What. A. Guy.

No, not Ace Rimmer, but one of Devon's true greats.

Why the public accolade? Well, there was this Stone Curlew what had done popped up at the Warren, and the inevitable had to happen: I had somewhere I had to be; a follow-up appointment for every birder's most valued asset. I then also, very daftly, listened to my heart not my head and thought 2.5 hours would be plenty of time to get over, leg it across, get the bird, then leg it back. Ha ha ha.

So I had to do something very hard: Turn back. I was well along the beach when I hit the point of return, and finally realised I couldn't make it. So I - with no small amount of annoyance at myself for thinking I could pull the twitch off [despite the massive delays for traffic, more traffic, idiots, and the sodding ticket machine, which held me for 7 minutes yesItimedit!] - tore myself away from the siren call and made my appointment with 2 minutes to spare.

I was then told, after the 'further tests' that I wasn't going blind. So yay.
[This is something of an understatement, but I had a Stoney on the brain at the time]


Then I went straight back to the Warren.



Of course I did, were you really expecting anything else?


It was a bit quieter, and the few birders I met were this time [ delayed shout out to JoKing, the Daves, et al, who all had had it on visit 1] full of 'no sign of it'..... Oh sweet [CENSORED]

But the tide was rising and it was probably hiding behind the island. And I wasn't giving up. I may have said "If I have to wade back in the dark"

As it happened, I didn't as the Man of the Hour, Day, and quite possibly Year arrived at the hide, to tell me the call I thought was either me going nuts or, well, that was it 'definitely nuts', was actually the bird flying right past! He'd found it - ok it had found him, being hidden somewhere very sneaky - where mere mortals may not tread.

Fortunately, it had plonked down in The Desert, so over we toddled.

Hmm, where is it?

Ah. Same routine; hide somewhere you can't be seen until you flush! But, this time we were ready, and got some insane flight views. Yes, a Stone Curlew in flight. Will wonders ever cease? No, because I got flight shots....

Stone Curlew!

Likely the weirdest funkiest thing you ever did see!

That shape...

The deranged black and white hand, the hunchbacked posture, the weird stoned Com Sand wingbeats, the eyebrows and moustache thing, and the Eye, the burning Eye.....


Oh dear.


It flew by, it circled round, it flew by again.


I had been very sure I was going to dip. And probably get wet / chased by the Warren weirdos.  But the Star appeared and used his magic bird-summoning powers, just like he did not so many years ago to finally break the Curse of the Kentish.


Devoted readers know of whom I type;

Yes, I speak of that Titan among birders, Ivan Lakin.


We are not worthy.


I salute you.




A longer post, with bad pictures of terns and a Wheatear, may well follow after I have wound down enough to sleep.

Also, I have Winged People, and some more moffs, including my first noctuid for this blog! Woo!


Be Seeing You...


[[See? Told you I'd do it! ;) ]]