Godwits at Dawn: A Fresh-Faced Goldcliff Morning

The morning felt like it had been rinsed clean. Goldcliff Lagoons always has a knack for restoring a bit of equilibrium, but today it went out of its way to lift the spirits. Sunrise had only just hauled itself over the horizon when I arrived, painting the reeds with that warm, honey-gold glow you only get in late autumn. Disappointingly, a layer of cloud obscured the best of the rising sun. The air had a certain nip to it, too—fresh enough to wake the senses, but not so biting that it stole the fun.

As I approached Priors Lagoon, I could hear the chittering of Godwits. The morning delivered a gift: a big, beautifully restless flock of Black-tailed Godwits. They were gathered opposite the Marsh Platform. Every now and then, a ripple of movement passed through them, and I had a feeling they might take a flight at any moment.

A Buzzard kept close watch on my progress around the reserve, perched on one of the many Hawthorn Bushes that are full of berries. The hedges were alive with the clucking noises of Fieldfares that, whenever I got close, burst into motion and flew off in a panic.c Later, a Kestrel hovered in front of me, hanging in the breeze and making micro-adjustments to stay rock steady in the air. 

And just when the palette needed a little extra brightness, along came a Goldfinch, glinting like a wandering jewel. It perched for a brief moment, flashing those candy-coloured flashes of red and yellow—nature’s own confetti.

The whole reserve felt happy today. The light was crisp, the lagoons were busy, the wind had personality, and everything seemed to hum with that gentle optimism you only get when the seasons are shifting gears. A quick visit turned into a slow, grateful wander. Sometimes the simplest mornings—sunshine, birds, and a hint of wildness—are exactly what recalibrates the mind. Goldcliff delivered again, and I walked away smiling.