Just add water

Rain, rain, rain.
Before the spits and spots turned into a downpour there was time for a circuit around Lunt Meadows this morning, where at least one Barn Owl was hunting over the grasslands past 10am (it must be tough feeding a family at the moment), and a Gropper was reeling away with considerably more effort than I have heard for a few weeks.

I was soggier than a crash diving Great Crested Grebe by the time I’d finished, but the Cetti’s Warblers were in good voice (at least three birds singing today), alongside Reed and Sedge Warblers, Blackcap, Whitethroat, Willow Warbler and Chiffchaff.

The menacing clouds pushed good numbers of feeding Swifts and hirundines (mainly House Martins) down low, but this concentration of Hobby bait didn’t produce any falcons.
The Spoonbill was hunched up and snoozing away (quelle surprise) for most of the time, although it exploded into a frenetic burst of activity for at least 40 seconds before shutting down again, almost as if the rain had forced the bird into action.
It must have been exhausted with the effort of striding for all of 50 metres and attempting two feeding sweeps with its great big galooty bill.
I captured this dynamic adventure (for a Spoonbill anyway) on a wobbly video – it’s dark, and popping and crackling as the rain hits the P900 although this does make a change from a snoozing white Spoonbill-shaped blob.
You can watch the video on YouTube here.
While the bird was awake, the thought occurred to me that there are few things in nature that look as daft as a summer Spoonbill… apart from an ageing birder trying to watch one in the pouring rain.

Spoonbill, Loonbill, time to dry off.