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Conversations with fellow birders usually involve the different ways of saying how quiet the birdwatching is. Key words like 'dead', 'rubbish' and 'quiet' are already on the lips before the first intake of breath. Today I just had to overcome the malaise of everyone's disappointment with the Reserve and take my rare oportunity to actually get out and birdwatch.
It is a weird sort of satisfaction in summer to have the pleasure of seeing 'overgrown' areas of rough ground. Ground bulging with the common plants noone likes anywhere else and it is pleasing to hear and see small birds skulking amongst it gleaning food stuffs.
Overhead though a hobby cruises the New Pit boundaries to the south, snatching airborne insects with such speed I barely believed it was happening. It was enjoying much success and therefore allowed me many minutes to stand and stare and think. Hobby's hunting really make you think.
Chowder had fully filled and left me no high mud to scan for waders. The whispy calls of a common sandpiper caught my ear about 30 seconds before I saw it skimming the water on rigid arched wings, searching for space to land.
A yellow wag passed as I watched a buzzard soaring to the south of Chowder. Feel good factor and my mind wandered to a place far from everyday.
well today I would rather say tranquil than quiet, attached rather than dead and rubbish? well, one man's rubbish........
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