One windy autumn morning I was called to the river by an odd sight. But when I got to the ramp, this magnificent solo Pelican took all my attention.
I love Pelicans and I love reflections and this one was offering both.
We looked at each other for some time, me admiring, him noncommittal, before I realised he wasn’t gong anywhere, just standing in the shallows, rocking slightly in the wind.
I turned to look at the original attraction.
What from a distance had looked like a dragon boat being rowed by a black-clad crew was actually a flock of Cormorants on an oyster rack.
There were about a dozen of them, busily preening, or holding out wings to dry those feathers.
Some looked rather fluffy, as if they were still young, but it was quite a cool wind, so maybe that was simply a warming tactic.
At that distance I couldn’t tell if they were Little Black Cormorants, or the bigger Cormorants.
Perhaps someone can enlighten me.
But why had they chosen such an exposed ‘raft’ in the middle of the river?
Anyway, they had intrigued me enough to bring me (in my slippers) racing down to investigate before they took off.
But, like the Pelican, they clearly had no intention of doing that.