Fog, fog, fog, a walk around the visitors centre produced nothing.
Fog, fog, fog, a walk around Lin Dyke to look for the roosting Long-eared Owl produced nothing.
Fog, fog, fog, back to the visitors centre for a coffee when a Kingfisher flew right in front of my very eyes and appeared to go into a hedge! A Kingfisher? In a fucking hedge? Well it wasn't a big, green, sculptured, bushy hedge in someone's garden. More of a straggly little sort of hedge, but it's still a hedge. Strange.
Later on a Green Woodpecker flew across the hide in the fog, fog, fog and old Professor Yaffle returned to his place as an old, wooden bookend, in the shape of a woodpecker..........but Emily loved him.
Ya yha yha ya yah.