23 May 2014

Water levels going up

An afternoon peering out of the hides at an increasingly soggy Goldcliff produced hardly anything of note.  The tide came in, produced precisely one summer-plumaged Knot, one Ringed Plover, two Curlew and two Dunlin, and then went out again.  Eight Whimbrel had flown east earlier and a fair few House Martin did their best to entertain, but it was, to all intents and purposes, a total waste of six and a half hours of my life that, unless someone gets off their arse and invents time travel, I shall never get back.

The moistest of Shelducks.

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