On my way to the shops today, the car seemed to turn, of its own volition, towards Blacktoft Sands. The reedbeds were very quiet, almost deserted, apart from a few marsh harriers and a cattle egret. A dozen bird-watchers were squeezed into Singleton hide, diverted by the lively antics of an otter.
Licensed today: the broad main street of Chipping Sodbury, a market town in Gloucestershire…
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