It was here that a Yellow-Browed Warbler had been sighted. Two of the watchers stood silently next to one another, I didn't recognise either. The third stood a good ten meters to their left, buried in gore tex and so well hidden that I couldn't work out if I knew them or not. I decided to stand next to the two and make my perfunctory greetings, to which one replied with a grunt and the other made some comment about his toes.
We stood in silence for half an hour before another birdwatcher joined us, another one I didn't recognise. He too decided to stand with the three of us and the solitary one remained, un-moving, staring at the bushes. After an hour we were joined by Bob, a face I recognised, and we stared some more, in our little group of five, at the empty willows. Bob and I tried not to talk too much and ruin the atmosphere. The silent figure, possibly a mannequin, gazed on.
After more silence, and more staring, one of the original two, the one who had mentioned his toes when I arrived, spoke again. "Well, I better be getting back to the missus!" With that he turned around and walked a few steps to stand, in silence, next to the solitary character to our left.
Bob and I then went to look at some other birds and eat bacon.
A lovely tale. I've always said birdwatching is best enjoyed as a couple.
ReplyDeleteI'd missed this post, but I remember the circumstances well.
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