Yesterday started slow (chores to do). Off work this week (was 21 again on Monday and off to Ladies' Day at the St. Leger meeting today). Managed to get out at 3:30pm and needed a Harry Hill moment - South Tyneside or Newbiggin Golf Course? The latter won the fight.
Headed to the Barred Warbler's place, the golf gorse (golf gorse! Golf course! Almost poetic!). En route, noted it was Wheatear frenzy across the SW corner, and at least two Whinchats.
Wandered to the gorse, and saw little until I met a great guy with a collie (Priest, I believe his name was (the bloke, not the dog). And readers of this blog will know I could often do with some religious intervention!).
We chatted about what had been seen and what was sought and he explained that The Big Guns (Messrs McElwee, Dack (x2), Cleeve, McLevy and others) were on their way here to look for an odd warbler. So like one of those irritating school kid autograph hunters who follow the celebs about, I waited and followed.
And behold, stars from the east, and tales of Lapland Buntings, Wrynecks and warblers. And then, the intervention from a higher being (Mr McL) and the Wryneck was in the burnt gorse (fka the burning bush?). But after a few seconds, it was up and off towards Barreds-ville at the side of the ash lagoon.
And more plodging in the foliage revealed Redstarts and Willow Warblers and a Pied Flycatcher and more Wheatears and Whinchats. Magic!
But, in the words of the comedy icon Jimmy Cricket, 'There's more.'
Mr McL had had word of a Whiskered Tern at East Chev, so it was time for more gazelle-like lollopping (is that a word?) and in the car heading north. And on arrival, my tripod had mysteriously become a bipod (hence the retort, 'I had one but the leg fell off') but nonetheless it still afforded me views of what was speedily converted into a WwB Tern, and with it, at least four if not five Black Terns.
And on the way home, my lost leg was recovered from the SW corner of the course and is now glued back on!
The End (thank the Lord).