The last days of April on the North Norfolk coast should be filled with the joys of spring. But today feels more like February, with red skies and temperatures not even trying to climb within touching distance of 10 degrees. But signs of the new season are omnipresent, albeit subdued.
Mother geese crouched down and brooded this year’s first chicks in the warm embrace of their breast feathers to protect them from the cool North Sea breeze. House swallows, newly arrived summer immigrants, fly over a pond and dive, collecting insects on their wings. And as the cascading sound of a willow warbler tumbles from a hidden perch, the bird does its best, albeit hesitantly, to bring spring joy to this winter day.
Even so, non-seasonal conditions make a particularly heavy-bodied, long-necked bird even more exotic. Standing almost a meter tall on sturdy black legs, this bird’s plumage is pure white, except for the saffron dust on its breast. Its dark beak flattens into a bronze-tipped spatula that the bird dips into the water and sweeps from side to side in search of spiny fish. The movement animates the crest of feathers that sprout from the back of its head, making them bounce like a feathery starburst.
The bird is a spoonbill: an unusual sight in Britain at the best of times, and this one looks immaculate in its breeding dress. I’m in the Holkham National Nature Reserve, whose vast coastal wetland has been home to the nation’s first (and largest) colony of these birds for nearly 300 years. Unlike little cattle egrets and great white egrets, which also breed at Holkham, spoonbills did not arrive here through range expansion driven by climate change; They were part of the UK’s native avifauna until the 1600s, when they became extinct due to hunting and habitat loss.
Joining me this afternoon is Holkham senior warden Andy Bloomfield, who explains how the recolonization of spoonbills occurs. “This is thanks to the recovery of the populations in France and the Netherlands,” he explains. “For decades, spoonbills were only recorded in Britain as vagabonds and strays from continental Europe, but they appear to have become increasingly common over the years. A few tried to breed elsewhere in England before ours became the first successful colony. “The number of early pioneers at Holkham in 2010 reached 46 nests last year, producing at least 90 nestlings.”
Although the cluster of willow trees where spoonbills nest is definitely out of bounds, Andy takes me to a nearby viewpoint where a new hide (opening this spring) will provide visitors with as close encounters as possible. “They built a nest earlier this year,” he told me. “The first chicks emerged on April 1, so there will be a lot of activity over the next few months as the adults leave the nest and carry food, called teaspoons, to their chicks until they gather in these pools.”
From the vantage point we can see the tops of willows where spoonbills nest, protected by the grassy ruins of an Iron Age fort. Herons and egrets lurk next to a handful of cormorants in the branches of a long-dead oak tree. As Andy predicted, adult spoonbills came and went regularly, rotating with their mates on incubation duty or returning with crops full of food for their young.
We watch them for a while until the cold becomes uncomfortable. I say goodbye to Andy and head off to Holkham Estate’s country pub, Victoria, to warm up. As well as ten cozy guest rooms (plus ten more in the adjacent Ancient House), the beautiful flint-and-brick building has an excellent restaurant with windows overlooking the marsh on the other side of a neatly clipped hedge.
The fact that their menu is created almost entirely from Norfolk ingredients, seafood from Wells and meat, game and garden-grown vegetables from the Holkham Estate gives it an extra personality. It’s utterly elegant (dinner service begins with entertaining) and even more delightful for these views: a kaleidoscope of fresh spring greens.
The next morning, I fuel up with a hearty breakfast and go for a walk along Holkham Beach, walking half a mile from Victoria to Lady Anne’s Drive to silvery sands lined with pines and dunes. As the highlight of the Norfolk coast, it is always beautiful: but never more beautiful than at low tide, when it expands into a vast, empty space scattered with seashells and adorned with the ripples left behind by outgoing waves.
I hit the shore and headed east as the wind stirred the dry sand, creating tufts that flew around my boots like mischievous ghosts. Parts of the beach are lined with signs politely asking visitors to keep their dogs on the trails to protect ground-nesting shorebirds; but with the cold coming from the sea, this certainly doesn’t seem like a suitable place to incubate eggs.
As if to emphasize the unseasonality of it all, a group of coal-black Brent geese flies and settles in the sea. Clearly these winter visitors have yet to feel the allure of the breeding grounds. Further on, a row of beach huts sit empty and empty. The only beachgoers today are a group of seals drifting along a channel, oblivious to the cold, waiting for the tide to return.
I leave the sweltering winter seashore behind and return to The Victoria via an inland route protected by pine trees from the weather. The hawthorns and pigweed along the road are heavily in bud, waiting for warmer days to encourage them to bloom. Soon their white leaves will dot the bushes and the full soundtrack of summer birds chirping will be heard. It will be welcomed when the long-awaited sunlight arrives.
how to
The nearest stations are Sheringham and King’s Lynn, with reliable onward connections via Coasthopper and Coastliner buses. By car, follow the A149 coastal road.
The Victoria in Holkham offers double occupancy from £190 per night, including an excellent breakfast.
For more information, visit www.visitnorthnorfolk.com.