Boom!

Some birds never lose their magic, no matter how many times you’re lucky enough to see them. Over the past week, I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with one of Britain’s most secretive and iconic wetland birds—the Bittern.

Often a master of staying hidden, this particular male Bittern has been a little more obliging than most, offering a few wonderful views. Better still, I’ve been able to watch him booming on several occasions.

If you’ve never heard a Bittern boom, it’s something truly special. The sound is deep, resonant, and carries far across the wetlands—almost more felt than heard. This male is still a little rusty though, his calls more like deep grunts than the full, echoing booms that experienced birds produce. Still, there’s something hugely endearing about watching him try, chest puffed out and neck stretched skywards in effort.

Bitterns are birds of stillness and patience. Their camouflaged plumage allows them to vanish into reedbeds with ease, blending perfectly into their surroundings. Every sighting feels like a reward for persistence and quiet watching. It’s part of what makes springtime birding so exciting—moments like these that you simply can’t plan or predict.

Sky Dancers - Marsh Harriers at Willow Tree Fen

A few weeks ago, I had one of those wildlife encounters that really sticks with you. I was at Willow Tree Fen, a fantastic Lincolnshire Wildlife Trust reserve, enjoying a morning visit with my friend Matt (who volunteers on site), when a stunning adult male Marsh Harrier gave us several incredibly close fly-pasts.

It’s always a privilege to get good views of a Marsh Harrier, but this one seemed especially showy—crisp plumage glowing in the low sun, its flight slow and deliberate. What made it even more special was the aerial display going on above us: several males were sky dancing—a classic Marsh Harrier courtship behaviour, where they climb high before diving dramatically in a series of twists and turns.

There’s something magical about watching these birds over the open fenland landscape. And every time I see one, I’m taken back to childhood weekends at the end of the River Welland, scanning the skies with my Dad and my late Grandad, hoping to catch even the briefest glimpse. Back then, Marsh Harriers were a real rarity. Now, to be watching multiple birds displaying with a mate and a camera in hand—it’s something I never take for granted.

This encounter was one of those moments where everything just lined up: great light, great company, and a bird that’s meant so much to me over the years.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, or if my photos resonate with you, do check out my photo cards and wildlife artwork—available now on my Etsy shop (link above). It’s another way I get to share these beautiful encounters with you.

Spring Spotted Redshank on the patch

Worth getting up early, to find this Spotted Redshank on my patch this morning. Only my third ever here.

Daytime Barn Owl

This Barn Owl showed well in the mid-day sun.

First Aurora of the Year

Great to see the Northern Lights over Lincolnshire, last night.

How Do Crane Chicks Keep Warm?

They get on Mama's back!

... until she has had enough!

Tiny New Arrivals at Willow Tree Fen – Common Crane Chicks Hatched!

Over the past couple of weekends, I’ve been lucky enough to spend some time watching a pair of Common Cranes at Willow Tree Fen in Lincolnshire—an experience made all the better by having my friend Matt alongside, who’s currently volunteering on site.

We’d been watching the pair closely and began to notice a subtle but clear change in behaviour over the weekend. The adults were a little more alert, a little more cautious, and something just felt different. We allowed ourselves to hope—maybe the chicks had hatched.

Yesterday afternoon, Matt confirmed it: two tiny Common Crane chicks, fresh out of the nest and following their parents through the grass.

I couldn’t get there straight away, but after work this evening, I finally made it back—and what a relief to see both chicks safe and visible, sticking close to their towering parents. They could so easily have remained hidden in the tall vegetation, but luck was on our side.

Amy and I were treated to some truly special views as these tiny, ginger-fluffed chicks waddled clumsily around the feet of the adult cranes. Seeing the size contrast in real life is always a bit surreal—these tiny things being guided and protected by such elegant, tall birds.

It’s moments like this that really stay with you. Willow Tree Fen continues to deliver unforgettable wildlife experiences, and the success of this crane pair is a huge credit to the habitat and care being put into the site.

Fingers crossed these little ones stay safe as they grow. I’ll definitely be checking back in over the coming weeks.

A Fenland Icon on a Fenland Perch – Barn Owl at Sea Level

Sometimes the best photos aren’t just about the bird—they’re about the setting too. This Barn Owl, perched perfectly on an old fenland drain measuring post, couldn’t have been more symbolic of the landscape it calls home.

Likely no more than five feet above sea level, it’s a striking reminder of just how low and open this landscape is. This scene captures everything that makes the Lincolnshire Fens so special: vast skies, subtle light, and the quiet presence of iconic wildlife going about its business.

Barn Owls are one of the true symbols of the Fens—ghosting low over the drains and dykes, quartering the rough margins for voles in the twilight. To see one so still and alert, right in the heart of its territory, is always a moment to savour.

What made this encounter all the more special was just how ‘of the place’ it felt. The owl, the post, the green backdrop—everything rooted in the fenland character. It’s hard to imagine a more fitting perch for such a classic bird of this landscape.

A Crane Encounter to Remember at Willow Tree Fen

Despite Willow Tree Fen being just down the road, it’s a place I don’t visit nearly as often as I should. That might just change after this weekend.

I headed over on a bit of a whim and was rewarded with something pretty special—brilliant views of Common Cranes. And not just distant silhouettes either—these were close-up, lingering views of these incredible birds, going about their business in the open.

Watching them was a real privilege. Their size alone is impressive, but what struck me most was their behaviour and communication. They weren’t just standing around. They were active—feeding, preening, and occasionally breaking into that iconic, echoing call. What surprised me most was how their calls changed depending on what they were doing—so expressive and layered once you’re tuned in.

It’s not every day you get such intimate views of Common Cranes in Lincolnshire, especially in such a peaceful, open landscape. The light was kind, the wind stayed down, and I ended up spending far longer there than planned. No complaints.

Safe to say, Willow Tree Fen is now firmly back on my local rotation. Cranes or not, it’s got a charm all of its own—and if the birds happen to show like this again, all the better.

Leucistic Marsh Harrier

Over the winter, an incredible and rare leucistic Marsh Harrier has been drawing attention around Willow Tree Fen in south Lincolnshire. This striking bird, with its unusually white plumage, is originally from Otmoor in Oxfordshire—while its sibling has been reported wintering in Gloucestershire.

Now looking a little worn after the colder months, it’s still an amazing sight in the skies, particularly when seen against clear blue like this. The leucism gives it a ghostly appearance in flight—more white than the typical brown tones of a Marsh Harrier, making it stand out instantly.

It’s not often you get to see such a distinctive raptor so regularly, and it’s been a real treat for local birders and photographers alike to enjoy its presence throughout the season. Willow Tree Fen has offered the perfect habitat—open reedbeds, wide skies, and plenty of space for this elegant hunter to roam.

Little Gulls visit Deeping Lakes

Little Gulls have always been one of my favourite species and it was great to find a flock of around 15 birds yesterday morning before work. They were all adults about from one 1st winter. I counted 18 in the afternoon, but they were hard to count among the masses of Black-headed Gulls. Probably my biggest flock on the patch.