Pointless

My search for migrants at the Point of Ayr and Talacre this morning certainly came up trumps, although I did not expect them to be seven eastern European workers playing football on the beach!

Truth be told, it was hardly classic conditions for a fall, but considering the recent spell of light north-easterlies I had hoped for at least something. The best I could muster was two Snipe, a Bullfinch, a Kestrel and six Stonechats – hardly the stuff of legend.

I could have started a little earlier too. Quarter-past nine in the morning could hardly be called ‘getting up with the larks’ and it does pay in this game to be out and at ‘em at first light. This tactic also means that one tends to step on virgin territory and affords you the chance of covering the ground before Fido goes out on his morning constitutional.

I am going to persist at this location of the autumn though. The warren is full of bushes bursting with fuel-laden berries – a veritable service station for passerines on the move. It was like walking through a banqueting hall with all the tables brimming with food just before the guests are due to arrive.

With the high tides coming up over the weekend, I will probably have another crack of the whip on Friday morning - a little stroll across the dunes searching for migrants, followed by a few hours in the chair seawatching. Sounds just the ticket.

Until later.