An improvisatory, essentially indefensible, randomly configured tragi-comedy
(no great revelations are likely to be accrued from its consumption)
11 June 2011
Over the sea to Dunye
"And opposite to this Clyff [Goldcliff], about the midst of the Severn, lyeth a small Isle, called Denny Island." Monmouthshire, Blome's Britannia 1673. Unbelievably, Denny has its own Wikipedia page which, amongst all manner of other incredibly interesting facts, states that the island first appears in the historical record as 'Dunye' in 1373 and that, in Old English, the name means 'island shaped like a down (i.e. a hill with a rounded profile), see here for more Denny titbits, a perusal of which is guaranteed to instantly cure insomnia.
The amount of fishing gear, litter and general anthropogenic detritus on Denny (and throughout the estuary) is beyond a fucking joke. This is what happens when an adult Cormorant gets a 1.5 inch barbed hook embedded in its carpel joint and and the hook, and attached line, becomes entangled on the tree mallow adjacent to its nest. I'm guessing this bird died of dehydration/starvation over the course of several days. We also found an unfledged chick, still within the nest, with a hook lodged in its throat and line hanging from its bill, presumably having been fed the discarded gear by an unsuspecting parent whilst still attached to a fish. Good job fisherfolk,... good job.
At this age, everything is cute,... even Great Black-backed Gulls,... even when, moments later, they shit all down your leg.
PS. Oh yeah, and this is what happens when Charlie Brooker [you know, him off the telly] 'retweets' a link to your website; getting on for 3,000 visitors precisely none of which are interested in either 'Gwent' or 'birding' and all because of this.