counting coots

I had a dream last night.  The basic synopsis is this.  I'd been to see Avatar, but it was rubbish.  In reality I haven't been to see Avatar, so I cannot say if it is rubbish or not.   What I seemed to be watching wasn't the proper Avatar, but a rubbish version will all the CGI complexity of a ZX Spectrum.  So far, so dream.  I left the (not really a) cinema and headed onto the patch.  Of course I did.  Anyway, I was looking over the railings into the Thames and there was a female Blackbird on the foreshore.  My dream head had this down as a Skylark even though it was manifestly a Blackbird.  I then looked to my right and there was a dead Razorbill!  Whoa!  Patch gold!  And it was lying on a dead Cormorant.  That had a serrated bill.  Okaaaaay.  I took some pictures, as obviously this sort of thing is blog magic and I'd want to take the counsel of my peers to know how often Razorbills end up in ...the alarm went off.

So there you go, I cannot tick the Razorbill that I saw in the patch.

Because it was dead.