Heavenly Heathland
Wednesday morning, the sun wasn’t so much shining, as reclaiming its place in an azure sky that has remained hidden beneath a blanket of gunmetal grey for the last few months. It was warm without being unseasonably hot, calm without being stagnant and the clear winter sky meant the views opened up ceaselessly.
In short, a good day to be out!
I had a window in my work diary, and all too often these coincide with drizzly, gloomy afternoons when the office seems a convenient bolt hole. But today there was one place, and one place alone that time could be spent justifiably and profitably on such a worthy day to worship East Devon’s wilderness – our heaths.
These are pockets of habitat rarer than the tropical rainforests, globally important areas that lie substantially in the UK and a large proportion of that in the South West. So these are our countryside crown jewels and the District Council manages two beautiful examples of these treasures.
I headed up to Fire Beacon Hill, ostensibly to check how the reptile traps had fared through the winter months, but also to soak up the ambience and appreciate this special day. I wasn’t disappointed. With frost still clinging to the shadows, the hedgerows were full of garden birds, while the heather busted with site specialists.
I know I bang on about Fire Beacon Hill, the Pebblebeds, Trinity Hill, but I honestly believe we are sitting on something genuinely special here in East Devon and until every last one of our one hundred and thirteen thousand or so residents have at least ventured out onto one and made their own mind up about the matter, I will continue to bang this particular drum. Not that you can just pop out at any time, to witness the true spectacle, you have to put a little thought into a visit to ensure you get the most from your sojourn.
Time of year is imperative, as Winter and early Spring are a little bit non-descript on a heathland. A dazzling day is necessary to get the jaw-dropping experience I had last week, anything less will probably leave you feeling short changed. As the Spring progresses the heaths start to buzz, and it’s the late summer when they are set ablaze, metaphorically, with the blossoming of the heather.
But for now, you’ve got to pick a stunning day and if you do, you will not be sorry for spending your valuable time out on the heaths. As I spend some visits on my own and the other visits, leading groups of people around the countryside, I can vouch that one sees the most wildlife, birds in particular, if you perambulate quietly around the place.
Look at it as an indulgence, everyone needs a little time to themselves, to contemplate things; to wind-down, and spending this time out in the fresh air multiplies these benefits manifold.
Don’t just rely on your eyes either, anytime I am exploring a Local Nature Reserve I am searching the area as much with my ears as my eyes, and to a lesser degree my nose too – I draw the line at bending down to lick the paths however!
I accompanied a delightful class from East Budleigh Primary school last week, on a walk up the river Otter. I was there to add some insight into the estuary and river’s wildlife and geography, and at the very outset I pointed out something to the class to help them get more from the morning.
“If I was blindfolded and placed at a random point on the river, I would be able to tell where I was just by the sounds around me, by the time you get back to the school, you’ll be able to do this too.”
And so we did it. Stopping at a few choice locations and silently absorbing the world around us. When you start to really notice things, using your eyes, ears and nose, the world really comes alive. Listening out for the whistle of a wigeon, or the 'tring' of a teal meant that we were still at the brackish end of the river, the beating of sheep or the quack of a mallard indicated we were further up stream.
So while you unwind, strain your ears to search the very edges of your sensational sphere. Hearing the Morse Code of long-tailed *** precedes the tiny little birds by some moments, and you always hear the disruption of a sparrowhawk before you see the creature swoop over a hedge.
There are other animals which survive by not broadcasting their presence and detecting these is more of a hit-or-miss affair.
I was skirting the edge of a mown area of the heath, brushing down the reptile traps and checking they were still there, when a bird erupted from beneath my foot. Exploding out of the sun-bathed heather, this little snipe took flight for a short moment and silently dropped into the heather a few metres away. I only caught the briefest glimpse of its tail as it made off, but that was all I needed to confirm it as a jack snipe, a gorgeous bird seldom seen or heard. A snipe would have taken off with an audible “squelch” call, flying high and for some distance before pitching down. A jack snipe on the other hand gives rarely gives a flight call, and tends to shoot straight up and down again.
Finally, I would urge you to take your time when exploring. Most people tend to jump out of the car, stomp around a footpath with a sense of urgency and purpose, before getting back in the car and heading home. Grab the opportunity to be idle, dally and saunter at all possible times and if you can bear to settle down with your back against a tree, do so with relish. I sat beneath a grove of pines, on the soft scented needles, warmed by the sun and on eye level with trees further down the hillside.
Perfect place to look for goldcrests, I thought.
About five minutes later a tiny little green-backed bird with a sulphur stripe on the crown flew into the canopy above my head. I couldn’t stop myself beaming! The goldcrest is our smallest breeding bird and one of the most beautifully colourful little birds too. It picked its way through the branches above my head, searching for little bugs hiding in the foliage, piping all the time with its tiny whistling voice.
After an hour’s exploring I had sorted out my movements for the rest of the day and headed straight to my PC to pen this article, I’d had such a satisfying morning, I just had to tell someone about it!