Work of late has seen me spending muchas horas sitting in various degrees of shite weather counting birds. Hey, I'm not complaining...but in the fourth hour of trying to decide which birds out of that ever-moving flock of 500 dunlin are in my count zone I can be forgiven for feeling a little crazy.
However, the joy of birding is that every so often it throws you something wonderful and makes you feel that life is really pretty special after all. I'm not greedy - no mega rarity for me - and a bird as commonplace as the sturdy old peewit can brighten my day.
So, during a coffee/fag break sat in my car on the edge of Langstone Harbour I was delighted to spend twenty minutes watching the antics of a spanking adult male winter plumage lapwing hunting for fat juicy earthworms on the grass embankment of one of the busiest roads in Hampshire. Undeterred by the far from idyllic setting, this chap diligently paused, listened then
plucked unwary worm after worm from their subterranean boltholes.
And you know what? In this mood even a Black-headed gull can seem beautiful....