Species of the Month: Rabbit

Ed Parnell, Norfolk Wildlife Trust

 

Rabbit, photo by WildStock

Visit the Brecks Living Landscape in spring and you’re sure to see one of the UK’s most well-loved creatures, the rabbit – an animal familiar from the books of Beatrix Potter and Richard Adams’ Watership Down. The best thing is that, unlike most other mammal species, your sighting won’t be restricted to a brief blur fleeing away through the trees, but virtually-guaranteed views of hundreds of cute creatures contentedly feeding in front of you.

Although rabbits seem an integral part of the British countryside, they aren’t actually native to the UK. It’s thought their presence dates back to the Romans (who kept them here in small numbers), though there is also some evidence that pre-ice age populations may have existed. However, rabbits really began to flourish after the arrival of the Normans, when warrening – the management of rabbit enclosures – became a highly-profitable profession, with rabbits farmed for their manure, meat and fur.

From the 12th century Breckland was a stronghold for the rabbit industry and had one of the country’s largest concentrations of warrens – the dry, sandy ground, relatively sunny climate and sparse rainfall were ideal, mimicking the favoured conditions of the rabbit’s native Mediterranean. Rabbits also began to escape from their penned areas and establish feral populations, though warrens continued to be an important part of the local landscape over the following centuries. Indeed, during the late Victorian period the entire bowler hat industry in London depended on rabbit felt, with three felting factories in Brandon employing 500 people.

During the twentieth century, demand for rabbit products diminished and, with the conversion of much of the Brecks to forestry plantations after WWI, rabbits became regarded as a pest. The Forestry Commission employed up to 30 men locally to control them, though a more devastating reduction of their population resulted from the arrival of myxomatosis in the 1950s, which almost eradicated the species.

Today, rabbit numbers are recovering and at Norfolk Wildlife Trust reserves such as East Wretham and Weeting Heaths the animals are actively encouraged for their vital grass-nibbling, which keeps the heathland at the perfect height for maximum biodiversity. Indeed, a 2011 study led by scientists from UEA showed that 12,500 species of plants and animals are found in the Brecks, including 28% of the UK’s rare species – all in an area covering less than 1% of the country’s land area. 

So, why not hop over to the Brecks this spring to enjoy the area’s unique wildlife – and the rabbit-rich landscape!

NWT East Wretham Heath is located 5km north of Thetford on the A1075. It is open all year and entrance is free. NWT Weeting Heath is just west of Weeting village (near Brandon) on the minor road towards Hockwold cum Wilton. It is open from April to September, with a small entrance charge for non-NWT members.

Holme - The first decent push of migrants

 The day started clear and sunny with a slight south-west wind as I started a breeding bird line transect at 0600hrs. Migration was not that obvious, but my first swallow and a few high meadow pipits and linnets suggested something may be happening at nearby Hunstanton Cliffs. Andy Brown was indeed having a decent morning, the greater height on the cliffs providing closer views of the birds moving south overhead, read his account on Trektellen.

  Back at Holme the day provided some nice highlights and included a red kite over The Firs, harassed by four sparrowhawks, five common buzzards over the marshes, 37 avocets, a ruff west, small numbers of swallows, sand martins and a few house martins west, two tree pipits west, three yellow wagtails with the konick ponies, a black redstart at the Saltings car park, two brief ring ouzels and a firecrest (also Saltings CP).

  Tomorrow looks to be a good day with strong overnight south-westerlies, and a clear looking Spain combined with mild air might produce good numbers British bound migrants, and  perhaps a few over-shooting species like hoopoe or alpine swift!

Conservation needs both scientists and artists

David North, Head of People and Wildlife

Nature conservation isn’t a science or an art. It’s an idea. An idea about our relationship with nature. An idea about how we relate to the other species with which we share our planet and how we treat the natural world.

