Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow
A strange day, with soporific spells interrupted by sudden bursts of 'happening'.
The first occurred at 06.15hrs when a tight flock of c400 Sand Martins appeared low over the point, slaloming through the bushes as if water flowing around a boulder. They were silent, which matched the calm cotton wool weather.
The second was a mass emergence of flying insects (sorry, I cannot be more specific) that shook up hundreds of gulls into a spot of aerial snacking, to be joined by 1,000+ Starlings, doing their best to mimic feeding hirundines.
And last, but not least, when the sun burned away the stubborn cloud in the early afternoon up to 200 Migrant Hawkers took to the wing, filling the lower trapping area air space with their erratic patrolling.
The first occurred at 06.15hrs when a tight flock of c400 Sand Martins appeared low over the point, slaloming through the bushes as if water flowing around a boulder. They were silent, which matched the calm cotton wool weather.
The second was a mass emergence of flying insects (sorry, I cannot be more specific) that shook up hundreds of gulls into a spot of aerial snacking, to be joined by 1,000+ Starlings, doing their best to mimic feeding hirundines.
And last, but not least, when the sun burned away the stubborn cloud in the early afternoon up to 200 Migrant Hawkers took to the wing, filling the lower trapping area air space with their erratic patrolling.
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