Wonder of the Day

Last night's forecast predicted a decent onshore blow for the morning, so I made plans. As a veteran of countless dire seawatches in conditions of great promise I ought to know better, but cannot help myself. I was up at first light, and hurried outside to get the moth trap in. I would cover it for now, and see to the contents later. Oh, but look, there's a moth clinging to the underside of the funnel. I'll just quickly check to see what it is. Looks like an upside-down Black Rustic perhaps...

Oh my...

Not a Black Rustic.

Since this autumn speciality first began to appear on my Twitter feed, I have been hoping. And hoping some more. The larvae feed on oak, so I've been worrying that perhaps there aren't enough oak trees nearby to make its appearance a realistic possibility. But clearly there are...

Just look at that! A fresh and gorgeous Merveille du Jour.

What a moth!

Merveille du Jour translates to 'wonder of the day'. Very appropriate. It has certainly been the wonder of mine.

The seawatching was going to have to go some to top that.

In the end it wasn't bad at all. In an hour I counted 136 Med Gulls, 14 Common Scoters, 3 Brents, 2 Balearic Shearwaters, and one each of Kittiwake and Commic Tern, mostly heading east. The latter was easily close enough to ID to species, but I couldn't keep the bird steady in the scope for long enough and failed to clinch it. Annoying. Add in the many Gannets and auks, and it was a nicely bird-filled hour. A great little seawatch in fact.

As the day progressed, the weather upped its game somewhat. A howling gale and tanking rain are easy to stay indoors for, but if the Met Office rain map was correct there was a dry spell due around 3pm. Sure enough...

I thought it would be good to check on the Barred Warbler, and made my way slowly in that direction. The weather had certainly stirred up the birds, and a few bits and bobs were where they wouldn't be normally...

A plug-ugly GBBG on the river in West Bay. One day I hope for a Casp here. I shan't hold my breath.

Of the 34 small gulls here in the dog-walked-to-death field behind Rise restaurant (the first I've ever seen on the deck in this spot) 10 are Meds.

6 Brents heading out to sea after a flight along the promenade.

The sea was spectacular, and a few keenies had come for a look...

The harbour wall. It was possible to get very wet if you fancied it.

A more sensible viewing spot.

Heading up the cliff path was a tiny bit hairy, and approaching the Barred Warbler bushes I could see they were totally blown out. Still, a quick poke around revealed a few birds in residence. I saw three or four birds flit from one bit of deep cover to another. One was probably a Blackbird; the others, all small dark things. Like Robin, or Dunnock, or Radde's Warbler. I didn't see any of them well enough to say for sure...

Then a large, pale warbler flew effortlessly past me and landed in the open, twiggy top of a wind-battered Elder, just a few yards away. Seemingly unfazed by the buffeting hoolie - or my nearness - it paused and peered at me. I had time to get the camera out, fire it up, zoom it, raise it to my eye...

I have come to the conclusion that Barred Warblers are super-hard and super-cool. With what can only be described as nonchalance, it dropped out of view approximately .0001 seconds before I pressed the shutter button.

On my way back down the hill, the heavens opened and emptied. My so-called waterproof is not very. Passing this lot on my way back to the car, I knew exactly how they felt...

Perfect weather for ducks. And Cormorants.