Calidrids at the point, there's a Sanderling in there,... there's also a pale-headed wintry Dunlin,... fill yer boots!
Compared to Saturday and Sunday, it transpired that Friday was a bad choice for a seawatch. One each of Fulmar, Sanderling and Barwit, and a dose of Whimbrel stopped us from throwing ourselves into the drink but did little to increase the heart rate. Nothing particularly noteworthy at the pools either, although, an hour or two counting newly hatched nippers and a potter round nest monitoring, did mean I'd gained muddy bins and a vague whiff of saline goo before I made it home.
Popped in on a breezy Ynys-y-fro on Sunday. Bit of a hirundine/swiftfest,... and then it was home for a cuppa and homemade stodgy chocolate brownie-type things.