Small beer at Stodmarsh and dipping at Dungeness
When the first tinges of autumn touch the early morning air, the expectations of increasing my British tick list grow. September and October are always full of promise and it is with an extra energy and enthusiasm that I venture out in the dimly lit morning. There are so many good places to go birding that the choice can sometimes be a bad thing. Do I go to Norfolk (again) for an arctic warbler or do I go to Hampshire for an Isabelline shrike? No, I thought, I’d go to sunny Kent for a Wilson’s phalarope. I suppose, I just like the word, Phalarope. It reminds me of something the Monty Python team would use to great effect, especially if it was dead. The dead Phalarope sketch. It may be that or it may have been because where the bird had been found is a wonderful reserve. Nestled in the Stour Valley, close to Canterbury is Stodmarsh, a wetland with a huge expanse of reed bed as well as woodland and grazing marsh. I also estimated that I could poodle over to Dungeness in the afternoon...