Today I set off down to Shingle Street, which is kind of Dungeness Lite.
Brief geography lesson - the River Alde starts its estuary way inland, at Snape, and continues past Iken, my favourite bit. It nearly makes it out to sea at Aldeburgh but instead turns south and runs right down the coast past Orford, finally reaching the sea at Shingle Street. The culprit is a huge shingle spit - Orford Ness. In the 46 years I've been coming here and the 12 years I've lived here it has changed around a bit, parts of the old concrete causeway have fallen into the sea and the channel has shifted around a bit.
The storms a few years back knocked the end off the spit and relocated it onto the land side, so I wanted to see what the most recent storm had done.
Disaster! Huge parts of the spit have been washed away leaving an archipelago of islands and an underwater shingle reef. More has been deposited on the land to the south (longshore drift).
It was another gloriously sunny day, and not so cold, as I walked up the causeway. A dozen or more Skylarks, some actually going up and singing. A flock of about the same number of Twite swirling around twittering, and about half as many Linnets, plus a few Meadow Pipits and Stonechats. I was half hoping for Snow Buntings but no joy. There was a flock of Cormorants sitting on one of the islands looking like a cross between penguins and dinosaurs. I remembered a friend of a friend who was an Australian sailor, and who was most disappointed with Europe and the UK when he sailed here
"No fucking penguins, mate!"
I sat on the shingle ridge for a while failing to spot rare gulls or scoters, then walked south into the sun. There's an artwork consisting of a long and not very straight line of white shells painstakingly collected and laid across the shingle from the Coastguard cottages to where the sea used to be, and that and the strandline shows how much shingle has piled up from when it was created.
Strolled back along the road where there was several other birdwatchers looking for Short Eared Owls which are actually far from uncommon here, mainly in winter, though less so than back in the eighties, which I also failed to spot.
I drove back the pretty way with the heater on, and had a brainwave so diverted via the farm shop and bought the last four Gloucester Old Spot sausages in captivity, two of which which I grilled along with yesterday's reheated veggies and the addition of some purple sprouting to make a suitably wintery meal, which I ate early as the sun set magnificently, accompanied by several Robins singing and eventually the Blackbird again.
Then I read this
http://www.rspb.org.uk/community/placestovisit/minsmere/f/12440/t/193359.aspxhe saw all the stuff that wasn't there when I was. Ah well, them's the breaks!