Hold tight.


The wind was tearing across Plex this morning and the sun was hard and bright – hardly ideal conditions for another entirely fruitless Dotterel hunt (if they were predictable, everyone would do it, and the tracks would be a nightmare).
Whitethroats were grimly clinging to perches as the wind scooped up topsoil and the place went all dustbowl on me.
Only three singing Corn Bunting, but the morning was getting on…
Little moving here today (apart from the topsoil) – just a few Wheatears, but at least the Lapwings are settling down again after the latest round of ploughing.
Dropped into Haskayne Cutting on the off-chance it may be a bit sheltered, but the place was like a wind tunnel apart from the southern section, where fading Orange-Tips were still feeding on Cuckooflowers.
Blackcap, Chiffchaffs and Whitethroats, but this was not a day for checking through scrub and willows as they were tossed about like seaweed in a storm-tide.


When you start thinking about getting into hoverflies, you know it’s time to head for the hills.