A curlew looking for food on the marsh at Burnham Deepdale. Picture: Ian Burt.

When the skeins of squealing geese have flown from Norfolk, the curlew’s cry forms the soundtrack as spring gets set to land on the coast.

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She probes the mud for titbits in the maze of creeks that criss-cross the salt marsh at Burnham Deepdale.

On the highest tides, the ropes stir and the boats come briefly to life as water courses up the inlets.

An old flat-bottomed wildfowler’s punt keeps watch as the seasons change.

There’s always something happening on the salt marsh, from the depths of winter to the height of summer.

It’s a fascinating place for a walk - with or without a camera.

Today’s blue skies will warm the curlew’s heart. Soon she and her mate will look for a nesting site above the high water mark.

Their call takes on a more urgent note as the days draw out and the male bird marks their territory with his roller coaster display.

As the birds take turns to incubate their eggs, the marsh bursts into glorious life around them.

By the time the curlew chicks are born, the creeks will scuttle with shrimp and shore crabs.

Sea thrift brings a riot of colour to the marsh, before the first sprigs of samphire peep out from the mud.

For now there is just the curlew’s cry - as winter takes flight from the coast.