I am sitting on a wooden bench over looking the grassy field and pools of Cranwich. The wind roars through the leaves of the trees and the reeds at the edge of the pools, the sound rising and falling in intensity like a crowd at a football match cheering when their favourite player gets the … More Meeting a Legend – Sir David Attenborough!
I am lying on one of the only patches of dry grass at Cranwich, eyes closed and listening to the sounds of the reed bed around me. The sun is warm on my face, the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the reeds. I hear pigeons cooing in the woods behind, the rattling … More Wet Suited and Booted
The margins around the pools at Cranwich had really filled out. Meadows of vibrant green, pale yellow and yellowish-brown grasses, their heads drooping with the weight of seeds, rippled in the breeze. The bright white petals and brilliant yellow heads of ox eye daisies added a splash of colour. Carpets of tiny yellow flowers hugged … More Ringing in the Reeds
After days of rain, grey skies and general dampness, Monday dawned on a clear, pale blue sky, streaks of washed out pinkish orange hinting where that elusive sun would appear. The reed bed at Cranwich was brimming with water, fuller than it had been in a long time. Straw coloured reeds with fresh green shoots … More Back to the reed bed