12 hours ago
Country diary 1925: Snipe fly to their own beat
NEW FOREST: Where the forest ends on the west with the River Avon you pass in a moment from forest to lush water-meadows, yellow just now with buttercups and yellow flags. A yellow wagtail was running on the banks, and in the bend of the river by the bridge we watched a family of coots. Above the yellow meadows snipe were flying to and fro, rising with quickly beating wings and their bright clipper-like note – their long bills silhouetted against the sky – and descending with the mechanical goat-like noise of their 'drumming.' One bird sat on a post calling continually, opening her bill to emit the sound; probably a mother bird calling to her young, but no young were visible.
Going back to the forest we found more snipe in a stretch of ground fragrant with bog myrtle, near a little stream. By the bridge that crossed it were the triform leaves of the bog bean (Menyanthes trifoliata) in abundance. But we were too late for the flower, one of our loveliest, with its rosy buds and soft white fringe inside the fully opened flower. Only one withered flower head was left. Close by I found the pale, dark-veined marsh violet, but, oddly enough, growing in a dry gorse bush.
