There was a pool table in the pub last night, and I was playing ‘killer’ with the locals, which meant I woke up this morning with a sore head. So I went for a walk this morning around Pagham Harbour, an RSPB reserve. I saw a kingfisher dive into a river and, moments later, a stoat swam across it. I watched a big, noisy flock of brent geese on the saltmarsh, interspersed with redshanks, oystercatchers, curlews and whistling wigeons. I spotted a pair of pintails, a small flock of grey plovers and, best of all, a great white egret in flight.
Bird watchers are friendly folk, on the whole, happy to chat, share their finds and point out some rarity to the uninitiated. But this morning I found the exception. “Have you seen the grey plovers?”, I said to a guy looking through binoculars. He looked at me with utter contempt. “They’re everywhere”, he said. “That’s like saying you’ve seen a sparrow”. I hope Santa brings him something nice for Christmas, like a sunny disposition...
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