There I was, inspired by the lightly ruffled waters of the magical Ynys-y-fro Reservoirs, composing what was to become the very pinnacle of my creative photographic output. I framed the image, waited for the perfect combination of light and wind, closed my eyes and pressed the shutter... only to find, on getting home, this abomination of nature had sailed into view. Foiled again!
NB. When describing the reservoirs as "magical" I should point out that I mean their consistent lack of interesting bird life tests one's very belief in such things as the basic laws of biology, physics and mathematics and leads inexorably towards a belief in evil little anti-rarity pixies huddled in the run-down garage at the bottom of the slope, whiling away the hours playing evil little pixie games of three-card brag (eschewing, as they do, the more recent and complicated poker variations), only interrupting the game to pop out and paint any scarcity that does turn up in the livery of the most closely related dross,... the little bastards. One of the Coot on the top basin is an American whose bill/shield has been given a lick of Dulux 'brilliant white' and whose undertail-coverts have been daubed with the same manufacturer's 'classic black'. This, of course, leaves two burning questions: 1. which bloody one!?; and 2. why do pixies always buy Dulux?