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| Appeared from the fog and disappeared within seconds. We missed snapping a group of 5 which gave a similar low fly-past. But we were ready for these as we heard them whooshing toward us way before their ghostly forms emerged from the fog. |
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| Strange Footprints! |
Birding the backroad would be all or nothing today, as visibility was about 30 yards, but I took Sue for a slow drive as I had a feeling it would be an experience. And that it was. An eerie scene of silence, surrounded by an ominous fog, every twig and stem encrusted with ice crystals, the road like a giant, frozen shard of ice piercing into the unknown.
At the bridge, we found strange footprints, as the hoar frost had grown on an otherwise vanished trail of paw prints.
It was like Sherlock Holmes meets Heston Blumenthal.
(Maybe I've spent too long cooped up inside today.)
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