Norfolk’s Phoenix

Imagine the scene: it’s a bright, cold, cloudless day. The Norfolk sky is the kind of blue that gladdens the heart after dull winter’s days and, although the air is chill, there is the first hint of warmth in the sun.

In front of you is a vibrant green meadow with a shimmering shallow pool in the centre, and to your right is a sea of golden Norfolk reed, nodding in the breeze.

There’s movement in the reeds and a flash of shining golden brown catches the light. And there she is, rising from the golden sea of reed and reminiscent of childhood drawings of phoenix rising from the flames. My first close-up of a marsh harrier.

These birds had always held me in thrall but I’d only ever seen them in the distance and never when I had my binoculars. This time I had been promised a close-up and was prepared. What I was not prepared for was my reaction to them.

The bird that rose from the fen had a cream head – a female – and lifted effortlessly into the clear sky on broad wings. She began to quarter the fen, drifting across the reeds after a couple of slow, heavy wing flaps. It’s a different movement with these birds. There is no quick, darting dashes across the sky but their wing flaps appear almost slow-motion – however the glide seems endless. The hold their wings in a strong dihedral – V-shaped above the horizontal – which makes them easier to spot in flight.

I’d wanted to see a Marsh Harrier eye to eye for so long and the reality of the bird was much more than I had expected. There is something majestic about them, something elemental – and the sun glinting off her red-golden feathers as she dipped a wing to turn down to the marsh made her shine like copper.

There came a call from the treeline and there he was. The male harrier. His wings glowed grey with clear black tips showing as he flew low over the reeds and at one point he extended yellow legs as he dropped down – but changed his mind and rose again.

They called to each other but did not engage in the sky dancing that we had hoped for – but it didn’t matter. I felt I’d been in the presence of something utterly wonderful and raw. I could have stood all day and watched them. There’s beauty in their movements as well as their plumage and a power occasionally glimpsed, but more often shimmering under the surface. The flight is hypnotic and they drag you into their world as you watch them and straight into your heart.

If you can find them, go and see them. Everything else in the world will fade away when you are eye to eye with such beauty and it will just be you and them and their calls on the breeze. Nature’s alchemy with a direct path into your soul. I’m not exaggerating – trust me.