Reflections

I'm torn. My favourite man-made landmark on the estuary gets blown to kingdom come in the morning, and I really haven't made up my mind whether to watch the fall of this old friend or not. You see, not only do (did) I look at it every day, I have been lucky enough to look down from the top of it a couple of times.

The external safety lights needed routine inspection, and the sparkies had passed comment on the number of dead birds behind the fittings to the Environmental Initiatives Officer. Having passed the medical to say fit enough for the stairs, I was allowed to accompany them on their trips. The two poor quality snaps reproduced below are 'x-rated' record shots of, first, the number of corpses that could be recovered on one six-monthly inspection and, second, the chimney nesting platform so thoughtfully provided by the owners but being used, rather ungratefully, as a larder, by the birds responsible- Peregrines.

Contrary to many birders' beliefs, the Peregrines never actually nested on the chimney- that was some distance elsewhere, but the chimney made for a great hunting perch, towering some 802 feet over a dozen "football stadium floodlights" which lit up the entire site all night long, making passing birds easy targets. The peregrines could be busy at night, often to be heard on the wing calling, by the small team of bird ringers arriving to set nets pre-dawn.

When their feeding was good, the breast meat might be all that was taken or, sometimes, just the brain. The adults would also bring their young to the chimney to teach hunting skills by having them fly out to snatch a deliberately dropped kill. So, while the older corpses were a matted mess to try to identify, any fresher kills were much easier. Waders featured highly; Woodcock, Snipe, Jack Snipe, Lapwing, Golden Plover, Knot, Dunlin... Water Rail and Little Grebe also featured, land birds included Skylark and Quail, Little Tern was on the menu, and, much to the annoyance of some, even a rarity, a male Little Bittern (not much chance of that plumage sneaking past under the floodlights).

40 plus species noted on my visits if I recall correctly- though my notes are long gone, and the ringing station logbook is probably somewhere in storage gathering dust. The records were copied in to the county ornithological society at the time, though full details never made print, as station security was on 'high alert' due to terrorist threats. Part of the visiting arrangements were that the ringing team had to avoid publicity and not attract 'extra public' to the fenceline (though news of the Little Bittern did go out some time after the event to provide a story at the time of the first 'No Aiport at Cliffe' Campaign- no birder really wants to 'tick' rehab birds, yet alone one way beyond any veterinary help).

Great memories. Certainly cured me of my fear of heights. What the heck, the chimney is on north side of the estuary and I do only bird the south side nowadays- I will go and watch it fall. Maybe.

The view to Allhallows

Grain village

Smithfield Marsh

2002, 244 metres up

2016, one metre down