Day One – Yellow! Hurray! Let the show begin

A grey start that promised rain (promise kept by 10am). Regardless the Wild will just have to get on with it, for there are young to feed and there is food to be foraged for, ‘wet’ feathers or not!

As for me, Chat Moss will be visited and there WILL be brightness to find in the wild. Sure enough there it was, though it took quite a few paces to find on this grey morning.

A nicely overgrown corner of a field brimming with nettles, thistles and more offered a perfect spot to see the wild at its best.

Whitethroat churred, stonechat chattered, moths and butterflies flitted about, with all leading my eyes to a bright spot or two when a pair of yellow wagtail popped up to check on this lumbering form which had wandered into their territory.

In noting that the male had food in its bill, I swiftly absorbed his bright feathering and retreated to leave them to feed their hidden young.

Day Two - There is power in those wings

Really? Did these Butterflies actually start their (multi-generational) life in Africa???

I was simply admiring the beauty of one of many a hundred painted lady butterflies that have made it to Chat Moss this year, because there has been a once in a decade migration eruption of these so-called delicate winged flights of delight.

It caused me to reflect upon the real view we should have of nature, in which I look upon this frail frame of mine, with its aged problems, and have to accept that that the Nature we feel we can master has a far stronger grip on the world than we ever will.

I then returned my attention to this set of wings that lifted my spirits.

Look who dropped by

The rain could have kept me at home - only it never has before and why should today be any exception? If the Wild has to put up with such days, then so should I if only in solidarity with Chat Moss.

There would be something to report, I was sure of that, if only to state once more how my ‘rainproof’ gear failed to prevent the rain achieving its goal of soaking me through.

In truth I’m a big fan of rain out on Chat Moss for it keeps the LWT reserves nicely topped up with water aiding peatland restoration after decades of drainage.

Then on one of those rare periods when the rain took a pause a lapwing called out in alarm and almost directly above where I stood on Little Woolden Moss LWT Nature Reserve soared an immature white-tailed eagle.

This reserve is only 13 years old but the stories it can already tell of the LWT successes in bringing back the wild just gained a rather special tale to tell.

Tap, tap, tap - Stonechat

Tap Tap it-Tap tap it… I’ve heard it before to paraphrase Beatrix Potter and this alarm call was coming from the top of a birch tree.

This sound gave a shining example of how the LWT in buying (in 2012) and then steadily restoring a wildlife null peat-milled desert into Little Woolden Moss Nature Reserve we now have today, is working in  bringing back the wild.

Atop the birch tree sat an alert sentry warning her young of possible danger - The Wild being well aware of how mankind can be such a danger in the natural world.

The cause of the sound was a female stonechat in the breeding season, which would have been an impossible sighting only 13 years ago where nothing could exist on such a devastated landscape.

Now this insect rich re-vegetated landscape can support breeding stonechat and much more. It’s something I never believed could have  happened in my lifetime let alone a mere decade or so…now that’s a wild thought!

A wild tea break 

Little Woolden Moss nature reserve -  after a soggy week wandering Chat Moss I decided on a “sit and watch” session from the  western edge of the reserve.

The promise of sunshine evaporated into a busy set of clouds and this seemingly pausing any winged activity over the reserve.

I wasn’t disappointed, for a mere decade or so ago I would have been affronted by a desert of peat being sucked up by milling machines instead of the sweep of vegetation that I peered across today.

It was a restful, peaceful and breeze swept landscape that gave me that mindfulness those who wish us to slow down in this modern world say all can achieve if we let The Wild into our lives.

Once restfulness was achieved the wild then started to introduce activity starting with a marsh harrier floating by, easily avoiding the carrion crow that were chasing it.

A sedge warbler kicked up a fuss of song from a birch tree whilst a water rail squealed from within a nearby reedbed.

Linnet, swift, meadow pipit and more then occupied the sky, to a background of singing willow warbler and reed bunting.

It occurred to me that perhaps on my arrival this landscape was having its tea-break from which it had now emerged fully rejuvenated.

Day 6 - Scolding breaks my reverie

A track to follow. One I first meandered along 60 years ago and a breeding bird survey to complete for the LWT.

The LWT hadn’t bought this now superbly restored-back-to-the-wild Astley Moss Nature Reserve at the time. (Well done LWT for now being the proud owners)

As ever when I return to this track I go in reverie mode, thinking of the two much older friends who introduced me to this area all those decades ago. 

Both have passed but are present in my thoughts on such visits, allowing my mind to meander until the present suddenly grabbed my attention and put me right up to date.

This reverie breaking moment was created by a whitethroat which started to scold me for having the temerity to wander past its nest site amongst a stand of nettles and brambles.

Mind reset to “now mode”, I hurried by this irate summer visitor—a survey to complete.

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