Plover Porn

I'm looking forward this being a popular post with search engines, but in truth only the first part is accurate. Well, mostly - the second is partially accurate I suppose. Remember those Golden Plover I blogged about yesterday? Well they were still there this morning, and in fact had been joined by a third bird overnight. Amazing when you think about it. Yesterday I had felt they were fairly approachable, but selflessly wanting to give others a chance I didn't push it. This morning, knowing their likely reaction, and with the light much better and nobody around that hadn't seen them already, I approached a lot closer.

As you know, my real job is working in a bank. I enjoy it very much, but I also enjoy other things, and at this time of year I'm able to lead a double life. Before I even get to work I'll have spent a couple hours on the patch, and usually I'll take a camera. So it was that at around 8am, fully suited-up underneath my waterproofs, I found myself flat on my stomach on the largely frozen mud of Police Scrape, slowly shuffling forward towards three small waders, with a large lens resting on my bag as support in front of me. It was filthy. I tend to get to work before a lot of the team, so largely have the opportunity to get undressed in peace, thus transforming myself from a muddy wreck and into the consumate professional that I undoubtedly am. A few of them know of course, but I explain that everybody needs a passion in life, and that mine is just a bit stupider than most peoples and involves freezing my butt off for two hours before they have even got up.

Anyhow, my Plover approach worked like a dream - my camo red hat was probably the deciding factor in my success - and I was able to get some shots that I'm pretty pleased with all things considered. After I'd finished, which was mostly dictated by my approaching bus, I backed off the way I had come, dragging my kit with me. At a suitable distance I crouched up and stood in a deep puddle I hadn't previously noticed, going through the ice and filling my right ankle with some nice cold water. The Plovers cared not for my plight and continued to sit around doing nothing, so I packed up, skirted round them and proceeded to the bus, where the people waiting gave me the sort of looks usually reserved for errant creatures from the deep. I casually flicked some mud off my elbows and fished out my Oystercard. It had been a good morning.