I’ll never tire of watching wildlife.  Whether it’s the birds around the feeding station in our garden, whales and dolphins far from land, grouse on the high moors or hoverflies around wildflowers, I’m fascinated by it all.  There are some species though that are so ethereal and attention-grabbing that I’ve often seen clients literally transfixed watching them.

I collected Steve and Sue from The Swan and we set off north to begin our exploration of the Northumberland coast and its wildlife.  Waders dominated, as they have done for a few weeks now; Ringed Plover, Curlew, Lapwing, Common Snipe, Golden Plover and Dunlin are all birds of the high moorland in the spring, and the coastal strip for most of the rest of the year.  These annual visitors were alongside Ruff and Black-tailed Godwit, which don’t breed in Northumberland (but probably could!) and the ever expanding (northwards, not outwards) Little Egrets. Grey Herons seemed to be everywhere that we looked, and Goosanders were lazing on a midstream rock as Salmon gorged themselves on the plethora of flies forming a thick film on the river’s surface.  Skeins of Canada and Greylag Geese were heading to roost as dusk approached and we searched without success for an Otter, but a nocturnal bird, putting in an appearance in bright early evening sunlight, was the equal of any television documentary.  Sue spotted it first, as it hovered noiselessly over a small reedbed listening for the tell-tale rustle of a small mammal.  It pounced, then rose carrying a mouse and flew back to its hungry brood.  This has been a good year for our Barn Owls, with many pairs having second broods.  Soon it was out again, quartering, hovering and plunging before lifting again with prey.  Eventually we watched as it perched on a fence post.  Beautiful and deadly in one pale ghostly form.