The wilds of Uskmouth

Staked out Reedbed 8 late this afternoon/evening in the hope that the Bittern might flap across in front of the viewing tump; didn't happen, but both Hen Harrier and Short-eared Owl did put in appearances. However, the highlight of the tripette was seeing Pob doing a circuit of the cycle-path, I tried to stop him for his autograph but he just blew a great big raspberry and cycled on muttering "Pob, er Pob, er Pob, Pob, Pob, Pob,..." By the way, his hair has changed colour and his legs are much bandier than they used to be (or perhaps he was riding a much smaller person's bike, or perhaps it was some bloke that just looked like Pob [if you struggle with 1980s children's TV references see here]).


The view from the tump (tump, tump, tumpitty-tump [note to self: must use the word 'tump' more often]), I can't work out if this photo is evidence of: a. nature's resilience/rebirth against the odds; or b. the ever smaller corners of the UK into which nature is shoe-horned.

PS. Who is it leaving little piles of cheap bird seed on the fence posts down there? Do we have some sort of Hänsel und Gretel fetishist stalking the reserve? I do hope so.