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You have found us. We are a secret group of crack birders who have turned our backs on the machismo, corruption, and backstabbing greed that constitute today's birding scene, and have united together to follow the True Path of non-competitive, collaborative and generally lovely birding-as-meditation-and-spiritual-growth. Consequently, we never see anything. Birds that land right in front of our noses, and which we can identify with our observer book, are written about here. Oh, and they have to be seen in - or from - the parish of Winterton-on-Sea, Norfolk, or on the walk round past East Somerton Church ruins and up the concrete track to Winterton Holmes (because it's a nice walk which we all do).

Sunday, 12 June 2011

12 June 2011

Four of us went on a collective trip to see the Golden Orioles at Lakenheath today, and were promptly rebuked for our profligate waste of fossil fuels when Tim called and said he had good news and bad news, and that the bad news was that we were at Lakenheath. We bravely slogged on through the day, racking up some decent birds (heard the Orioles, saw Stone Curlew) but eventually the drizzle, and the agonising thoughts of dipping out at Winterton forced us back to the parish and after about half an hour we managed to hear and see the Marsh Warbler Tim had found earlier. An excellent songster, it gave homages to Nightingale, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Linnet, lawn mower and Tommy Cooper in its versatile vocal performance, and at one point, after it had been hidden and silent for a while, a great tit called and it promptly mimicked it exactly, before launching off into another eclectic jumble of references. An excellent end to a comradely day.
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