon by Steve Bell, standing on the shoulders of the giant James Gillray.

I would post it here,but since this is a Family Blog…


…though I’m not sure what’s on the TV. More acceptable in those days perhaps…