Dressing a turkey

Now we all know that Baby J managed to feed the 5,000 in later life, but is that any reason for us all to try to emulate the feat during the festive season?
The supermarket was chaos.
It was like the final hours of the fall of Saigon, as life and death struggles played out over the Satsumas and wrapping paper.
We do not need all this stuff people.
Mercifully I had been sent for only two easily grab-able items and before you could say “consumerism gone mad” I was clear of the aisles, free as a bird and heading for Lunt Meadows.
The reserve was pleasingly quiet, with two Short Eared Owls already up and hunting over the grasslands to the south at 1.15pm, occasionally tussling and squabbling with a screaming Kestrel.

The Shorties ignored me as they sailed about, their big owlly faces locked on the rank vegetation below and frequently plunged into the grasses.
I enjoyed watching them for awhile before the site started to get a bit busier so I walked off north, where one, possibly two, Cetti’s Warblers were intermittently singing from the brambles that cloak the bank on the way up to the Pump Station Pool.
I even saw one, albeit briefly.
Another called just by the car park as I was pulling out and a third Short Eared Owl broke cover up past the Garganey Scrape.
Goldeneye, Tufties and Pochards dived on the lagoons amongst the dabblers, but I couldn’t see the recent Long Tailed Duck as I squelched around the reserve – more a reflection on me than the duck I suspect…

A few Redwings went through as the light faded away – there were 15 at Dempsey Towers today, but still only four Blackbirds, as the thrushes finally discovered our berry-laden Cotoneaster.
Wishing you all a great Christmas – thanks for still reading the blog.
I look forward to blogging with you all on the other side.
Ho ho ho….