The Lincolnshire Bird Club

2 stonehat on Chowder this morn and 13 redwing .

Alternatively, jottings from my wander.



The eastern sky bulged with greying clouds. Tall Giants, shoulder to shoulder, growing, nearing. The west awash with bright sunshine with blinding swans causing a squint.

Reeds hissed and rustled.

Gathering ducks dotted the Pits, chaffinch and dunnock brought noise to the hedgerow.

Water rial and bearded tit called out of sight.

Chowder was a resting place for golden plover, anxious in regular swirling flights, mixing with lapwing. The sunshine splashing stardust onto their whites and their golds.

Skylark, meadow pipit, linnet in higher numbers, in groups. Autumn.

Curlew stride the stubble field.

Two male stonechat perch and flit across summer's most frigid tallest yesterday plants, a digger slubs away at the ditch.

The grey lumps muscle across the sky. Conflict between the what we want and what we don't. The sunshine splits the rain drops and empties the colour of happiness across the Reserve. A bee eater rainbow, but the plea fails and the heavy mob drains the flush of autumn hues.

Always enjoyable when you are in full flow Andy

Exclellent - especially the bit about the digger slubbing away at the ditch.

Perhaps there ought to be a competition for the best post submitted in verse?

A great chunk of British poetry, right back to medieval times, takes its inspiration from birds.

Andy is following in the literary footsteps of Chaucer, Shelley, Keats and many more