counting coots

Somebody who I share a certain amount of genetic material with has been unwell. The somebody who has been unwell, is better than a short while ago but not as good as the ideal. There is more doctoring to be done before restoration of full wellness. I felt that it was a good idea for me, and Mrs Thing, to visit said somebody and to check on some 'business' at the same time. The visit was good.

Hence the absence, and the huge fall in fatbirderism. The visit that we undertook was in the county of Norfolk. Some of you may have heard of it. Despite the nature of the visit to Norfolk, and the metaphorical cloud that was hanging over it, there is always time for a cheeky visit to Cley on the way back, eh?

Look!

Loads of fucking Spoonbills!

Normally when I see a Spoonbill they are sitting in the corner of a scrape/lagoon. Sleeping. But not these ones, they were proper bloody bonkers Spoonbills. Bonkers! Look at them! Look! Running around and everything! With a bill shaped like a fucking spoon! Look! They are mad.

The reserve had just shut, so this was as close as we got, but I nevertheless whacked out the trusty germans and got stuck in. Mrs Thing was mildly surprised by the amount of rudewordness caused by these birds so I insisted that she have a look at what all the fuss was about. "Have a look, they are like a big Little Egret but with a spoon shaped bill, honest!" "Yeah, yeah, as if a bird round here is going to have a bill shaped like a .....wow, they have a bill shaped like a spoon!"

Bonkers! Spoonbills! Kinell!

Then a Marsh Harrier came over and sent the whole marsh up.

Spoonbills in flight!

Spoonbills doing bonkers, in flight.