Nature conservation is most often linked to a science perspective. There are probably more people employed in conservation with a science background than with an arts background. Much of our conservation jargon is, or at least sounds, scientific: sites of special scientific interest, biodiversity, species, habitats, National Vegetation Classification surveys, ecosystem services. The language of science. Classifying the natural world into boxes seems a sciency thing to do!

Don’t get me wrong I’m not suggesting that good science isn’t vital to protect nature and save endangered species. Science has informed conservation massively. It’s science based surveys, research and statistics which tell us about biodiversity loss, both globally and locally. It’s science which helps inform the management techniques which can restore habitats.It’s science which can monitor the impact of pollutants, help us understand the causes and cures for climate change, discover ways to control non-native invasive species, and help us ensure that conservation action achieves real results.

However while science is necessary for conservation it’s not the whole story.  If conservation is about changing attitudes then perhaps its artists who have the skills to speak to people’s hearts and help people care. When you think of the big five drivers of biodiversity loss: habitat loss, climate change, over-exploitation of natural resources, human introductions of invasive alien species and pollution then what do they have in common?  Surely they are all the product of human actions and their solution is about changing human behaviour. Perhaps nature conservation is more about us than about nature.

Artists, more than scientists, may have the skills to bring about a change of perception of how we relate to nature. Surely it’s our hearts that motivate us more than our heads. Artists are brilliant at communicating in the language of feelings, whereas science deliberately avoids this language.

What have I learnt working in nature conservation? That conservation is fundamentally about people. About our relationship with nature. That changing people’s attitudes and communicating in ways that people can relate to is achieved as effectively by artists as by scientists. Perhaps we need more artists working in conservation to bring about the changes to the human heart without which conservation will never truly succeed.

I’ll end this post with a quote from Tanaka Shozo who was born in Japan in 1841:

‘The care of rivers is not a question of rivers, but of the human heart.’

Signs of spring at Hickling

Caroline de Carle, Hickling Visitor Centre

As we sit and look out at a rather wintery, grey scene at Hickling - in the middle of April - it would be all too easy to feel more than a little glum. But NO! The signs of spring are here in abundance, but you just have to look and listen that bit more closely. 

Brimstone butterfly, photo by Liz Dack

There, see, a flash of yellow. Not one of our blousey daffodils but a beautiful male yellowhammer in full spring plumage, singing his sweet song of "bread and no cheese" to attract a mate. Another flash of yellow: a male brimstone, making the most of brief spells of sunshine to show of his acidic green colour as he seeks out nectar from the few flowering plants in bloom. 

Early sources of nectar and pollen are so vital to our insects, especially when the weather is far from warm. Emerging queen bumblebees have been making the most of the pollen-rich willow catkins to build up their energy on cold day and nights.

A few spring visitors are back; chiffchaff, redshank and garganey are all present but not in great numbers yet. And what of our reserve specialities? Three male bitterns have been booming since early April and establishing territories. Our cranes are also busy setting up home and have treated visitors to some noisy and spectacular fly-overs. Bearded tits are still very elusive but hopefully some fine weather will get them singing and pinging into breeding action.

So you see, there is always something exciting to see and hear at NWT Hickling Broad National Nature Reserve, but sometimes you have to make just a little bit more effort to find it. It's always worth the wait.

Bat Bunker

Paul Waterhouse,  Assistant Field Officer Breckland

Those of you who have visited East Wretham Heath will have probably noticed a number of buildings and bunkers dotted around the reserve. These are remnants of East Wretham Heath's former life as an Air Field during the Second World War and are a very important reminder of the reserves and our own history. The buildings themselves are not obtrusive but are in fact very subtle and seem to blend into the landscape of the reserve. Over the years they have turned from harsh military building into valuable habitats of their own, supporting a wide range of flora and fauna. 
There is one bunker in particular that the Brecks team have made some minor alterations to, with the intention of creating bat hibernaculum. Ten of the UK’s fourteen bat species have been recorded in the Brecks and research suggests that artificial or man-made structures are becoming more and more important as hibernation sites for a number of these species.
 

