A rather impressive hangover this morning precluded a swift exit and dash to Rainham for a Bluethroat. I missed it by about two minutes. I stuck around for as long as I could, but needed to be back so that Mrs L could selfishly pursue her hobbies. Naturally the Bluethroat popped up again just after I had left, and showed on and off for two hours.
Approximately two hours and five minutes later I arrived back at the same spot, and despite giving it another couple of hours, dipped again. Nicely done I felt. I'm going to give it a try tomorrow morning before the reserve opens, hopefully it will a) be there, and b) may feed in the open without the hordes.
In the meantime, here is one I prepared earlier.
So why am I bothered? Strange, isn't it? Here is a bird that I saw beyond excellently only a week ago, and yet I'm fretting over dipping this near-identical one. Let's just call it the joys of county listing and leave it at that, as there is no rational explanation. Oh wait, yes, I'm a sad loser with a mild case of obsessive compulsive disorder. Yes, just mild. Believe me, there are some absolute fruitcakes out there.
The day was rescued by a very smart Tree Sparrow on the feeders outside the visitor centre, my first for the reserve, and also an Essex tick. Like you wanted to know that.
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