What Is It With The Weather?!?

I mean, seriously... First its August, then its back to February?!? I had to scrape the ice off my car this morning..

Yes, I'm being very British and going on about the weather, old boy. Yesterday it was schizophrenic up on't Moor [and not in the usual way, either]. Blazing sunshine, ok. Howling gale, ok. The two can go together, especially up there. But then the howling gale dies away completely and it heats up like nobody's business. Que? I'm ranting, I know, but I feel vexed and you, my dear readers, are the ones who get to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm pretty much done. I do feel a little better.

Right then.

Moor. Folks. Little Black Dog. Said Dog was in particularly frisky mood - though the party of hackers [on proper shaggy Moor horses {That film is ridiculous in so many ways} ] were quite amused as she bounced around on the end of her extendo-lead like a rubber ball as Dad reeled her in.. Oh dear, off track already. ::Deep breath:: We parked at Lanehead and climbed past Hare Tor and Chat Tor to Great Links Tor, returning via the edge of Tavy Cleave. Great Links has some truly fabulous views across west Devon and Cornwall - at least when its not hazy - and is one of my favourites. Despite being on the edge of the Moor it rarely gets really crowded, as whichever route you take you're going to suffer for it!

Despite the wind, it wasn't a birdless day, with four notable events! In chronological order;

Tilbury, always covering about seven times the ground we do as she follows sniffs and tries really hard to get us to chase the sheep, acts like she's seen something in the long grass to our right. There's not an animal in sight, but she's up and doing her meerdog. Suddenly a head pops up - oh, that's a grouse - yes it's a male Red Grouse! He shows wonderfully as he starts walking away from us, meandering through the tussocks. Best. Views. Ever. After maybe ten seconds he decides that, no, even though that horrible little black dog has been reeled in and isn't even barking at him [she stayed quiet the whole time - perhaps the oddest thing of all!], its time to go. With a quick call he takes off and flies out of sight over the crest of the hill.

Then again, Tilbury Dog sniffs out more Grouse! A pair, who are closer to us in among peat hags and fly off almost at once - this time looping right around us in a huge arc before landing not that far from the path we're following, though we don't flush them again, fortunately.

Now up in the sky, where a five-way Buzzard barney gives us wonderful views, with the birds lit up beneath by the sunshine reflecting off the dry grass..

Finally, at Nameless Tor*, a gorgeous male Wheatear!

Never mind your Cranes and Ospreys and Red Kites and invisible Garganey - those Grouse beat them all! Not the closest view I've ever had [that was a second or two of mutual heart-attack at maybe 5 feet in the North West Passage, before the fire**] but definitely the best. Day and indeed umn. :D

[[* It has no name on the OS, and I refuse to call such an impressive outcrop 'tavy cleave rocks'.]]

[[** Before all the heather was burned off***, Cut Hill was quite good for Red Grouse. One time, when walking up the NW Passage, {which is in places pretty much person deep}, I turned a corner and met a pair of Red Grouse. They were on the lip, at head height and about 5 feet from me. Grouse don't go quietly and let's just say it's debatable who got the bigger shock...]]

[[***Not swaled - thus the long-term damage. For legal reasons, I can't say more about the party responsible or what I'd like done as suitable consequences.]]