Here comes the big one

Now there’s an optimistic blog title if ever I wrote one. But you have to hope. Some people forecast imminent changes in the weather using seaweed. Some refer to pine cones. Me, I swear by the occurence of anchor-handlers. The more of them moored offshore from us and not out plying their trade in the open North Sea, the worse the weather is going to be. (For worse, read absolutely splendid as it’s going to be a really snorty south-easterly).

Yesterday’s anchor-handler forecast was a whopping 3 on the Big Rusty Tug-thing Scale, which should mean we’re in for a decent spell of rarity-friendly weather. Yesterday’s efforts still failed to yield anything of note, with just a Chiffchaff spanging around Skaw. Try as I might, I couldn’t make it into a tristis. Not that I cared particularly. Bird of the day was a rather sad affair – a Yellow-browed Warbler on the edge of the planatation. Or rather more accurately, on the ground on the edge of the plantation. To be absolutely specific, the remains of a Yellow-browed Warbler – some wings, and a bit of head. Catted, presumably, as there are 3 unpleasant small black feral numbers mooching about the place. Daisy Dingo has her instructions…

No sign in the afternoon of the Bluethroat reported from Brough. Elusive wretch.

not tristis

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