TV Dominated

 Saturday May 6

Being in an age bracket well within that which remembers the previous coronation, seventy years ago, I was looking forward to that of King Charles 111. I am not a monarchist, but I love all the fantastic pomp and spectacular showmanship of our British ceremony. Especially the marching guardsmen, their bands, and the fairytale coaches. Maybe most of all the horses.

We started watching at 10.a.m., finishing at 2.45, after the disappointingly truncated fly-past. The rain and low cloud put a kibosh on that. The morning was punctuated by Heather and daughter Fiona, appearing at our door armed with a three tier cake stand containing two different sorts of sandwiches, sausage rolls, chicken nuggets and cakes. Heather was carrying a bottle of Prosecco. We were overwhelmed by their kindness. How lovely of them.

On a warm and sunny afternoon, we drove to Balranald where the campsite had many more occupants than the last time we drove past. We took the track out to Ard an Runair, becoming the lone occupants of the car park. A real surprise. A few Sanderling, Ringed Plover, Dunlin and Eider. An occasional Gannet, Little and Common Tern flew by. 

At the T junction just past the campsite, a birder was standing in the middle of the road, gazing intently at the nearby verge. We turned left, pulling in a few yards later. We heard a Corncrake call, very briefly, and then not again. The birder was back in the road. We drove on to the loch around the corner where I had my first House Martin of the year. A few more padders, including a Moorhen, before driving back, parking on the verge near the Corncrake site. Fortunately there was just enough room for the tractors and trailers to pass by. A few more calls, a lot of patiemce - and sharp-eyed Pam spotted a Corncrake showing its upper half at the other side of the field.

 

The bird showed again, briefly, a couple of times, before we moved on to drive CR. The male Hen Harrier showed for a couple of seconds, along the ridge, Wheatears, Stonechats and Meadow Pipits fled from the road.

On the return journey, we enjoyed watching four Ravens chasing about over the pine tree belt before starting the downward  drive home. Pam stopped, she'd seen a Short-eared Owl beside the road. Fully expecting it to have gone by the time we'd reversed, it was a joy to find it sat tight. And there it stayed, whilst I pleaded with it to turn and show both eyes in the sunlight. 

 

Then, when it didn't, I asked it to fly please. No. 

I made mouse noises. I sang 'Desmond has a barrow in the market place'  loudly, it put its ears up.

 

I clapped. 

Pam started the engine, then hooted. Still it sat. Was it deaf?  We were not in a passing place, so when a car approached we had to drive off, leaving the owl still sitting. I have never before attempted to disturb a peaceful bird - nor anticipated such abject failure.

We drove in through the open gate to find two breeding rams in the small field adjoining the garden. Fiona's large Texel cross and Heather's Blue-faced Leicester.  

 

Something we can see and enjoy from our french doors. Heather is breeding pure Blue-faced these days and paid rather a lot for him and two ewes. She didn't want to own up to how much.