Throat Fine, a bit Red but Couldn't Swallow

At 5:30 am today, West H was bright, cold, breezy and dead.  Despite a half hour of wishful thinking, nothing to raise the heart rate nor temperature, other than perhaps a brief glimpse of the back of a Whinchat south of the main pool, just as it dropped into the reeded area.

Arcot was, well, as Arcot is at present, dead.  Even the Mute Swans left SW towards Big Waters' probable comparative excitement.

9:00 am and off the Newton-by-the-Sea as the Bluethroat had been seen twice and this would be a Lifer.  Parking the Mirthmobile near the Tin Church, I asked a bloke if it was showing still, and indeed it was.  First tick of the day, as the bloke was none other than the Stringer himself (We're not worthy!  We're not worthy!).

And then the ornithologically orgasmic experience that is the Lifer.  Unbeatable (say nowt to Mrs Liverbirder!)!!:

After the bird was spooked from the wall by two local equestrians, it went high and down into the corn field, a good few yards in from the ploughed strip, so off the Hauxley on the way home to see the Red-backed Shrike.  Bumping into Tim Dean and then Morgan, the bird's exact whereabouts were unknown, but then Alan Jack, Joe Dobison, Michael Frankis and another chap whose name is still a mystery pointed to where the bird was (across a field) and voila!

News from Mr Sometimes and his lieutenant indicated that the Red-rumped Swallows remain at Lynemouth, off south, but alas, despite the birding surveillance from two Dacks, a McLevy, and a few unknowns, nowt.