When I rolled the dice and got Hockley Heath, I can't say that I was filled with a great sense of optimism and enthusiasm. But if you're determined to visit every square kilometre of your extended patch, and I am, you just have to bite the bullet.
At least there was plenty of sunshine on offer, although the north-westerly breeze is still a bit too brisk. I parked in the centre of the town, and noted two pairs of Common Swift flying low over the rooftops. A good omen perhaps.
My circuit took me south-eastwards in an anti-clockwise loop, and it had its moments. Who knew that a field containing a commercial crop of Christmas Trees would be so full of birds? Next to the Stratford Canal was just such a field, and it was jam-packed with territorial songbirds, including a singing Willow Warbler, and a singing Cuckoo. I didn't manage to actually see either bird, let alone photograph them, but a pair of Linnets was more obliging.
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| Linnet |
Further east the countryside became the traditional patchwork of small arable fields and dense copses. Ideal habitat for a singing Yellowhammer which given the parlous state of the species these days, I regarded as the bird of the day. I did see it, but didn't attempt to get a shot.
Other minor notables were a Blackcap feeding fledglings, a calling Bullfinch, a Jay carrying food, and a pair of Red-legged Partridges.
As for insects, these were the best...
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| Holly Blue |
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| Large Red Damselfly |
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