Yesterday I went to Slimbridge, avoiding the children. Drakes skulked, flashy green heads reduced to manky little stripes of dull green. Collected together, they looked like morning-after-a-hard-night blokes - apparently it is called "eclipse plumage" - that should have told me that I wasn't likely to see too much in early August. But it was so lovely to be back; to watch the otters sinuously swirl through the water and wish I could join them, to potter round the bird hides pretending to be an expert. I don't have the patience but it was quiet and I spotted lapwings and heard them calling, and what I think is probably a sandpiper. There are interesting new sections opening up but, scuppered by Covid they look half finished with no actual wildlife, just structures.
There is also a lovely summer walk along the estuary and it was so good to feel the breeze riffling my hair into spikes and to hear both breeze and the crickets murmuring in the grasses. I'm not the best at bird identification, but I learned one trick - birds are, like me, creatures of habit - so find what they like to eat and watch. In this case, thistle seeds; baby goldfinch was my reward. I also know that the clunky rustling of leaves in undergrowth is usually Mr or Mrs Blackbird making a racket in search of breakfast.
Which leads me nicely to the delights of having a proper Premier Inn Breakfast. It was a one night away day so I took a pot of porridge for rescue. But thankfully a streamlined version of my favourite in the world meal was available. Plus copious amounts of hand sanitiser after using hot water machine/toaster etc. Poor hands!
And so to Tyntsfield despite the satnav which tried to route me through Easton in Bristol. Which I know from experience is a crawl. The only times I have been to Tyntsfield it has rained or been pretty cold and dull so today's parkland 5 mile walk was such a delight.
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