Rye Meads
The June doldrums is something I hear mentioned from time to time. I understand this to an extent. Spring heralds the magic of migration. Birds completing long journeys from their wintering grounds to set up home in areas that we call home. The emergence of butterflies and (in)vertebrates, the changing weather, a new dawn, a new spring. Then in a flash, it all settles down. Breeding begins, the young fledge, and we wait in anticipation for return passage and the slow ebb toward autumn. I am so guilty of compartmentalising the offerings of local wildlife. There is always plenty to see. Today, a visit to the wonderful Rye Meads RSPB reserve revitalised my appreciation of the seasons. Only half an hour from home by train before I was warmly greeted at the centre by the reception volunteers. Rye Meads Visitor Centre Heading off along the boardwalk, and within a few metres a Large Skipper settled onto a reed with numerou...