Now that my Owl alarm clock has piped up again - although this time with the setting on Tawny as oppose to Little - I took the opportunity to leap out of my pit early and head down to the Point of Ayr.The mission was to comb the beach in search of some passerine goodies before the great mass of Sunday strolling fully canined-up humanity desended.
Despite doping a loop around the spit and following the strandline all the way up to Gronant, a single Skylark and a handful of Redshanks was all that I could muster.
In terms of return against investment, this particular whizz would have ranked alongside buying a package of Credit Default Swaps and Consolidated Debt Obligations from Lehman Brothers, but fortuntely three foxes scouring the beach behind the lighthouse meant the trip wasn't entirely fruitless.
Until later.
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