Today is a bit like that sequence in “Goodfellas” just before the DEA/ATF come crashing through Ray Liotta’s door (except without all the naughty stuff of course) – I had to check a party of visiting archaeolgists were safely ensconsed on the coast, get the missus to a concert she’s playing in this afternoon, then pick up Mrs D’s folks and my mum and get them to the concert, find somewhere to park in Southport on the hottest day of the year, pick up some shopping, …and there’s two singing Wood Warblers at Marshside on the golf course (and naturally there’s a golf tournament on).
Thanks to Playful Pete Allen and Alan Wright sending updates I was able to detour to the marsh and catch up with one of the lemon sherbet heads as it spluttered away by the public footpath along the bank.
Glorious. Just glorious.
As Shaun Ankers and I tried to get glimpses of the Wood Warbler in the shade of the sun-blasted canopy, a Lesser Whitethroat started cranking up behind me, so close I could almost hear it draw breath between rattles – where to look?
Lovely to be spoilt for choice on the marsh, and the Wood Sand was still on Fairclough’s Pool.
Right back to concert taxi duties – you know it’s getting busy when you try to open the fridge using your car key fob…hmmmmmmm!!!!