Why do seemingly rational people go swanning off to cold dank bits of winter countryside - risking life, limb, and laundry bill - in the name of birding?
For this.
Sunday, 'somewhere in Devon', and while normal sane most people were tucked up in their homes with warm drinks, a couple of birders were out in the cold, windy wilds* in the company of;
Spirit Of The Moor
Oh.
Hellz.
Yeah.
:D
Hen Harrier on a wall!
Chilled, precipitated-on, out well after dark [!]... Ecstatic!
Be Seeing You...
[[* For reasons that should sadly be obvious, no specifics... ]]
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