Last night I had another attempt to see the East Chevington Bittern. It was cold with a light N3 and quite dull. I was alone.
Standing out in the open, in silence, as the evening draws in hones the senses. The wind feels sharper than usual, each of the odd drops of rain and hail tapping on to my shoulders sounded like someone standing behind, but most of all birds were calling every where. 60 Pink footed Geese 'winked' as they came to roost, a Snipe 'drummed' briefly then croaked as it flew off to feed. Wigeon could be heard whistling, competeing with the breeze in the fence wire and Lapwing, Curlew and Coot all had their say. All the while, a Barn Owl, flew around the meadow with deeply rowing wing beats.
Down by the hide, in the gloaming, two dark, heron -like, shapes lifted from the reeds to fly low over the water surface on bowed heavy wings. Unfortunately, they were just that. Herons. No Bittern for me this evening...
2 comments:
Very poetic, I enjoyed reading it. You must be a poet at heart.
I wonder what my friends would say to that one OC...:-)
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