hothfield common
Heathland and Avocets
With the weather looking decidedly dubious over the next few days, I thought I should make the most of the last two mornings which were forecast as being fine.
So yesterday I headed for Hothfield Heathlands (as it is now called, not Hothfield Common as I said in a previous post), to (hopefully) catch a misty landscape with the heather in full bloom. It was a beautiful morning but as is so often the case, I found myself frantically searching for a decent composition, seeking out young bracken to act as my anchor point. Eventually I found what I was looking for then just stood and watched the day unfold.
In the distance, I could make out the huge shapes of highland cattle that are currently grazing the heath to keep the scrub under control. Once the sun had burned through the mist the light was too harsh for shooting landscapes, so the next 30 minutes was spent photographing the cattle.

Exposing for the highlights rendered everything else to almost black, giving the image a more moody quality.
As yesterday, I awoke at silly-o-clock and arrived well before sunrise at my hide on the marshes. It was a great sunrise with a spattering of clouds and the avocets came just within camera reach. They have to be our finest bird for silhouettes, no question. With its upturned bill, head sweeping from one side to another and the graceful way in which it moves, they are instantly recognisable.
It’s no wonder they are the symbol for the RSPB though it is not just for their appearance why it was chosen. About 160 years ago they were wiped out due to fen drainage and man using it’s feathers and collecting it’s eggs. Then, after the second world war it is thought they were dislodged from their breeding grounds in the Netherlands by the flooding of the polders and they began to nest on Minsmere and Havergate Island in Suffolk. Recently, on the Southend RSPB website, I read that their preferred breeding conditions of shallow pools and low islands which are uncommon in this country, was artificially created by a wayward bomb from a nearby firing range at Havergate , blowing a hole in the seawall which allowed the tidal river to flood in. At Minsmere, the marshes were deliberately flooded to halt invading troops and when the water drained away, shallow pools remained creating ideal nesting conditions. The RSPB bought both as reserves and today over 100 pairs breed on both with a national population of around 400. A real success story.
Sundew
I’d hoped for a decent sunrise but alas this never happened, so, after wiping the sleep from my eyes, decided to concentrate on a beautiful, though difficult to photograph, insectivorous plant, the common or round-leaved sundew.
There are 3 species in the UK, the aforementioned being the smallest and most common, the oblong or long-leaved and the great sundew. All 3 are most common in northern England and Scotland though they are also found on southern heaths, notably the New Forest.
Sundews are fascinating plants and have evolved their carnivorous behaviour in response to their habitat which is generally very acidic and poor in nutrients. An insect such as a midge or fly is attracted by its bright colours but then gets stuck on its glue-like droplets at the end of its hair-like tendrils. The sundew then, slowly curls and digests the softer parts of the insect letting the remainder fall to the side. It gets its name by the dew-like droplets that glisten in the sun.
They are very easy to find at Hothfield Common and form splashes of vibrant red amongst the equally vibrant sphagnum moss. But, to shoot the individual leaves you have to get really close. Not just close, REALLY close. The images here are uncropped and shot using a NIkon D300 with a 105mm micro lens at it’s closest focus (1:2 or half life-size) PN-11 (52.5mm) extension tube and Nikon 5T 2 element diopter close-up filter. Other than the image showing the full plant, I was only about 5 inches away. This is when a sound technique really comes to the fore. Don’t rush, take your time. The plant isn’t going to run away! Use a tripod, focus carefully, use mirror lock-up if you have it and use a remote release. The tiniest amount of vibration or inaccurate focusing will show up hugely at such a high magnification.
Hothfield Common
A 3.15 alarm call and a half hour drive took me to a favourite reserve near Ashford this morning. I’ve been visiting this site on and off for close to 20 years now though the last time I did any photography was probably 5 years ago. It’s the kind of habitat that yields the best opportunities for photography in late spring and summer when such plants as common sundew, heath-spotted orchid, bog asphodel and heather are in bloom as well as the many insects that inhabit the heath. These include leafhoppers, damselflies, dragonflies (including the scarce keeled skimmer) and sand wasps.
Hothfield Common covers an area of approximately 150 acres making it Kent’s largest area of acid heathland. As you would imaging, it is generally an open space of heath with lowland valley bogs and around the perimeter, woodland of predominantly birch with some mature beech to the south.

Cotton grass. Another stitched panorama. This technique is perfect for this kind of image when the interest lies across a single plane when foreground and background interest become irrelevant.
Due to the invasion of such species as bracken and birch leading to the loss of the heathland habitat, certain measures were necessary to reduce this risk and consequently highland cattle and Koniks are now a feature.
Hothfield Common really is a great place for everyone. There’s a large car park and trails of varying distance and even a road-side snack bar! Be warned however, with the current hot weather we are experiencing, come prepared with a hat and sun cream or if you prefer, like me, get yourself there at dawn. Trust me, it’s worth it.










