Finding news of this lifer during Saturday afternoon prompted one of those get up and go moments. Snowy Owl, a staple of many a past Arctic wildlife documentary, usually turn up in Scotland, the Scillies and Cornwall or so I thought. Hence the opportunity to experience one just 150 miles from home was not to be missed, and I resolved at once to head off immediately upon waking the following morning.

After first reports in Kings Lynn on 5th March and nearby Heacham the next day this individual had become twitchable at Scolt Head Island on the north Norfolk coast through the latter part of Friday 9th. A day later it relocated to Thornham Point west of RSPB Titchwell where large numbers of birders connected, albeit distantly before the owl flew inland at dusk. On my arrival in Norfolk a negative had gone out from that last observed location at 7:17am and there had been no further sightings since.

It seemed sensible to go to Titchwell and await further news as there would be plenty of birders around. Getting there at 9am I bought a day permit and headed for the beach, where the earliest starters had now spread out along the coastline to watch and wait. Various sea duck were being reported offshore and wandering around I managed to self-find several splendid male Long-tailed Duck, though the other interest was rather too distant for my liking.

So I began to walk back inland and just before 11am the RSPB home for nature’s blandish ambience suddenly and imperceptibly assumed a certain added sharpness. Upon overhearing two phone calls I checked RBA again and the latest alert read: “SNOWY OWL Snettisham RSPB at far viewing screen late morning”. This at once suggested a long walk that I remembered well from having twice twitched a Pallid Harrier at the site in 2015.

I was relieved the day’s quest had been re-found back towards Kings Lynn, since it could have become a very long day if the owl had moved on east to Cromer, for instance. There was now a general evacuation on the part of serious birders, though even more of the RSPB’s preferred clientele were still walking in the opposite direction as we all left.

At Snettisham Beach the Snowy Owl had indeed settled in the furthest possible location from the bulging reserve car park. This wild and windswept reserve can be quite an unforgiving place. On and on I strode in company with many other birders, some of impressively advanced years for their exertion and a few walking with sticks, until the sought for twitch line finally came into view.

Snowy Owl (fem)

Here the Snowy Owl, a first winter female (pictured above) was visible at once, amongst long grass on a mound 90 yards to one side of a boardwalk upon which the assemblage of birders was gathered. This owl likes such a look-out post and there she sat unconcerned by all the attention, turning her head from side to side just like all the others in those TV documentaries. Much of the time her big round eyes were half closed but on occasion they would open wide revealing a vivid yellow. What a superb bird.

She was indeed a beautiful sight and one I like many others present would not have expected to witness in Norfolk, until now. The views here were by all accounts much better than those on offer at Thornham Point the previous day. Whilst males are strikingly white, females have a narrowly barred appearance making their own white faces stand out especially. A million images such as these (below) must be appearing in cyberspace as I write.

Snowy Owl (fem)

Snowy Owl are nomadic tundra breeders and an irregular vagrant further south. A large, powerful owl their numbers vary with the food supply of Lemmings, since breeding only takes place in plentiful years. One pair bred in Shetland during the 1960s and 70s but this is otherwise an extremely rare visitor to Great Britain that I feel excited to have observed here today. My second Arctic icon in England of successive posts has been as pleasing as the first.

By 2pm I had enjoyed my fill and so began to head for home. The walk back did seem less far as return legs usually do but I still took things slowly to rest my aching limbs. Back at the reserve entrance the car park was half empty but the access road was still lined with later arriving vehicles along its entire length. That was testimony to the appeal of a truly stunning species making such an unlikely excursion to eastern England.