Chuffed

Finally we reached Broadhaven where we were to stop our walk and return home. 

We had to admit that our hike had a couple of gaps in it, but one thing that made our happiness complete was the wildlife.

The Pembrokeshire coast didn't disappoint. The flowers were lush, the insects extraordinary and we even saw on the path (at different times ) a fox cub and an adder.  A very fond memory will be standing on the clifftop watching a seal colony including several playful pups. 

However, my favourite is always the birdlife. There was a nesting colony of guillemots, some fulmar, ravens and kestrels, and a peregrine which glided and then stooped on its prey. All around were stone chats, linnets, larks. 

Best of all, we lost count of the number of choughs. We have come to characterise them as 'fun' birds because of their cocky call 'keeaw' and their playful way of flying.  They are generally out and about in pairs and busily probe the short turf on the cliffs with their long red bills. 

All in all, despite my failure to walk the complete path, we were chuffed.

Chough drawn by me

A Peregrine in a Pear Tree

A couple of Saturdays ago Christmas preparations were boiling up to frantic. Every year I feel a strong pull to make my way into town and shoulder my way into the scrum. Like a salmon swimming upstream.

Could I resist?

Birdwatchers had been tweeting. A rare hen harrier had been sighted in a rushy river valley close to St Albans. 

So instead of going into town, we walked along the River Ver until we spotted a cluster of folk in bobble hats clutching binoculars and the odd outsize ‘scope.

The little flock of bird watchers was friendly and communicative.
The hen harrier had been through earlier but was nowhere to be seen now.

Nigel and I stood for a while and saw red kite, heron, egret and all manner of titmice.

And then, flying over, a large falcon. Everybody whooped. (Quietly - they are bird watchers after all.) They trained their scopes on the sky. It was a peregrine. Nowhere near as rare as a hen harrier but still worth a restrained cheer.

Even better, a hapless buzzard flew into view and the peregrine began to attack, stooping from a height, swooping like a bullet, until it drove the larger bird away.

We never did see the hen harrier but neither did we get caught up in the Christmas consumer madness. And I won’t ever forget that peregrine.