Further adventures in the wibbly wobbly.

A trip up to Hesketh Out Marsh to see Stuart Darbyshire’s fine, if distant American Golden Plover seemed the best course of action on a warm, sunny Sunday in June.

It was either that or bugs and plants, and I imagined the dune system would be busy in the good weather.

The bird was at the back edge of the first lagoon on HOM East (right where Stuart had left it) at 1230, and while ‘scope views were okay, the heat shimmer over the water made photography ill-advised at best.

Revisiting the shape and jizz of these leggy Yankees whenever the opportunity arises is always good hygiene of course, but closer would have been better!

There are worse places to wait for a wader to perform than HOM though especially with the summer sun burning your neck and Arctic Terns dipping and swooping around the channel right in front of you….

Very peaceful (if you blot out the Sunday clay pigeon massacre blasting away in the woods behind).

Yellow Wagtail, squadrons of Avocets, a calling Siskin headed west and Blackwits, Oycs and Lapwings passed the time.

At 1345 a helium balloon (stop using these bloody things please) drifted across the site and spooked everything. Presumably on its way to choke livestock or wildlife somewhere.

All the waders including the AGP flushed and I lost it to view – the bird could have cleared out, or it could have dropped into one of the many bays and creeks obscured by the vegetation…

I checked HOM West in case it had gone there, but there was no sign, although five Eider were feeding on the first lagoon, occasionally diving, occasionally dabbling and often clashing with the Little Egrets…

Ah, a sunny afternoon at HOM in June, that fickle tickle of Horseflies on the back of your leg, before the bulldog clip pinch and there’s another chunk of your calf heading west….