Ghosts and tea

It turned out nice again so what better way to celebrate (than with a nice cup of tea)

It wasn't quite that easy. My Stone Curlew of yesterday turned up in mid-eating when I was starving. We both clicked away and took loads of unfocused pics. We didn't notice the arrival of the silent birdwatcher. A man wearing camouflage trousers and carrying binoculars and a camera appeared as if an apparition. We bid him an enthusiastic 'hola' and he 'hola'd' back - and that was it. He stood very close to us (in the middle of nowhere - as per Pete's Dutch family in car park) and either took, or pretended to take pictures of Pratincoles. It is quite likely that we had parked right in the middle of his regular birding spot, but we don't know. The funny thing is that he didn't say another word and we were rendered mute. We didn't speak either AND more importantly, I was desperate for a cup of tea. It was a bit like finding an apparition in your garden and not speaking to it. As birding folk are quite macho (I'm not a real one), it wouldn't have done to have unpacked Phil's festival stove and popped on the whistling kettle - let alone have a cup of tea. 

I slunk in a camping chair on the other side of the super vehicle - yes, a camping chair. Eventually he went, as quietly as he'd arrived - and then... the birder from Northumberland turned up...

bbbbbbbb