It Really Won't Do

All this messing around, not posting until days after the fact, sparing you from deranged rants and pseudo-philosophies... Call myself a blogger?

Anyways...

Friday saw me trying to get at least a little bit of solitude up on't Moor - none of that on weekends now, with the TenTors hordes - my original intent had been to get on the north Moor, but the Army had other ideas and were busy making big 'splosions up there, so the south Moor it was. Starting at Shipley Bridge, I followed the lane onwards before making a right and taking Diamond Lane [now much repaired and almost navigable] up onto the Moor, going via Long Barrow to Hickley Tor, then up to Three Barrows. The thick mistyfog which covered much of the landscape failed to reach up onto the Moor itself, and everything was bathed in bright sunshine. Skylarks sang and a good-sized flock of Golden Plover [when they finally flew in a line long enough, I counted 118 of them] wheeled and settled, wheeled and called. Not bad, not bad at all.

Three Barrows is one of the high points of the south Moor and commands impressive views, or at least it does when you can see them. Stall Down and the Erme valley were visible, and very pretty in the sunshine. A few people were about, mostly following the tramway, but not in any great numbers. [[Yes, yes, antisocial git...]] Nothing spectacular came by while I was having lunch, and I moved onwards, linking up with the tramway by the bridge - where a Snipe and a Reed Bunting were noteworthy if fleeting. Its good going but the scenery is a bit samey and I found myself doing more litter picking than birding. Hmm.

I took a path off the tramway up to the Western White Barrow [the one with the surprise inside] [[No, I'm not going to tell you what, or it won't be a surprise when you go there!]], then followed the path from there to the Submarine. A nice spot out of the wind was unfortunately taken by mozzies, so I sat in the wind. Finishing my coffee and munching a trail mix bar thing [it was half price and I figured it'd be worth a go. Verdict: not bad, probably better on hot summer's days than a great big flapjack, but not worth paying full whack for. Too many rice crispies in it to charge that much!] I kept an eye on the surrounding slopes. No Hen Harriers. Mipits, lots of Skylarks, the odd Crow. That annoyed Raven who'd been perched on the conning tower until I arrived and now was circling periodically, saying rude things about my Mum...

I followed the ridge back to Shipley, then, with time in hand, tried a couple of sites for Dipper. And dipped. Then I tried the Great Mandarin Messup site and finally found where to park and how to get at the river... So simple when you know, so bloody impossible if you don't. But anyway, there I was. I got past the Guard Muscovies and was rewarded with no less than 8 pairs of Mandarin, showing very well indeed. :D Brilliant!

Saturday saw me working, then bashing the Patch. A party of overflying Crossbills were the undoubted stars on a day when, despite interesting conditions, not a single thing was forthcoming from the sea. Herring Gulls and the odd GBB. Even the Shags were staying out of the water. Huh.

With the Stone-curlew doing the expected bunk on Saturday night, I growled over to Exminster once the main rain had cleared to look at the Barnacle Geese. They were very pretty, showing well opposite the Estate. The American Wigeon eventually showed very closely too, though there was much to-ing and fro-ing before I finally had it at close bin range from the road between the Estate and the lane. Before that, much fun was had picking it out for people among the 400+ Eurasians still present. I got home, had a bite and gave the Patch a bash, with the Firecrest taunting me again near the Theatre. Still nothing on the sea, though this time with the wind onshore it was more expected.

I'm still vexed about missing that Stone-curlew. Oh well, maybe in another 5 years? Or 20.....