Monday, February 18, 2019
We drove six hundred miles to look at some flats on the Isle of Portland, and after a walk round Radipole Lake in Weymouth, Greger suggested going to Lodmoor. We've been there once before when it was drizzly and grey and not seen anything, but it was handy for the hotel, the evening was lovely, and so we parked and paid for the third time that day. (Radipole and Ferry Bridge in the morning.)
When we saw two waders in the distance, I assumed they were both ruff. But the second bird came closer and I realised I was looking at my first-ever lesser yellowlegs - much more like a wood sandpiper than a ruff, I realised. I snapped away, but better pics were taken the following day, also in golden evening light.
I was losing the good light now, but earlier I'd watched Mediterranean gulls coming in to land with black-headed gulls.
They were very vocal, and the call to me sounded like "yeeow". I also heard the lesser yellowlegs, as it flew towards me uttering a "tyu" not unlike a redshank but quieter and less panicky.
We had a short walk at Portland Bill and then enjoyed a good lunch at the Lobster Pot - where a rock pipit rooted about near our feet and on the tables for crumbs. Two lovely, sparkling days.
But I was already feeling ill, and by the time we reached Burnham Beeches the next day I suspected I was in for flu. We had an enjoyable walk in the woods that afternoon, and a second one the next morning - but no lesser spotted woodpecker was seen or heard. Back home, I'm in the throes of the awful hacking-cough flu, which I last had in 2010 - this despite a flu jab in the autumn. Wrong strain, I s'pose.
// posted by Christine @ 9:14 AM 
