After the best part of two weeks confined to barracks, a half hour up at Crossens grabbed at lunchtime was a breath of fresh air.
Even better as a Water Pipit dropped down right in front of me, just a metre or two beneath the pavement by the pull-in.
But before I could get bins on the tail-pumper and start enjoying close views a family party of Pinks flapped in and spooked the pipit, sending it skittering up into the air.
D’oh! Bloody geese.
Luckily it popped up again on the first pool just below the wildfowler’s pull-in, a few minutes later, and although a bit further away I was able to watch the bird feeding undisturbed for ten minutes amongst the Blackwits, Ruff, Snipe, Lapwings etc.
They blend in amongst the splashes of water, cow-poached mud and tussocks so well, but those pale undercrackers always give them away.
A fleeting few moments but after a world restricted to bird-feeder action (nothing wrong with Blackcaps etc but you can have too much of a good thing), fly-over Fieldfares and an errant flock of Whoopers taking a loop out from the mosses, they did the job.