NORFOLK COAST GUARDIAN 2021


ACT FOR NATURE 5


example of how they are taking a creative approach to addressing a pollution prob- lem, celebrating positive benefits rather than shutting things down or being dra- conian.


It is always a great bonus to


have the role of art acknowledged as a force in changing attitudes and habits and inspiring good sustainable environ- mental practice. So, for GroundWork to be involved in helping, via poetry, to address some of the problems of species collapse was very welcome. Quickly the weekend sold out. Karen Eng has run workshops for us before and is building a loyal following. But also, I think peo- ple really valued being able to use their writing skill to do some good for nature.” Karen Eng said: “It seemed a radical experiment: when I proposed a weekend poetry workshop to convene poets specif- ically to celebrate these five key species, I was unsure of the outcome. After all, poems can’t be forced to a deadline, and, especially during lockdown, many of us have been physically far removed from the animals and their habitat. Would poets really want or be able to carry out the research required and generate poems in such a short time?”


“I needn’t have worried. To my aston-


ishment, not only did the workshop sell out within days, but by the time I was headed for bed the night after the first day’s session, poems were already hit- ting my inbox.”


“Coming in a delightful range of unique styles and voices, the poems writ- ten during the weekend offer illuminat- ing, heartfelt ways to access the wonder, pathos and humour of the creatures the NCP has chosen to highlight. Such is nature’s power to inspire – and the will- ingness of artists to step up on its behalf.”


1 LITTLE TERN


Little Pickie’s heroic journey


HABITAT


Helping this bird of the coastal strip will also benefit ringed plover and other beach nesting birds, which lay their eggs directly on the ground with little protection.


HABITS Norfolk name is ‘Little Pickie’, because the way they skillfully ‘pick’ fish from the sea. They weigh the same as a tennis ball. The male carries a fish to attract a mate; and they live – and breed – into their


20s; migrating to West Africa every year. The National Trust report that in 2014, a little tern was found to have died at Blakeney, having been ringed as a chick in Lincolnshire 21 years previously. The bird, a female, had an egg inside, so was still breeding at 21, having migrated between England and Africa 19 times during her life. This was the oldest little tern ring recovery, until the Farne Islands found one 21 years and 10 months old soon afterwards.


ISSUES


Disturbance by humans and predation, by kestrels for example. ‘Where people go, nests fail’ say experts. The British breeding population is now thought to be less than 2,000 pairs, having declined by 25% since the 1980s – despite efforts. Last year although some areas reported stable numbers, of 55 nesting pairs in Winterton there were no surviving chicks from an entire breeding season.


WHAT YOU CAN DO Look out for fenced off areas of the beach and avoid them; keep dogs under close control. Walk on the strand line near the sea rather than up on the shingle.


NORFOLK WILDLIFE TRUST CONDITION CHECK ‘Norfolk is a significant county for the little tern, they breed on several beaches along the coast and where possible are protected by a number of conservation bodies including the Norfolk Wildlife Trust:


SWEET MUSIC by Melinda Appleby


Dawn breaks pink across the mudflats thin lemon bands slicing sky from sea, night leaches from the land, tide sucking sinking down. Salt-smelling, mud-dabbling geese wake from their winter roost, necks up heading to the runway, jostling, expectant.


Far out container ships slip by unheard.


Sun flushes across a lens of cloud, geese press forward, little test jumps, taxiing to take-off, up, up, into ragged skeins threading across the eastern sky. Hundreds, thousands, calling, weaving black-stitched music above the saltings heading south in search of sugar beet.


Below, redshank pipes into now-empty marsh.


Fly with them, as sinuous creeks ease into hedged fields, spilling their song down in a wild goose morning, only a lone wildfowler sees them go. And here, where the harvester yesterday left the sliced green heads of beet, they gather feeding, fattening, blessing our sweet tooth.


And lorries take the lumpy roots to Wissington.


Geese spill down, whiffling to lose height, dropping, dropping, gliding in to land and facing the wind, pink feet drop, calling, wink-wink, we’re here. Soft mushroom-brown plumage, legs and bill dusk pink, they paint their way across the field as early light fades away.


continued on page 6


BARBASTELLE BAT Nocturnal mammal; stronghold


in Norfolk and throughout area of outstanding natural beauty, with links to historic and cultural buildings, a range of habitats, from woodland edges to farmland and freshwater bodies; will also benefit other bat species and invertebrates. Issues: development and lack of darkness.


“They’re back – the pinks” voices cry, yapping delight.


Far out container ships slip by unheard. Below, redshank pipes into now-empty marsh. And lorries take the lumpy roots to Wissington. “They’re back – the pinks” voices cry, yapping delight. Watch in awe when pinkfeet fly making our winter landscape sing.


PINK FOOT by Rob Knee


I waited for you, standing sentry on Cromer pier that points like a damp finger, windward and to where, over the slate-grey chest of ocean, you came at last:


Flying low, in delta formation, far beneath the radar of coastal warning posts disguised as golf balls, not watching for geese, but looking North and East.


HARBOUR (COMMON) SEAL


A marine mammal, more vulnerable than the


Grey seal, but the latter will stand to benefit


from the focus. Summer pupping, but observed all year round; very popular with visitors. Issues: disturbance, especially by dogs.


My watering eyes later cast upwards as you flew south in pulsing skeins, wheezing and resolute, outbound, to stand and feed impassively on Broadland beet fields.


Once, I followed you to Snettisham to try to catch your homecoming, to hear the familiar cacophony of greetings, but I just missed the fleeting magic of your twilight convocation.


I was left alone with the last flames of a sunset


that tinged the copses in the West to a coal-black silhouette, and with the steady hiss of an Arctic sea playing idly with the shingle bank.


David Tipling


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40