The transformation from air raid shelter to bat bunker only took one day and the materials came in well under £100. The first job was to create artificial bat niches in the bunker including bat bricks and wooden structures, which will provide roosting habitat. 

We then covered the floor of the bunker with sand and gravel which will help to maintain humidity. Both temperature and humidity are important factors in a bat hibernaculum, along with darkness and lack of disturbance. 

There were initially two entrances to the bunker: the one you can see in the photo and also an escape hatch. In order to prevent a draught running through the hibernaculum, which is another unfavourable factor, we had to block off the escape hatch. Finally we covered the main entrance but without forgetting to leave a gap to allow bats to access the bunker. 

I don’t think this renovation project will be making Grand Designs, but these simple changes could provide a valuable habitat for species such as Brown long-eared, Daubenton, Natterer’s and Barbastelle.

Cley Catch-up: 3 April 2013

Barry Madden, Volunteer Bird Guide at NWT Cley Marshes

Another day of bitter, biting, easterly winds that whipped across Cley Marshes without pause, and gave scant regard to those folk trying to enjoy their Easter holidays. But as compensation, the sun shone all day from a brilliant blue sky, displaying the rich tones of the dancing reeds to full effect.  My early morning chat with the reserve staff had, as its theme, the lamentable lack of migrant birds seen so far this spring. It seems the whole coastline between Salthouse and Cley village is still devoid of the expected wheatears, sandwich terns and chiffchaffs. Things will change soon. With a swing in wind direction to the south-east the floodgates are sure to open. This ritual of mild frustration takes place every year at this time. It is something to do with the longing for warmer days and the vibrant sights and sounds of the spring season. We simply want winter to release its lingering grip and free us from having to step outside bedecked in layer upon layer of thick clothing. We long to be free!

After loitering in the comfort of the visitor centre for as long as I could, I had to step outside and brave the elements, and you know it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. My task as a volunteer at Cley is to visit the hides dotted around the reserve and assist people with any query they have on identification of birds or other wildlife, or the management of the area. Sometimes I help Bernard Bishop, much revered warden of these iconic marshes, with his regular ‘Walk with the Warden’ sessions. It helps when there are two of us pointing things out and chatting with visitors. I always make time to walk the perimeter of the reserve at least once a day, when I can stop and chat to people who prefer the fresh Norfolk air to being sat in a hide. I also need the exercise.

I was arrested in my musings today by a subtle movement from a small pile of earth beside the path of the West Bank. Thinking my eyes were playing tricks I waited for a few minutes, and there again the earth shifted! I realised I was watching the activity of a mole busily excavating a tunnel in the moist soil. Once or twice, this seldom seen mammal almost broke the surface and came into view, but sadly it must have been camera shy. However it was interesting to witness a mole hill in the making.

Shortly after, with the empty beach stretched out before me, the full force of the arctic blow could be appreciated. The boiling sea, a swirl of churning green, grey and muddy brown crashed at an acute angle onto the shingle. Even the path of the mighty waters were being shaped by the relentless force of the wind. I often wonder at these times how anything can possible survive these conditions, and in answer I shortly came upon a couple of large gulls pecking away at a floating corpse of a razorbill. Whilst I was busy snapping a few photographs, I realised there were at least two more fresh corpses being rolled around in the spume. Within five minutes, five razorbills were unceremoniously deposited on the beach. I collected them to see whether any had rings, or whether there were obvious signs as to their demise, but could find no clues. It is quite possible the broiling seas over an extended period simply resulted in these birds being unable to feed and so they starved. I guess the answer to my question is that not everything does survive in these conditions; the harsh reality is that wild creatures are always a short step away from death. Food for hungry gulls though.

