The sun was shining on saturday morning and, having seen a forecast for sunday, I decided to make the run out to Elmley. A heron obviously decided that flying off was too much bother and he posed for a while keeping a wary eye on me. Eventually he was driven off by one of the local lapwings repeatedly diving at him and screaming his disapproval. I must have been early because it seemed even the birds hadn't fully woken up for the day, a yellow wag male watched me over his shoulder from his little tussock as he began to warm up for the day in the sunrise.
The welcome sounds of snipe were unmistakable and, despite sublime camouflage, they gave their positions away and stayed for sketches. It's great to have a site that's reliable for these secretive birds and they will always brighten a morning.
Although the swallows have returned to the toilet block this year it seems as though only one of the nests is occupied. Numbers are definately down and I hope that the last three days of solid, constant, heavy rain and strong winds haven't finished off any chances the small number of young have had. The sparrows seem not to have noticed though and their cheeky antics are wonderful to see around the car park. The walk out to the hide saw a flyover by a pair of hobbies and plenty of reed buntings and mipits moved among the reeds and along the track while the corn buntings jangled. Scrapes are still dominated by avocets and some of the eggs have metamorphosed into fluffy balls of chick that mum and dad watch over with admirable vigilance. I resisted yet more avocet sketching and caught a preening redshank and ringed plover instead. All in all a pretty good day, which was a good job really as sunday was a washout. The rain pelted down all night and the wind drove it hard. Ever the optimists, Andy and I drove out through the building flood telling each other that the rain would soon let up... Some chance. Birds were quite sensibly staying down and attempting to stay dry. The snipe put in an appearance and one or two lapwings rather crazily stood in the road with rain dripping from their downcast beaks. The scruffiest, wettest most miserable looking pheasant I think I've ever seen was the only other bird who showed and even ruffty- tuffty outdoors types like Andy and myself had to admit defeat and head for home. We did call in to riverside country park on the way back during a brief respite in the downpour and watched all the soggy, sorry looking small birds as they took advantage of the short let up to stock up on a few insects for the babies. A chaffinch did his best to sing up the sun but to no avail and, as the rain started in earnest again, we gave up and went home for hot coffee and a couple of comforting bourbon biscuits.
Mike