An improvisatory, essentially indefensible, randomly configured tragi-comedy
(no great revelations are likely to be accrued from its consumption)
16 March 2012
Migrants, plural,... just
One of two proper incoming migrants today, the other, a spanking male Wheatear was much better looking but much further away. The take home message dearest birds is, if you don't come close, you ain't gonna be famous,... think on Mr. Wheatear, think on.
Whilst the Chiffchaff and Wheatear were trying to sell the 'spring is sprung' line, a female Merlin sat atop a Hawthorn oozing sang-froid amongst the alarm-calling Redshank, doing her best to bring a wintry (or wintery,... your choice) feel to proceedings. Rather predictably, given the woeful height of the 'high' tide, wader numbers were crap: one Spotted Redshank, one Black-tailed Godwit and 34 Avocet.