Dear Reader - what a beltin' evening in the company of the Guv'nor. A call at 6:21 indicated the Little Owl was relocated and in the open. Into Cruella mode and off at all due speed to Beacon Lane. En route, a text to say it had disappeared.
So, in position, looking west, towards the fence posts, and some direction from Himself that the hedge would be worth a through check. Bush No. 1? No! Bush No. 2? No! And on to Bush No. 6 and Bingo. And after a wee while, off it flew to No. 1 where s/he stayed for over an hour whilst we chewed the fat. And then it flew north, low and out of sight, obscured by a dip in the cornfield. Time to move position, at which point The G had ornithological Tourrettes and uttered, 'Ring Ouzel!'
A 'blackbird' flew in high and veered north and whilst the state of shock caused Mr G to freeze (or may be he's gettin' on a bit!), the Liver-legs as described last night negotiated the bend in the path like Usain Bolt to see the bird land in a hedge but facing away. Dull bill? Yes. Lighter wing panel? Yes. White crescent? Yes, but just about visible whenever the bird turned to its left.
And then it dropped into the horse field, and through the medium of digital photography, a Patch Lifer for the Big Man (but a third one for me!).