Evening flight

The sun was sinking into the rapidly ebbing waters of Morecambe Bay. The flocks of redshanks and oystercatchers were beginning to move from their high tide roosts on the Warton saltmarshes to their feeding grounds on the mud of the Bay. I have an idea for a photograph when the sun is dissolving into the water, but it can't be predicted, the right bird has to be in the right place at the right time. This wasn't it.

Eduardo departed this morning after his whirlwind gardening activities yesterday. With his hedge trimmers, our Escallonia hedge was cropped in less than a quarter of the time it would have taken me. The massive growths of ivy that were overhanging the road outside the house have been safely pruned back for the first time ever (and there is still plenty of cover and food left for the birds).

As for me, my body has been converted into a highly efficient factory producing weapons-grade man flu viruses. This in part explains my blip absence yesterday, and my slowness in getting round to thanking all those who favourited the apocalyptic sunset of Friday night. Believe me I am grateful and staggered by the reaction to that one.

If you fancy something more subtle and muted than sunset shots, then please look at my back blip from our Sicily holiday. It's my favourite shot of the trip. It's a shame that we so rarely have time to look at back blips, I don't need comments, but it would be nice to know it had been seen a few times.