Where is my Wheatear?

Late, that's what. Another fruitless hour on the Flats this morning, enlivened by the sight of Cocker Spaniel puppy chasing Skylarks through the rough grass. Excellent. I took the owner to task - I have a prepared speech these days. Hopefully he got the point, and as a bonus, I didn't get stabbed. More signs are needed, as he genuinely didn't have any idea.

Another dead bird at Alexandra Lake, some three days after the last one, is fairly worrying. A Coot this time, died with its eyes open. I find it difficult to become emotional over a Coot I have to admit, but it did make me spend a lot more time looking at them today that I would normally. They are so demure, socially tolerant and easy-going. Softly softly, friendly, passive and calm.

Suitably soothed after watching the Coots go about their business, I turned my attention to the other denizens of the Heronry Pond. A Mute Swan looked very pretty, and then to get my attention started doing it's best Coot impression. A Canada Goose played the part of the other Coot.

I sat in the sunshine with Pudding for about two hours, simply watching the few birds in front of me being affectionate. We were warm, and happy. And from behind the Tea Hut of Happiness, a Chiffchaff sang, my first of the year. Spring has started. Somebody tell the Wheatears!

"Could you drop a line my way?"