It’s grey, wet, cold and breezy. Fortunately the mud is deeper and clingyer than ever so it’s hard work, and we keep warm. Lots of rain last night, everyone’s asking when is it all going to end. Some parts of the paths are now quite difficult to navigate, either because of standing water or because the mud is well above ankle depth sucking at your boots as you go.

A high point on the walk was seeing five Roe Deer in the field some way off carefully watching us to make sure we weren’t threatening. The didn’t seem to worry too much, so stayed put all the time we were there.

Although it’s visually grey there’s a brightly coloured soundscape. The tinkling of Skylarks is all around, it travelled so far it was hard see the bird fluttering in the sky. The plaintive, almost ghostly, sound of the Curlew is also commonplace as the birds are pushed
off the mud by the rising tide. They’re flying away from the harbour to find a good spot inland to roost. From right over the other side of the harbour there’s the occasional drumming of a Great Spotted Woodpecker, amazing how the sound carries on the wind.

On the water there’s a long line of Brent Geese, stretching almost a mile, along the waters edge relied by a few Oyster Catchers and the occasional Curlew. Amongst the few waders out were a couple of Ringed Plover still in their winter plumage, welcome visitors to this part of the harbour.