River and downs

It is breezy on this morning’s walk by the Arun, with no mist clinging to the valley as it did two days back. Then the river held seven Goosanders -- classic visitors to the river on mist-ridden days in November.

Today’s weather conditions are not propitious. Yet there are four Goosanders in much the same place as two days back, swimming and diving on the straight and narrow stretch of the river opposite the path to Warningcamp. As then, all are immatures or females, their distinctive combination of frosted white and grey topped by rusting brown a welcome sight on an otherwise quiet day. They must be part of the same group and, having been here three days now, may stay a while longer.

It has been a good couple of weeks for sightings, with a Cattle Egret on the water meadows by Lyminster, eight Hawfinches in the Rewell, and a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker in Arundel Park. Best of all, maybe, was yesterday, when on a ridiculously warm and windless late afternoon three ringtail Hen Harriers hunted at close range for an extended period by the dewpond below the Burgh.

More often than not Hen Harriers are seen only briefly on the downs, a distant shape on a lightless winter day. Not so yesterday, when the bright sun and proximity accentuated the intricacy and variety of the harriers’ plumage, and the artful complexity of their predatory flight.

It had been months since my last visit to the Burgh, and bird activity on the circular route from Amberley station via Rackham Banks, Wepham Down, Canada Barn and North Stoke had been muted until the Hen Harriers put in an appearance. Finches and thrushes were present but in small numbers, partridges were noisy but for the most part hidden, and raptors, while visible, were not in great numbers.

Nor, apart from calling Tawny Owls, were any owls seen or heard on the downs or on the journey back to the station. But the trek through the growing darkness passed quickly accompanied by the memory of the harriers.