It wasn't very much, really, was it? A single paragraph in what is for me a short post. Having the inclination to post but a lack of news to post about, I thought I'd go into a bit more detail and generally bore the socks off you.. ;)
Twitching, why do we do it? I've had a few conversations about the subject recently, and more adept bloggers have aired their thoughts too - indeed I've prattled on about it on here in the past. What possessed me to drop everything and go haring off across the country [well, a bit of it], spending far too much money on petrol and so forth, to see a bird? I'm not a competitive lister [except on my Patch, and as I'm only competing against myself I can only lose ;) ] and the whole 'genetic hunting instincts' thing cannot, imho, explain this behaviour fully. If it was just the hunt, the Tick, then as soon as I'd seen it, I'd lose interest, wouldn't I? I certainly wouldn't stand around in the thistles and nettles for an hour and a half enjoying watching the thing. CaveBirder would say "Made kill, now go home before sabre-tooth gets you!".
Certainly the adventure is a part of it - the risk, the payoff - but for me the biggest bit is the discovery, the learning - seeing something new, something I've never seen before, something special. In this case a very prettily-marked bird which should be on the other side of the Atlantic, not poking around in a very-nice-if-very-hard-to-view scrape in dorset.
Ok, enough of that nonsense, time for more details on the day itself! I'd had the "Holy shit, a Stilt Sand in reach!" moment in the morning, followed by the deflation of finding out it had flown off and not been relocated. Adult Stilt Sand was fairly high on my list of desired waders [ie. right behind the 'It's Personal' section] and for one to be close enough to go for on a day I could go for it... At least the Hayle PGP was on a workday when I didn't have to stress about it so much. There was a time, of course, when the cost of living was lower and I was earning more when I would have gone "Ah, it might be hiding and if not I can always watch the baby Marsh Harriers!" and have gone up anyway, but I have to be more fiscally responsible, so its tart-twitching only.
Then the sudden reversal, the bird has been seen again; it's on-site, just being elusive. Whole different kettle of fish. In scenes very similar to the last trip I made to dorset [ah, and that brings a happy smile to my face...] I was off with optics, notebook, a bottle of water and my trusty flapjack! The drive to dorset is a reasonably scenic one, and with a clear run is enjoyable to drive and be driven, with lots to see out of the window and some nice roads. Spectacular panoramas, archaeology, and the real chance of Corn Bunting are on offer, sometimes in more detail than you'd like, as I've never met a main road more prone to long-distance tractors! I don't get it, really I don't - you move your tractor around your farm, you need to use roads, fair enough, but going on for miles and miles and miles.... The journey out was made interesting by meeting a 50-car queue led by a tractor with a huge trailer - about the length of a coach all together - followed by.. another tractor with an even bigger trailer. Ye gods and little fishes. The two together meant only an F1 car could overtake these 30mph monsters on anything but dual carriageway. Fun. Way back had a pair that had been cutting hay going at 20mph, but they were nice enough to pull over and let the waiting hordes past.
Arriving in weymouth is a lot more interesting these days, too. There used to be a lovely bit of road [when coming in from dorchester] - fast ridge then a drop into a serious hairpin. I don't know if the spectacular accidents you could envisage ever actually happened, but a LOT of money has been spent to remove the issue. Hills have been carved, bridges built, and they're still not done. It does make getting to Lodmoor a little simpler, just don't go looking for signs to it as there aren't any. :)
Lodmoor is very like Exminster - much excellent habitat, some of which you can view very well and a lot you really can't. Plus no hides [though it does at least have something to sort of keep the rain off - RSPB are you listening?]. The local chavscum are of course responsible for the lack of hides, having burned the old ones - they were well in evidence on Sunday, yelling unintelligible and doubtless unintelligent abuse from their passing novas and saxos [probably, though with all the plastic they stick on, I doubt even they know for sure..].
Anyway, a very good looking scape was mostly hidden by reeds, but popping in and out of view was the [very well-camouflaged] Stilt Sandpiper. Sandy-cheeked [ear coverts is a daft term, they're cheeks!] and rufous-crowned [also referring to anything but red as 'rufous', though orange just about does, with the historical connection, I suppose], streaked of neck and barred of belly, this elegant bird was a real cracker, oh yes. [[Another thing - why does the Black Book show them all fluffed up? Doesn't convey the elongate, tapering nature of the bird when active, tut tut.]] With motions varying between Ruff and Godwit, it looked a lot bigger than it actually was, as the odd passing Green Sand [which were bigger] showed. Stilts have been described as 'Curlew Sands with extra leg', and in flight this is very apt - the rump/tail is indeed as close as you'd expect, as is the shape and size, and you'd really need a side-by-side to be sure about the wingbars, I think - though there was no sustained flight to really be sure.
Being there for an afternoon rather than a day, I gave it an hour and a half then stopped off to admire the Common Tern colony. Watching the comings and goings, the to-ings and fro-ings, as the adults brought sand eels back to their yarking juveniles. :D Radipole for the Marshies would have been nice [even more if the Beardies had put in an appearance] but time was wandering on, so back I toddled.
There, wasn't that fun?
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