Since March 2020 (although in reality, spring 2021 as Covid restrictions limited my activities to one very cold shift in November 2020) I have been volunteering as a Wildlife Guide at Carlton Marshes Nature Reserve, Suffolk. Managed by the Suffolk Wildlife Trust, the Marshes are located at the edge of Oulton Broad and Carlton Coalville, Lowestoft. They form the Western/ Southern edge of the River Waveney and the Cutting to Oulton Broad.
The site is criss-crossed with Willow, Alder and Reed-lined dykes, low scrapes and coastal marsh land, offering a variety of habitat for wildlife. Of chief interest is the fen raft spider, which is a rare dyke speciality, bitterns, bearded tits, Norfolk chaser dragonfly, marsh harriers, water voles and otters. alongside, there are a wide range of water birds (ducks, geese, herons, eagrets), reed specialists (warblers, reed bunting, water rail), predatory birds (barn and tawny owls, sparrow hawks, red kite, kestrels), and waders (Godwits, Redshanks, Dunlin, Snipe). Not to mention the ever-present Chinese Water Deer.
Some can be seen or heard here all year round, whilst others are seasonal visitors, such as Short Eared Owls, Hobbies, and occasional guests like Bee-eaters, spoonbills, cranes and peregrine falcons as well as flypasts by roaming white-tailed eagles. Even on days when the wildlife is quiet, the Marshes is alive with nature, the whisper of the wind through the reeds, the groaning willow, the ripple of water in the dykes and in the river. A beautiful place to wander beneath the sweeping Suffolk skies. The fresh air – so very fresh when standing on the riverbank exposed to the coastal winds – is invigorating, the sun warming.
The cattle that graze the marsh provide additional interest, whether they are wandering the scrapes and wading through the water (with often beautiful reflections) or grazing the reed-lined marsh pastures. They exchange curious glances with you as they pause from taking refreshment from the dykes. In spring, the young calves are a delight, following closely on their mothers’ heels, or frolicking with each other with increasing confidence. In summer, a small herd of ponies (mostly native Exmoors, with a Konik for diversity) add to the marsh foragers.
As a volunteer, I spend my time (usually a full day) walking round the site, observing – or trying to – what is about, helping visitors if they have queries, and picking up stray bits of litter.
As a writer this is an ideal opportunity. There are frequently days when I see or speak to very few people, and I can drift in my own little world. My mind frequently wanders over dialogue my Work In Progress (WIP) characters are yet to speak. I can resolve plots holes and work out back stories and motivations to clarify character arcs.
Carlton Marshes is also full of stimulation and inspiration that changes throughout the seasons. The Willows creak in conversation as reeds sway and bob as a golden tide in the winds that send the gulls reeling. I always carry a notebook and can often be seen jotting down ideas for scenes and settings that soon end up in stories or poems.
Spring breeding waders pipe and call, joining the deep boom of the secretive bittern. Their calls drift on the breeze that make the catkin ladened branches wave across the paths blooming with the promise of life.
Melodic bird song from the reeds and trees carries over the marsh in summer sunshine, blending with the whirr of crickets from your feet. Colour floods the marsh; the green growth of new leaves and stems lining the dykes, overwhelming any lingering golden reeds; leaf laden-trees and flowers bursting in the dykes, on the shrubs and along the lanes. White hawthorn, yellow daffodils, purple thistles and any number of water flowers (which I am not in any way expert at identifying), bring the bees and butterflies to flit through the air, dodging and dancing with the dragonflies.
Autumn sounds may be muted by the mists that enshroud the marsh in the early mornings and later into the evenings as bats dart across the expansive sky. Even without the mists, the sounds of the marshes changes, the bird song fades as the warblers depart for warmer climes, though the ever present robin, blackbirds and pigeons keep up their chorus. The colours change as fluidly as the expressive sunsets. Green reeds darken, the seedheads taking on a deep purple hue, red berries burst across the shrubs amidst the yellowy bobbles of ivy flowers.
An exposed, open plain, Carlton Marsh can be cold in winter, especially on the raised embankments. Though these provide excellent views across the lower landscape, you feel the wind slice through you, the chill frosty air biting at your nose and cheeks. (As a mid-morning arrival, not so good with the early mornings of most dedicated bird watches, I’m thankfully only caught by the really icy cold on a few occasions, though the wind is a regular.) Flocks of ducks gabble and cluck quietly to themselves as they forage through the scrapes.
Although not a native of East Anglia, I am very inspired by the nature and the open-ness of the Marsh. I have two short stories currently seeking publication which have been inspired by my wanderings through the reed-lined paths, and several more in development or as glinting ideas in my mental eye.
Carlton Marshes, as with many of the nature reserves across the country, serves an important function. It provides a protected natural island for wildlife and people alike to enjoy and take refuge in amidst the urban or agricultural landscape, and should be celebrated and supported for many many more years to come.
