What larks

Calandra Lark today on Fair Isle, and Black Lark in Norfolk (where that?). Like my Murphy’s, I’m not bitter.

Bastards.

Sorry, that just slipped out. Oblivious to all the lark-stuff elsewhere, I was feeling pretty good about myself today. Finished planting a buggerload (technical term = “many”) of potatoes, pleasingly finding I’ve still got tons of dug ground left over for various cabbagey Siberian Blue Robiny plants. And did tons of other crofty stuff besides, mainly involving chickens. It didn’t feel like a day for birding, being as it was a bitterly cold north-easterly, and I’d been promised south-easterlies later in the week. Little did I know…

Bastards.

Oops. There I go again. Forgot to mention our lochs are swimming with Red-throated Divers now, and saw my first Wheatears of the year on Thursday. Very nearly collected them on the front of the car, but that’s another story.  A pair of Eider sneaking around the shore below my fields this evening – they looked like they were up to no good. Either planning on doing over some houses tonight, or else thinking about getting down to some hot Eider action somewhere nearby. The filthy sluts.

So why so sanguine about the gripping lark news? Well… I made a special work-trip for the Black Lark in Wales all those years ago, so that’s kind of okay (though to be fair, they’re awesome, and I’d probably sell a kidney to find my own). Calandra… ooer, that’s getting harder to cope with. Missed one last year by virtue of being too stuffed after a big car accident to get to Unst to see it, meaning every Shetland lister and lowlister saw this top-notch beastie except me. So why so sanguine? Ah well, I have some lark news of my own. Well, not really my own at all, which is why I can’t share it. I’m the kid in the playground chanting “I know something you don’t…”

Edit : no, I’m not suppressing something. Tch, some people!

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