I grew up here. Well, not here precisely, we lived about 2 miles away, so it was my closest wild place. For a budding wildlife photographer it was a perfect classroom. The wild teachers allowed no mistakes, every careless twig snapping step a strict lesson. With no hides, you learn how to disappear, how to become part of the landscape, or better, to be visible yet so unthreatening and still that the wild creatures forget your presence. It’s not easy and perhaps impossible to truly master, but with patience it does happen, in little snippets, often spoilt by increasing excitement or the click of a shutter, the spell broken in an instant.
I’ve been here in all conditions, blazing hot sun, shivering snow, sparkling rain, and plenty in between. I’ve seen soft glimmering sunrises and glowing sunsets.
In the areas where black peat yields softly to boots, it is easy to walk quietly, but listen for the whispering in the reeds and pause. You never know who might be there, Reed Bunting, Bearded tit, or the soft eyes of a Roe doe, if you feel the breeze in your face she may linger and allow a photo.
Sometimes I feel I know this place, I can tell you where the frost stays all day or where the lizards bask, but I will never know all it’s secrets. Still it has plenty of mysteries to offer. I wonder if it knows me, my tendency to walk the paths anti-clockwise, and to always pause at the bridges.
I long for the early summer sunrise, the incessant reeling song of the Grasshopper warbler spilled without pause for breath. The scratchy jazz tune of the Sedge warbler, which always brings me back here, and reminds me of my repeated attempts to capture a photo of this little songster over the years.
This place has allowed me to witness some strange things too, the lonely escapee Prairie dog, and a runaway Rhea. Lost creatures somehow drawn to the quiet peace, maybe that’s why I’m here too, a stray from the modern world seeking a connection with the wild.
I’ve had some of my most memorable moments with nature here too. One summer evening I found myself surrounded by a swarm of Swifts, swirling high and skimming low, racing through the sky together with such pure joyful abandon that the energy was catching, and I felt I could hop up into the air to join them. More recently, I was watching a Red Kite, deep in Marsh Harrier territory. The female harrier kept tabs on the kite from a distance, but then her mate flew in, bravely attempting to escort the intruder away from his patch, luckily right in my direction.
One winter I walked to the soggy boggy end where the Waveney River rises, a slow seeping beginning, so different from the lively body of water it eventually becomes. I was surprised to see a small brown creature bobbing atop a reed stem, not a bird as I initially thought from a distance, but a Harvest mouse! I quickly snapped a photo, then begged the wee scrap to hide fast, for the keen Kestrel would surely be looking for a meal.
This place is the largest valley fen in England, and a really important wetland not just nationally, but on a European level too. The rare Fen Raft spider roams the peaty pools, weaving together place and time with silk threads and sedge grass. They don’t know how special they are, but I do, spotting one is difficult, which makes it all the more magical when you do finally see one. They stitch their stories to this haunting landscape, my own story a single thread woven through it, and beyond, still spooling onwards.
I don’t visit often enough now, sometimes I wonder, if I visited, day after day, what secrets would be revealed, what more could I learn? I’m sure it would take a lifetime or more to unravel all the mysteries of the fen.
All photos in this letter were taken on the fen over the years. If you’re in the area I highly recommend a visit, it’s one of my favourite places!
Find out more here: Redgrave and Lopham Fen
As a side note, it’s interesting to compare some of my old photos to my newer work, I can definitely see an improvement, although my older images seem a bit more artistic, something to think about this year I think!
Thanks so much for reading, please do like, share and leave a comment, I’d love to hear from you!
Until next time,
Dawn.
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