August 13, 2004
Garden Warblers don't bake my biscuit
While the rest of the islands belatedly play catch-up this week with Wrynecks and Icterine Wblrs, we're reduced to flocks (well, a few) of Garden Wblrs. Caught one in the dusk in the heligoland last night, and for one glorious moment in the gloom thought it looked big enough to be Barred. But in my heart of hearts I knew it wasn't, and sure enough, sylvia boring was in the trapping box.
B jokes that more Garden Wblrs have been shot in the cause of science (ie, early ornithologists blasting anything they weren't certain of) than any other species. Or maybe they just thought they were so dull they deserved it. Anyway.
The Cuckoo continues to torment us all by roosting near/on top of the heligoland, but never actually in it.
I tried to walk it in two days ago, but the wily sod saw me coming a mile away, and zoomed away to perch nearby and laugh at my pathetic attempts to get near it. I hope a gang of Reed Warblers mug it on the way to Africa. Bastard.
