Mostly Whoopers with a sprinkling of Bewicks and some White Fronted Geese a distance away.
|Some say he eats steel nuts and bolts in his muesli|
|Golden Plover Stig|
It was a beautiful morning with a sharp white frosting and an amazing Red globe just managing
to lift itself above the horizon, the world felt good.
As usual a bite to eat upon arrival and meeting Trish then on to the reserve.
For the photographers amongst us and I do use the term lightly, the light was all we could have
Gravitating toward the 360 hide a few Black Tailed Godwits dared to pass DJs formidable lens,
dam shutter would not fire he explained! After a while after seeing most of the usual culprits
including some sleeping Pintail we moved toward the other nearby hide.
Dave decided to stay put, probably waiting for those pesky Black Tailed Godwits, to show again
I shouldn't wonder.
From the other Hide Mark picked up a female Scaup, me being ungrateful wishing it was a male.
We were all treated to the courtship behaviour of a pair of close Goldeneye. Watching the male
throw his head back and forth attracting the rather nice female.
I suspect he wasn't going full tilt tho' as he only went to about 90 degrees, lazy so and so but she
still seemed very interested.
On leaving the hide a few lovely black and white moo cows were eating the vegetation nearby.
It was about then a few mortal words were uttered, White Billed Diver only 20 miles up the road.
Now I know that our very own 'Stig' is not a twitcher but those words must have stirred things, where
things haven't stirred in a long time.
So a very technical plan was hatched, we would leave straight away, see the bird and return later,
after all it wasn't that far away. Leaving the car park a large bus was letting its ageing occupants
loose onto the reserve, maybe a blessing in disguise I thought.
Now this escapade deserves a book by itself, so I shall keep it short.
We had parked close to where it had been seen previously only to be told it was 3 miles further up the river Witham!
We decide to drive to gain access further north. After driving for what seemed almost a decade
I could feel the vibrations emanating from Bob the Stig.
After a walk of ONLY three miles south again beside the river we were very close to our first position!
Carrying my weighty lens I was beginning to wane, but spare a thought for DJ, having a real back
problem just could not make it and had to return back to the car.
EVENTUALLY !!! we engaged with the mythical beast which was a White Billed Diver !!
not a white bellied dipper as described to DJ on his sojourn.
|HOO BLOODY RAY!|