Despite it still feeling like January, there were clear signs of the changing seasons today. I saw oystercatchers mating, skylarks singing and a grey-lag goose sitting atop her nest plumb in the middle of the area of reed cut in this winter’s harvesting. A small passage of ringed plover was in progress, with 20 or so birds gathering on Simmond’s Scrape to feed up prior to moving on, perhaps to Greenland or Iceland. Overwintering wildfowl were certainly fewer in number, with most now having departed to their northerly breeding grounds. Shelduck were disputing territory and avocets were beginning to adopt their usual aggressive stance towards anything that moves.

I always end the day feeling thankful that I am able to wander these fascinating wetlands, often being able to witness cameos of wildlife interactions that few people are fortunate enough to see.  And of course there is always next time to look forward to!

Holme - some migration at last

  Yesterday evening the wind finally moved round from the never ending cold easterlies to south-westerlies, and although it was due to be a short lived change it was hoped that there would at least be a change in some of the bird life on the site.

 I started the day (0620-0820hrs) on Hunstanton Cliffs with Chris Mills and although there was a steady trickle of goldfinches, meadow pipits and pied wagtails a hoped for swallow, sand martin did not materialise. The full count will appear on Trektellen a dutch migration website in a few days, take a look at it as it really does give you a good idea whats on the move over most of western Europe.

 Back at Holme it was noticeable some chiffchaffs (4) had arrived, along with a black redstart, there were several blackbirds around, held back migrants waiting for the weather to change in their favour. Brambling, siskin, woodcock, red-breasted mergansers and a female merlin reminded us it still felt like winter! By afternoon the wind had switched back to an easterly, ending any hope of further arrivals during the next few days.

  A change back to south-westerlies and further arrivals is not likely until Friday this week!

The Weeting Warden’s Diary

Simon Thompson: Summer Warden Weeting Heath NNR

 Weeting Heath NNR, photo by Simon Thompson

Quite a start to the season! I don’t know who was more shocked to be surrounded by two inches of the white stuff; the rabbits or me. It’s been a cold but picturesque few weeks and now that the icicles have melted and the sun is making a brave effort to break through the icy north-easterly blasts, it’s great to see that the weather hasn’t blown away people’s enthusiasm for visiting the Brecks.

Lots of fearless fleece-clad visitors have enjoyed our three-mile forest walk this Easter weekend, providing great opportunities to go hunting (in the least violent sense of the word) for woodlark amongst the young pines. Quite sensibly those stone curlews which have now made it back from their wintering grounds in Southern Europe and Africa are keeping well out of the wind and are proving elusive… but there’s no point in watching wildlife if you don’t like a good challenge! Only a short while spent in the hides has usually rewarded visitors with green woodpeckers, common curlew and lapwing busily feeding on the Heath and the exploits of the rabbits and stoats always make for entertaining viewing. In the next couple of weeks I’ll be digging a new pond in front of the woodland hide, hopefully it will draw crossbills down from the pines to drink and bathe and provide some excellent photo opportunities.

In spite of a distinctly wintery feel in the air, spring is on its way here at Weeting. Two brown hares were sat on the heath basking in the late evening sun yesterday and I’m very happy to report that the first two chiffchaffs of the season were spotted this morning; perhaps I can pack away the thermals at last…

Bird watching at Cley Marshes: February and March

 Barry Madden, Volunteer Bird Guide at NWT Cley Marshes

The cold weather of late has certainly retarded breeding activity on Cley Marshes. Avocet numbers built up during late February and early March, but there are still no serious nesting attempts. I watched some birds today from Bishop’s hide half-heartedly prospecting muddy sections of the islands, but it didn’t come to much. Most of these elegant summer visitors were still huddled together, face to wind, eyes closed and probably wondering what on earth they were doing spending their days being buffeted by the relentless, biting easterly wind when they could be jetting off to Mallorca for the Easter holidays. Or perhaps that was just me!  A sure sign that the mating urge is not yet strong enough was evidenced when a marsh harrier – a superbly marked female - lazily floated over the scrape, totally unmolested by these normally super-aggressive waders. Things will change soon; a couple of warm days and the sap will rise.

