I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Ten and a half hours in the car on Saturday, many carbon emmisions, and for what? For a boring brown bird with a spiky hairdo that I have seen loads of in France, and a small black and white bird looking a lot like a Pied Flycatcher. Stupid huh? Yes, but tick-tastic and a very satisfying day, rounded off with about 8 Manx Shearwater off the Bill with a side-order of Puffin. Having said that, on Saturday night as I crawled wearily into bed at abouyt midnight (in the process waking Mrs L up for the fifth time that day (1) 4am alarm, (2) Closing the front door, (3) Closing the front door again, (4) Opening and closing the front door when I got back, and (5) Getting into bed), my sincere hope was that no rare birds would be found on Sunday and I could just stay at home and do the patch.
The gang did very well this weekend. We all got the Lark and the Flycatcher, and David the Obsessed jammed in on the Eastern Bonelli's Warbler while he was at it AND drove to Merseyside for the Pallid Swift. I debated this latter bird, but could summon up no enthusiasm for more time in the car, which I guess makes me a twitching failure.
...or maybe it just makes you sane?
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