The Curious Leveret and the Sea of Gannets – Yorkshire Adventures Continue

 

"Put them up" - a curious Leveret.

Some wildlife encounters stay with you forever.

The morning of 2nd June 2026 provided one of those moments.

After breakfast at West End Farm Cottage, I headed up the quiet farm lane near our accommodation. The Yorkshire countryside was bathed in sunshine following overnight rain, and the hedgerows echoed with the songs of Yellowhammers and Common Whitethroats.

Common Whitethroat

Yellowhammer

The surrounding landscape consisted of vast fields of barley and other crops stretching towards the horizon.

One recently ploughed field caught my attention.

At the far end, I spotted movement.

Brown Hares.

Lots of them.

Hare Today, Gone Tomorrow

Playful Brown Hares

Using every ounce of fieldcraft I possessed, I slowly made my way along the field edge.

There was no rush.

Brown Hares have spent centuries avoiding trouble and are understandably suspicious of humans.

Occasionally, I dropped to my knees. At times, I even resorted to a full commando crawl.

Had anybody noticed me, they may well have reported a suspicious camouflage-clad individual stalking a field in East Yorkshire.

Eventually, I reached a suitable position and called Nicola and Paul.

Nicola soon joined me and quietly settled nearby.

What unfolded over the next half hour was nothing short of magical.

Around ten hares occupied the field, ranging from large adults to tiny leverets. Some groomed themselves in the morning sunshine, others fed along the field margins, whilst several engaged in playful chases.

Then one particular leveret became curious.

Very curious.

A curious Leveret.

The youngster gradually edged closer and closer towards us.

Eventually, it approached within touching distance.

It paused, sniffed the air, studied us carefully and appeared completely fascinated by these two strange humans sitting motionless in a field.

For a few moments, we shared its world.

Then, apparently satisfied we weren't worth worrying about, it bounded away.

Experiences like that simply can't be planned.

A very close encounter.

They happen because patience, respect and a little fieldcraft allow wildlife to make the decisions.

I doubt I'll ever forget it.

Return to Bempton

Following our memorable hare encounter, we headed back to Bempton Cliffs.

The reserve was considerably busier than the previous day, with viewing platforms packed with visitors. It was wonderful to see so many people enjoying nature, including those using mobility scooters and wheelchairs, thanks to the excellent accessibility provided by the reserve.

Nicola and I explored some of the quieter viewpoints.

The wildflower meadows were looking spectacular and provided wonderful photographic opportunities. Tree Sparrows perched amongst the red blooms of Campion whilst Whitethroats posed atop Cow Parsley stems.

Common Whitethroat.

The stars of the show, however, remained the Gannets.

Huge numbers cruised effortlessly along the cliff edge before dropping onto impossibly small ledges. Watching these giant seabirds land safely on narrow cliff shelves hundreds of feet above the sea never ceases to amaze me.

Gannet collecting nesting material.

Gannets swoop past the cliffs.

Many birds carried vegetation for nesting material, whilst younger birds seemed busy practising the skills they'll eventually need when courting future partners.

A Human Seabird Colony

Eventually, the weather we'd somehow avoided finally caught up with us.

Dark clouds rolled in.

Then came the rain.

And not just rain.

Proper Yorkshire rain.

Soon, every visitor at Bempton appeared to be seeking refuge in the visitor centre. The building became the human equivalent of the seabird cliffs outside.

Packed. Noisy. Slightly chaotic.

Naturally, this provided an excellent opportunity for some retail therapy.

Paul and Nicola kindly surprised me with a fantastic Gannet T-shirt, which immediately became one of my favourite souvenirs.

Thornwick Bay and an Evening of Conversation

Once the weather improved, we moved on to Thornwick Bay near Flamborough Head.

The sunshine returned and revealed another beautiful stretch of Yorkshire coastline. Thousands of seabirds rested offshore while Gannets streamed past in long lines above the sea.

The chalk cliffs stretch away from Thornwick Bay to Bempton Cliffs.

A natural sea arch.

Aerial view of Thornwick Bay

I launched the drone to capture the scenery from above, revealing spectacular chalk cliffs and turquoise waters.

After a pleasant meal at a local restaurant, we returned to the cottage.

The evening was spent reviewing photographs, drinking tea and putting the world to rights.

A perfect end to another memorable day with good friends.