Yesterday afternoon was nice and sunny and I noticed some Swifts high above the house. It occurred to me that the summer was nearly over Swift-wise, and I'd better get out there and look at them. There were six or seven, which is all you can expect over our garden nowadays. Not only will the Swifts be heading to Africa very shortly, but fewer are making it back each Spring. I watched them with a mixture of pleasure and sadness.
This morning was cloudy, and showers were in the forecast. I got to the patch and was greeted rapturously by Paul and Anna's very affectionate cat. Once I had got it out of the boot I was able to start birding. I chose the road route in the vanishingly faint hope that I might find a Pied Flycatcher in the surrounding woodland. Like Swifts, the British population doesn't hang around and the chances of finding one reduce each year. Needless to say, my score remained on zero.
A flock of Tits, Nuthatches and warblers kept me interested, but I failed to chance on anything better than Blackcap, at least six of them. Eventually I was back at the flash field where the recent showers had at least increased the size of the puddles, not enough to encourage any Green Sandpipers to return, but there were at least nine Lapwings, three Mallard, a Black-headed Gull, and six Moorhens present. Before I moved on, the day's star bird appeared, the Lapwings and BHG taking off nervously as a large juvenile Peregrine dashed across the field, my first here since March. Amazingly a very brave Lapwing rose and gave chase, seeing off the Peregrine for a while.
Shortly afterwards the rain started and any thoughts of looking for something to photograph had evaporated. Back at the car I totted up 43 species, none of them a Swift.
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