A brief, but ultimately mildly deflating, diversion took the form of a snipe of questionable identity. Jack snipe was pronounced, and certainly the brown and black mottled bird hunkered down between lumps of mud did seem very small. This sleepy bird had its beak firmly tucked away with head markings obscured by dead grasses, and for a little while hopes were raised. But then the bird stretched and yawned, revealing a creamy central crown stripe and a bill of proportions no diminutive jack snipe would ever be lucky enough to possess. Initial disappointment soon turned to appreciation of a very worthy second prize; it is not often you get a chance to have a really good, close look at a snipe of any species. And what a beautiful creature it was. Contrary to expectations the bird began to feed along the dyke edge totally unconcerned by the jabbering of us assembled birders and the staccato clicking of camera shutters. Nowadays occupying hides can feel akin to sitting in an office and being surrounded by bespectacled secretaries furiously grinding out 120 words per minute as myriad trigger-happy photographers try to capture that elusive award winning shot. Not to everybody’s taste, but it does mean that a craft, once the privilege of a few, can now be enjoyed by all – and you can get quite good photographs and put them in things like blogs.

Common Snipe, photo by Barry Madden

A walk around the reserve perimeter revealed good numbers of brent geese still present. Amongst them were a few of the pale-bellied race hrota, and the curious leucistic individual with a muted light brown plumage that has been with us all winter. The reliable purple sandpiper could be easily seen probing in the short grass margins of the pool by the beach, and a few goldfinches were braving the chill to bedeck the shingle ridge with colour. Certainly a charming thing to see.

Whilst I was waiting (in vain) for lapwings to display and fall victim to my own camera lens, a ring-tail hen harrier spiralled past heading swiftly westwards. Of a much slimmer build than the resident marsh harriers, these fine raptors can occasionally be encountered around the reserve. Most are simply passing through, but sometimes one will linger and hunt over the rough grassland. There was once a winter roost on Salthouse Heath, but I believe this has been forsaken. However, they can still be seen regularly at Hickling raptor roost which is a marvellous spectacle and an excellent way to conclude a day’s birding.

I was shown evidence of the continued presence of another bird of prey by Carl Brooker, who has made a welcome return as Assistant Summer Warden. He pointed out a freshly deposited pellet of a barn owl outside Bishop’s hide when we briefly caught up at the end of the day. Barn owls have enlivened many a bleak winter day here, with regular sightings along the coastal path, especially early in the morning. A couple of weeks ago I was lucky enough to be able to creep quite close to one of these delicately spangled creatures and take a few snaps. Is there a more beautiful bird?

Barn owl, photo by Barry Madden

Despite the teeth clenching blasts of arctic air, the day was actually rather pleasantly sunny. It has been an awfully long while since we last experienced anything approaching warmth, but for a few minutes in late afternoon the rays of the spring sun tickled my face and I was able to discard my hat and gloves. Thus liberated I could bask in the glory of only needing three layers of clothing to keep me from turning completely blue. For a short while spring was most definitely in the air. A shallow foundation but one on which my love affair with this wonderful slice of Norfolk’s coastal landscape continues to be built.

Migration News from Holme

 Another desperate day for bird migration, the easterly winds continue and show no signs of abating. No visible migration from Hunstanton Cliffs since 5th March!

 Today at Holme a few grounded meadow pipits (15) most with the Konick and Dartmoor  ponies, not even a pied wagtail! On the marshes at least five different marsh harriers, little egret, peregrine, ten avocets on the pools and a tree sparrow west (NOA). A sad find today was another dead barn owl on Holme Marsh, the third to have been found dead in as many weeks, the relentless cold easterlies have really effected the barn owls hunting success, two were ringed and may well turn out to be local birds.