I was sitting at the screen hide on lapwing lane not so long ago doing a count.There was a Great Crested Grebe on a nest at the tip of the small line of trees in front of the hide, plenty of Gadwall, Mallard, and Tufties about... a late Pochard, a Cormorant, two Little Grebes, a pair of Mute Swans, four Canada Geese, several Coot and a few Moorhen. I heard a voice behind me and turned to see an elderly gentleman in tweeds striding briskly toward me with a rather diminuitive old dear trotting behind. My guess was he was ex-army, as he had that General Melchett air about him and the voice to match. He ignored me completely (of course) and sat down on the bench to my right.
"Here we are!" he announced to his wife loudly. She sat beside him.
"What are we looking at dear?" she asked timidly.
"Ducks!" he barked, authoritatively without so much of a glance at the lake.
"Oh", replied his wife. "Isn't that a Moorhen dear?" she asked, pointing out the Coot in front of the hide as a Little Grebe bobbed up beside it.
"No." he trumpeted confidently "All ducks!"
The little lady smiled politely at me as he marched off with her some way behind.
Where do you start really? BAAAAAAAAAHHH!