Around the a**e end of Llandegfedd Reservoir is a field gate with a novel warning sign. Couldn't see any sign of the snorting monster amongst the herd of milkers, but rest assured one step on the wrong side of the gate and the said beast would no doubt appear as if by magic to toss you around the field like a rag doll.
Like Wayne Rooney's thatch my loyalty to Llandegfedd Reservoir is wearing thin at the moment. With some nice stuff appearing up and down the county surely something requiring a description to get it past the County Rarities Committee and onto the pages of the annual Gwent Bird Report will appear at this most celebrated of nature venues soon.
Once again I sat in the car for half an hour waiting for the rain to move on before venturing out - thank Britain for its rich creative culture and prog rockists Porcupine Tree's In Absentia album for filling the void. When I eventually got on the move I was joined by an intermittent flow of flyover meadow pipit. At Greenpool there was a hint that wildfowl are starting to gather along tribal lines with tight flocks of up to twenty coot and teal. Several chiffchaff were singing when I caught sight of the soft underbelly of a up ended waterbird bobbing in tune with the wake of a fisherman's boat. On closer inspection it was a dead great crested grebe entangled in fishing line and hooks. The family party of a late brood of grebes now reduced to single parent status. Not much else to report other than another black headed gull with metal ring.
Once again I sat in the car for half an hour waiting for the rain to move on before venturing out - thank Britain for its rich creative culture and prog rockists Porcupine Tree's In Absentia album for filling the void. When I eventually got on the move I was joined by an intermittent flow of flyover meadow pipit. At Greenpool there was a hint that wildfowl are starting to gather along tribal lines with tight flocks of up to twenty coot and teal. Several chiffchaff were singing when I caught sight of the soft underbelly of a up ended waterbird bobbing in tune with the wake of a fisherman's boat. On closer inspection it was a dead great crested grebe entangled in fishing line and hooks. The family party of a late brood of grebes now reduced to single parent status. Not much else to report other than another black headed gull with metal ring.
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