I had the happy surprise this afternoon of putting up a small party of three golden plover on the long walk around my traps. The first thing I recognised was a plaintive, gloomy whistle, repeated twice from the bare hill a few yards to my left. All of a sudden, three sharp-winged shapes rose out of the grass and raced off quickly over a dip in the horizon. It was too quick to take a photograph and they didn’t reappear, but I knew what I had seen.
I love golden plover, and despite the fact that they are such infrequent visitors to the Chayne, I’m determined to learn more about them. It could be that the birds I saw were looking for somewhere to spend the breeding season, in which case I’ll need to be extra vigilant with foxes and crows if they’re going to have a good chance of success. I don’t see them often, but when I do, it’s always a thrill.
Bog Myrtle & Peat 