Today's run went out to the British Gypsum site today, up a distinctly autumnal feeling Sustrans 64 cycle path, berried rather than flowered, the field harvests all in and everything cut to stubble.
No dragonflies by the little fishing pond by the ID whatever it is site. Still WOrthington Simpsons in my brain. IDK is it?
So ran along the rather nothing road back into town, then the long slog into a headwind along Grange Road, having nasty perfume on women wafted up my nose while they were still thirty yards away.
On Sconce Hills park, noticed in the distance that a lot of birds were massing. Thought initially it might be swallows ready to "Fly to EEEEEGGGYYYPT" - how I love that phrase - but as I dragged myself along, I realised that they were little characteristically chubby and stubby House Martins, plumper than swallows but just as capable of carving the air to filament with their wings.
There were two big flocks - one at the Valley Prospect end of the park, and another over the river where they have the picnic tables. Maybe 50 plus birds or more in each flock. Very active, swooping around, sometimes quite close, little white rumps showing against a grey and green backdrop of trees dull sky and a depressed looking fottie pitch.
Don't know whether this was a stuffing themselves exercise, or whether this is them massing prior to heading south, I don't know. But it made the trip for me.
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