IT’S noon and through the salty-aired sunshine flies a short-eared owl. The raptor scythes low over the island meadow, its moon face scanning the
undergrowth, its broad wings outstretched. For several minutes it glides and turns, before suddenly—whomp!—it drops and pounces, claws spread. I lose sight of the bird in the grass, but, when it doesn’t reappear, I know the outcome of the hunt. Owl one; vole nil.
I’m on Skomer, a small island a mile or so off the Pembrokeshire coast. The boat crossing from the mainland takes about 15 minutes, but the voyage is transportive in more ways than one. Here, the world is a little wilder. Beds of bracken and bluebells froth above plunging cliffs as grey seals swish through rocky inlets. Porpoises swim in the swell, guillemots skim the waves and gannets range the skies, poised to dive-bomb any wrong-place-wrongtime fish.
Despite its size—it covers only 720 acres —Skomer serves up one of Britain’s richest wildlife tapestries, particularly during the seabird breeding months of spring and early summer. ‘The Normans actually used to farm rabbits here,’ one of the wardens tells me, apparently still shocked at the idea. ‘These days, the island’s internationally important. It’s been designated as a Marine Nature Reserve since 1990.’
I’m staying for two nights in the island’s 19th-century farmhouse, which has 16 guest beds arranged across five rooms. Being here in the evenings gives me the chance to witness the astonishing avian event that occurs on Skomer after dark, when an estimated 350,000 pairs of Manx shearwaters become active, noisily greeting their partners outside their burrows. They represent the largest— and, therefore, the loudest—such breeding colony in the world.
Denne historien er fra June 05, 2024-utgaven av Country Life UK.
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Denne historien er fra June 05, 2024-utgaven av Country Life UK.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
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Tales as old as time
By appointing writers-in-residence to landscape locations, the National Trust is hoping to spark in us a new engagement with our ancient surroundings, finds Richard Smyth
Do the active farmer test
Farming is a profession, not a lifestyle choice’ and, therefore, the Budget is unfair
Night Thoughts by Howard Hodgkin
Charlotte Mullins comments on Moght Thoughts
SOS: save our wild salmon
Jane Wheatley examines the dire situation facing the king of fish
Into the deep
Beneath the crystal-clear, alien world of water lie the great piscean survivors of the Ice Age. The Lake District is a fish-spotter's paradise, reports John Lewis-Stempel
It's alive!
Living, burping and bubbling fermented masses of flour, yeast and water that spawn countless loaves—Emma Hughes charts the rise and rise) of sourdough starters
There's orange gold in them thar fields
A kitchen staple that is easily taken for granted, the carrot is actually an incredibly tricky customer to cultivate that could reduce a grown man to tears, says Sarah Todd
True blues
I HAVE been planting English bluebells. They grow in their millions in the beechwoods that surround us—but not in our own garden. They are, however, a protected species. The law is clear and uncompromising: ‘It is illegal to dig up bluebells or their bulbs from the wild, or to trade or sell wild bluebell bulbs and seeds.’ I have, therefore, had to buy them from a respectable bulb-merchant.
Oh so hip
Stay the hand that itches to deadhead spent roses and you can enjoy their glittering fruits instead, writes John Hoyland
A best kept secret
Oft-forgotten Rutland, England's smallest county, is a 'Notswold' haven deserving of more attention, finds Nicola Venning