The final field of wheat has started to be harvested, this afternoon, finished by mid-day tomorrow, no doubt. If the stubble is allowed to remain, then I hold high hopes for a few decked Skylarks, otherwise it will be a matter of scratching about the field margins for whatever the conditions bestow upon my meagre patch. Still early doors, so I am not too despondent, although a Whinchat would do wonders to lift my spirits to and fro between home and work. Grabbed the opportunity to photograph a juvenile Swallow taking a breather on the wires above Vine Close, this morning - a very brief stay before it was, once again, headed south.
|Still an awful long way to go!|