There I was sat in the hide at Cley trying to photograph the Wilson’s Phalarope; a rare visitor from the other side of the Atlantic.
When people are describing the location of something that I’m intent on photographing and they begin their sentence “It’s at the back of …” I know I’m in for a tough time. The damn thing was further away than the planet Pluto. I decided to sit it out and wait for it to come nearer.
I must have been in there about an hour when every wader within sight got in the air. I looked around for a raptor. Various shouts were made in the hide “HOBBY” and then “PERIGRINE … perhaps”
I looked around for the perpetrator of the mayhem and saw a small immature falcon. Yes, it was a Hobby. Just a minute … no … it was a Peregrine. It took me a while to decide. It appeared to have a long tail and slim wings … and did it have a touch of paleness at the base of the flight feathers? Oooh er! Thoughts of the Mediterranean came to mind … but a Peregrine it was.
Anyway, by the time the raptor display was over and all the waders had settled the Wilson’s had taken umbrage at being disturbed and was nowhere to be seen. Added to that the call of a cup of coffee back at the reserve centre was strong so I decided to call it a morning.
Maybe I can get some better shots of the Wilson’s Phalarope latter … if it stays … and if the Peregrine spares it!