Although associated with snow and ice, December is by far our mildest winter month. Even in the dying weeks of autumn we experience at least one sharp frost, and often sleet showers too. To prove my point, at the time of writing, a reasonable dusting of snow settled in the Broads and around the North Norfolk coast.

The period around the festive season, has been for decades, almost predictably mild. On several occasions my Christmas day stroll to the pub and back has been in a T-shirt! And it’s not unusual to find the odd common darter still on the wing quite deep into the month. Despite the moderate weather, ducks will begin moving in from the continent in greater numbers, joining the ‘wild’ geese and swans already here from the Arctic Circle.

Goldeneyes are among the winter duck now appearing on our inland waters, and the viewing platform at Barton Broad is a great place to see them from. With the commencement of a new calendar, and some inclement weather to our east, a flock of fifty or more can form. A keen eye maybe lucky enough to pick-out the odd long-tailed duck or scaup, misplaced and some distance from their coastal preference. Both sexes of goldeneye have the distinctive shining yellow eye. The drake has a white cheek patch on his glossy green head. His partner, as is common with most duck, is mottled brown; but instead she has a rather fetching dark-chocolate head. They ride low on the water, and whilst bobbing up and down can look rather deliquescent and formless, although their distinctive shaped head is a good identification feature in silhouette. Female tufted ducks also have conspicuous yellow eyes, but they sit more trimly on the water than female goldeneyes. They have paler flanks, and as their name implies, regularly sport a short head-tuft.

UK winter wildfowl numbers are generally much reduced now, and in no small part to the milder weather found across northern Europe. Many of the larger bodies of water remain ice free, and as a result winter duck and coot numbers in Britain have dwindled, seeming to prefer to stay on the continent. The vast rafts of birds on our broads and reservoirs are now a memory from a bygone age.

Mid-November saw a small influx of hawfinch to East Anglia from Europe, possibly prompted by a failure of hornbeam seeds elsewhere. They are the largest of the British finches, with a massive beak, formidable cheek muscles and a bull-neck. They use this equipment to crack open the hornbeam seeds, but will also take on the stones of cherries and sloes. Surprisingly, in Eastern Europe they frequently feed at bird tables and remain relatively common there. Here, particularly in summer, hawfinch are notoriously difficult to find, and along with their cousin the bullfinch, have suffered significant decline. Having open nests in the tree canopy, evidence seems to point to their vulnerability to the grey squirrels’ taste for eggs and chicks. The hawfinch’s haunts in Norfolk are our large ancient woodlands that provide plenty of hornbeam and beech trees. The Lynford Arboretum in the Brecks has proved to be a consistent favourite for a small winter flock.

Another bird less likely to be found in summer, but one that can be literally tripped over in winter, is the woodcock. Woodcock spend the day lurking beneath the bracken and the bramble of damp woodlands. Upton Broad and Marshes is a great place for them, and a hundred or more probably use the reserve in winter. A stroll around the footpaths will eventually lead to you being startle by one. No matter how often it happens, its difficult not to raise your hand to your heart. They launch quickly, sometimes from right beneath your feet, bursting through the foliage, they zigzag away through the trees; their camouflage ensures they disappear immediately. Before the first visitors, an early morning walk along the Ranworth Broad boardwalk, always ensured a ‘wake-up’ fright from a flushed woodcock. Hiding by day, at dusk they usually leave the woods to feed on earthworms in damp fields and ditches: they probe with the tips of their long bills, then sink them in deep when they detect a worm. The raptor roost watchpoint at Hickling Broad and Marshes is a great place to see them leaving the woodland behind the watchpoint, and landing in the grazing marshes to its front.