A Bit Blowy...

 

What idiot is going to be plodding the beach on a day like this?

Twice in the last three days I've taken my exercise walk on - and adjacent to - the local beach. On Wednesday my birdy highlight was...let's see...oh yes, a Snipe. A single Snipe flushed from somewhere I wouldn't have expected. This afternoon's was better; it was a pair of Pintails, maybe the same pair that I saw on Monday morning. They were dead jumpy, and the moment they spotted me flew off to the far end of the Mere. I was not the slightest bit bothered by the meagre return for my shingle-slogging efforts, because conditions were dire on both occasions, and to be honest the getting out and walking was more important than the birds. On Wednesday the air was full of drizzle and spray, and busting along at about 40mph; this afternoon was equally blowy, and I got caught in a downpour. So, totally soaked both times.

This photo was taken from the same spot and just moments after the one above, but facing the other way. In both cases a bit of zoom compresses the perspective and adds a nice touch of drama.

On Wednesday I had the beach to myself. Ditto this afternoon. Completely alone. Which is how I like it. Regular readers will know already that I like a bit of solitude. However, when I got home I was reminded how fortunate I am to be able to indulge this preference whenever and wherever I like. Waiting for me on Twitter was this...

Reading Lucy McRobert's article took me back 30 years or more...

When we lived in Rickmansworth, Sandra and I used to know a couple named Tony and Kate. Like me back then, both were keen runners, especially Kate. Their home was in a built-up area several miles closer to London, and one day Kate asked if I would take her on one of my rural routes near Ricky. I had a lovely six-mile circuit based on the River Chess valley near Sarratt. It was entirely off-road, taking in the best of the local countryside - the riverside meadows, woods and hills. Getting back to our cars, Kate said, 'What a gorgeous route! But what a shame I can't just come out here and run it on my own...'

I was well aware of the lewd comments and abuse Kate occasionally got from men in passing cars when out running, but had never twigged that she might actually feel in danger. She explained that, lovely though my route was, it was simply too isolated and scary for her to contemplate running alone. The penny dropped. As a man I felt no such fear, not in the slightest, but simply being a woman turned a quiet beauty spot into a place of threat. I have never forgotten that conversation, and Lucy's article brought it all back. Some of her own and other female birders' personal experiences are described, and the resulting effects, and they are thought-provoking to say the least. Lucy's piece is entitled 'Call it Out', and on that note here is a related story...

Some years prior to my run with Kate, her future husband Tony witnessed a bunch of men hassling a young woman on a London Underground train. The details are a bit blurry to me now, but I recall that they were young office types, suited and booted. Tony sat watching, gradually becoming more and more incensed. Plucking up courage, he walked over and intervened. In Lucy's words, he called it out. Telling him to mind his own business, the ringleader turned and took a swing at Tony, punching him on the nose and putting him on the deck. The young woman immediately stood up, and in a quavering voice informed the bloke he was under arrest. She was an off-duty policewoman. I remember Tony recounting how she held out her warrant card with a trembling hand. And sure enough, the man was duly taken into custody by the Transport Police.

At the time I wondered whether I would have had the guts to do what Tony did. Thankfully, Lucy's article makes clear that nothing quite so dramatic is required. Her closing words:

We need men to stand with us and show the best side of our vibrant, warm and welcoming wildlife community, a community I love and one that I hope more women can be part of.

Yep, can do that. Happily.