December 30th 2019 and we are knocking on the door at the end of the decade with this last post of the year.

The weather forecast yesterday suggested that, with a bit of luck, we might get a quiet day with the sun making an appearance.  By no means certain but that’s about the best we can hope for in December.  I decided to take a chance and pop across (2 hour drive) to the Somerset levels and the RSPB Ham Wall reserve on the Avalon marshes.  Can there be a more beautifully evocative name than Avalon?  Legend has it that this is where King Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, was forged.  The marshes here still have an air of mystery and in mid winter, it’s the season of the starling murmurations. This year, about half a million birds gather to roost in the reed beds and, on their way in, if you are lucky, they put on one of our great wildlife displays as they gather in massive weaving flocks.  The display today was very good with the great murmurations twisting and swirling across the marshland.  Here is one example with the iconic Glastonbury Tor (the fabled island of Avalon) in the background behind the golden reeds in the deepening twilight.  

It was a crowd-pleaser with many hundreds of folk, many with children, enjoying the gyrations from the raised embankment that forms the dry backbone of the reserve; nature’s version of a new year firework display.  As the crowds departed after sunset you could hear the chatter of enjoyment, between strangers and within families, of having participated in a shared experience.  Though, it’s fair to say the chatter of people was largely drowned by the collective chatter of hundreds of thousands of Starlings now hidden in the reeds for the night.  

Starlings over Avalon

However, it wasn’t all about Starlings.  I arrived at Ham Wall around midday and spent about four hours proceeding the murmuration sitting quietly in one of the hides.  I was treated to some contrasting views of the reserve’s winter birds.  Some of which I managed to photograph are below.  I also caught a fleeting (about 5 second) glimpse of a bittern across the reeds but too far away to photograph plus at least a couple of marsh harriers.  It might have been the visible presence of the harriers that set the starlings on edge and caused some of the murmerating.  

Female Goldcrest (our smallest native bird) on a willow sapling.

Great Crested Grebe fishing (a pearch)

And, the spectacle of the day excepting the starlings, a Great Egret landing at the edge of the reed beds at sunset.