|Black-Tailed Godwit, winter plumage|
|Lots of Black-Tailed Godwits|
|Keyhaven, Isle of Wight in the distance|
Also feeding out on the mudflats was a curlew, one of my favourite birds. I love everything about them but especially their improbably long, curving beaks and that call. So eerie.
Down by the river that flows beneath the bridge and out into the estuary were my all-time favourite birds of the sea: Turnstones. They merged so well into the pebbles that the camera missed them most of the time and I returned with lots of blurry Turnstones in the foreground and perfectly sharp pebbles behind.
Today, Storm Doris is battering us. The heron knows all about it. He's been standing on the edge of the island since 9am patiently waiting for breakfast to swim by while the surface of the lake is whipped into a frenzy by the wind. Feathers have been going in all directions. It doesn't suit a heron's innate dignity to be so buffeted.
The dogs and I went out for a (still tentative) 3 mile run round the lanes and back across the fields in it first thing. This is the first time I've run since last Saturday and I am starting to feel unfit. M came on his bike, having done a ten mile run on his dodgy knee yesterday (which felt strong, so his half marathon weekend after this one is looking good), and managed to fall off the bike on to the damaged knee while navigating a tight turn with shoes locked into pedals. Oops.
Ted wasn't too chuffed at being out in a storm: his ears kept being swung about his head in a haphazard manner which he didn't enjoy very much. Pop was her usual happy-to-be-out-regardless-of-the-weather self and zoomed off, splashing through puddles, sinking into mud ploughing through sand as per usual. Crows were being chucked about the sky like black hankies, branches were waving hysterically and the pigs were all very pink in a scrubbed-clean-by-the-rain sort of way. Under foot it was squelchy and I came home flecked with mud and spattered by the rain.
The knees held up well all things considered, I could barely feel them which is a big improvement, and I got home in about 27 mins, so a faster time than last Saturday's 5k but still steady enough for recovering muscles (I hope). I'm getting fed up with the general lack of running and the slow pace though so really hope to be back to more-or-less normal training next week. 17 days to go till the Cub.....
I'm off now to make marmalade, which seems safer on the whole than being outdoors at the moment, although we will have to venture out for L's hair cut this afternoon. I feel a parachute strategically placed would get us there quicker than driving.
Hope all are well?