There’s something magical about arriving early at a nature reserve. When the world is still stirring and birdsong fills the hush before the crowds. That was exactly the kind of moment I shared recently with my son and girlfriend before joining the welcoming band of RSPB Chesterfield group members on a spring field trip to Far Ings Nature Reserve, on the southern shore of the Humber.
To start the day, the three of us made a quiet loop around the Tadpole Trail. No tadpoles, as it turned out. Chaffinches filled the air with song and as we crossed the boardwalk, we were joined by fluttering orange tips, chasing each other and a few red admirals pausing as if to soak in the same peace we felt.
After our initial wander, we joined ten others from the group. Some of us set off along the Viking Way to Bittern Hide. While others drove around to the second car park to meet us there.
From the hides and viewpoints, the list of sightings quickly grew: moorhens, coots, mallards, Canada geese, swans, magpies, and greylags. A highlight early on was the unmistakable sight of a solitary punky coot chick with one of its parents, all downy scruff and charm although it was a little sad to think of what had happened to its brother and sisters.
We were thrilled to spot a male reed bunting and then came the first of several real “wow” moments: a cuckoo, first spotted through the scope before it took flight. Later reappearing for another lucky few to glimpse from a tighter vantage point.
Overlooking Target Lake we picked out tufted ducks and gadwalls. At one hide, a particularly handsome little grebe emerged from a dive, its colours flashing before it vanished again into the reeds.
Conversations turned, as they do on good days like this, to the small mysteries of nature: the subtle differences between moths and butterflies and whether a photo shared by one of the group captured was a moth, although thanks to iPhone photo identifier it was identified as a female orange tip with her wings, held closed, which looked remarkably plain.
Further along, a goldfinch chattered from a nearby tree before darting away. From the estuary wall, we were treated to shelduck on the mudflats and linnets flitting along the sea defence. In the distance, a great crested grebe cut elegantly through the water.
Then came a hush as we spotted a chiffchaff, singing confidently from a bare ‘ghost tree’ Its delicate form perfectly framed. Not long after, we packed into Reedy Hide and were rewarded with a fleeting flash of a bearded tit, darting across the reeds.
As we crossed the fields, the low, resonant boom of the bittern echoed once more. One of several booming calls we heard throughout the day. A blackbird was spotted as we headed back toward the picnic area, where we paused for lunch, now deep into the afternoon.
Our energy refreshed, we watched a male and female marsh harrier quarter the sky as we wandered back to the main visitor centre. The male’s pale plumage distinct from the female’s rich brown and then moved to a hide with discreet wooden viewing slits. There we admired a great crested grebe settled calmly on its nest.
Back at the visitor centre, over well-earned hot chocolates, we watched common terns resting on poles in the lake. Overhead, both a buzzard and one of the marsh harriers circled high above the trees.
Not yet ready to leave, four of us made a final dash to the far hide. We were rewarded with sightings of a kestrel, a family of pink-footed geese with chicks, and more coots, moorhens, and a group of tufted ducks. Not to forget the graceful flight of a curlew overhead.
It was the kind of day that lingers. Full of shared joy, quiet discovery and that gentle healing that only time in wild places can offer. For me, having my son and girlfriend alongside the RSPB Chesterfield community made it even more special; a reminder of why I like to walk these trails together.