Swallowtail Butterflies in Norfolk: Two Trips and a Soggy Poster

The British Swallowtail is our largest and rarest butterfly — pale lemon-yellow wings with black veins, red-orange spots, and a flash of blue. It exists in the wild only in the fens and broads of Norfolk.

I'd wanted to see one for years. Their only UK stronghold is a manageable weekend trip from our home in Cambridgeshire, so my husband and I planned an escape with my hopes pinned entirely on finding this single, magnificent butterfly.

It took two trips to get there. The first taught me more than the second.

Trip One: Rain and a Soggy Poster

Our first trip, at the end of May, was a washout.

As soon as we arrived at Strumpshaw Fen, the leaden grey skies released a torrent of water. The volunteer in the visitor centre gave us a sympathetic look. "You won't see them today," he said. "They hate the rain and wind."

He was right. We walked the reserve in the downpour, saw no butterflies at all, and came back soaked.

The only Swallowtail we saw that year was on a large soggy poster.

The only Swallowtail we saw in 2021

A rather wet Strumpshaw Fen map

The Marsh Harriers Didn't Mind

The butterflies were a no-show, but the Marsh Harriers didn't seem to mind the weather at all. We watched them quartering the reed beds — big, impressive birds of prey that made up for the missing Swallowtails. We also saw Cuckoos and Jays going about their business, completely unbothered by the rain.

It wasn't the weekend we'd planned. But those harrier sightings were genuinely special, and I might have walked straight past them if I'd been staring at wildflowers waiting for a butterfly.

Coming in to land

Trip Two: Back in Sunshine

A year later, we were back in Norfolk for a long weekend in June. This time, the weather was perfect: hot, sunny, and still.

We started at Strumpshaw Fen again, and this time I was glad I'd learned to pack for the terrain, not just the forecast. My waterproof boots felt like a badge of experience earned from the previous year's soaking.

We saw green-eyed Norfolk Hawker dragonflies resting on reeds — a species found almost nowhere else in the UK.

We watched a Great Crested Grebe with three tiny babies on its back. And from a hide, I spotted my first-ever Chinese Water Deer — its comical tusks and teddy-bear ears a complete surprise.

Chinese Water Deer — tusks and teddy-bear ears

And then, as we walked past the historic Doctor's House, it happened.

Two Swallowtails in the Garden

Not with a grand announcement, but as a quiet flutter in the dappled sunshine among the garden flowers. Two of them.

I felt my breath catch. For a moment, I forgot I was even holding a camera.

The Swallowtail's wings weren't just yellow — they were the colour of pale lemon silk, so thin the sunlight seemed to shine right through them.

My camera came up and I fired off a few shots. They were really just snapshots — proof I was there rather than anything I'd be proud to frame. The butterfly was partly lost in a messy background. But after a year of waiting and one very soggy weekend, even a messy photo of a real Swallowtail felt like treasure.

Gracefully, they moved from flower to flower. After a year of wishing, here they were — and they'd appeared not on some remote fen path, but in a garden, right next to us.

Hickling Broad and a Better Photo

The next day, we visited Hickling Broad Nature Reserve — and it was here that the Swallowtails gave us something even better.

We arrived early to near-solitude and almost immediately, a Swallowtail darted across our path. Too quick for a photo, but a wonderful hint of what was to come.

At one of Hickling's thatched bird hides, we met a woman who'd spotted Swallowtails nearby. Following her direction, we found one posing perfectly. Its red-orange spots glowed, and the blue patches sparkled in the sun.

Side view — the red spots and blue patches catch the light

This time, I slowed down. Instead of just zooming in and firing, I reached for the aperture dial. By choosing a wide aperture, I could let the background melt into a soft, dreamy blur, making the butterfly the focus of its own quiet world. It was one of the first times I'd deliberately chosen a camera setting to create a mood rather than just recording what was there.

The click of the shutter was deliberate, satisfying. That photo — clear subject, soft background, the butterfly at peace in its world — was the first wildlife image I was genuinely proud to share without making excuses for it.

Swallowtail in an interesting pose!

It was also here I learned that Norfolk isn't just about the butterflies. A Willow Warbler singing from a treetop, an otter we spotted on the final day — these were all things I might have missed if I'd been staring at wildflowers the whole time.

If You're Planning a Swallowtail Trip

From two trips and a soggy poster, here's what I'd pass on:

• When: Late May to mid-July. June is usually the sweet spot.
• Where: Strumpshaw Fen (RSPB) and Hickling Broad (Norfolk Wildlife Trust) are both good. From our experience, Hickling gave us closer, longer sightings.
• Weather matters enormously. Swallowtails need sun and still air. If it's raining or blowing, they won't fly. Check the forecast and be prepared to adjust your plans.
• Go early. Fewer people, calmer conditions, and the butterflies are often most active in warm morning sun.
• Pack for the terrain. Waterproof boots even in summer — the fens are wet underfoot. I learned this the hard way.
• Look beyond the butterfly. Both reserves are packed with other wildlife. Norfolk Hawker dragonflies, Marsh Harriers, Chinese Water Deer — the Swallowtail is the headline act, but the supporting cast is wonderful.

Further Reading

About the Author

I'm a wildlife photographer who learns on everyday walks. This site is my field notebook: practical photo tips, gentle ID help, and walk ideas to help you see more — wherever you are. I write for people who care about doing this ethically, who want to enjoy the outing (not stress about the gear), and who'd like to come home with photos that match the memory — or at least the quiet satisfaction of time well spent.

Read more about me