Slasher

What's that? Wow, a kingfisher. I took until December to see one last year. But I couldn't find Mandy. She was meant to be on Seafield Pond but was being reclusive and retiring, as mandarin ducks naturally are, making them surprisingly hard to see, even the ridiculous peacock drakes. Trying to find a way to view of the back of the pond where she might be hanging out, I failed to see a fence and went flying, fell right over. Had to laugh. Anyway, I gave up and started the trudge out to the shorelarks. Having failed to find snow buntings on the beach (again), I considered my options but fell into existential crisis. I was in sync with the day: bright, enthusiastic, optimistic... and suddenly you realise it has turned, it's over, dying - already?! But it had only just begun! And there's just something about this place that gets to me, spooks me. Wide open spaces should engender freedom of spirit, but not here. At that point I just wanted to get out of there, just get on the bus and go home again. 

I hurried sweatily back too get the next bus. The place was inundated by dog walkers as usual. The path runs along the edge of sinister forest, alongside a rather odd rare breeds farm kinda place, among whose inhabitants is a flock of flightless rheas. One poor canine found a striking white individual of these large birds pecking those to the path rather disturbing and strained in perplexed yelps in its direction. While I inside cursed the canine (or rather its owner), white rhea wasn't in the slightest bothered. With those feet, would you be? Those slashers could do serious damage.