Went running today, and went running into unknown places, trying to record a piece about sport while I did so, hoping that this would give it added authenticity.
It didn't. It was a load of panting crap.
However, before getting lost in a ploughed field that deposited so much mud on my running shoes I weighed twice as much at the end of it as the beginning. This was across the field beyond the nursery in Beacn Hill Park. I went through the funky tunnel I was always curious about...before that!
Before that, I ran past London Road lake to see signs of what I shall gently term "increasing randyness" upon the water. Ducks were flying around, agressive quacking, an anatid saturday night clubbing tussle.
What really caught my eye though was a coot clearly engaging in a display for the benefit of a presumably female specimen - I don't think Coots show any sexual dimorphism - sailing along making that funny little shrill airhorn call, with his wings puffed up and folded over his body, so he looked like a mandarin teal or some sort of gothic avian pagoda.
He was glossy black, a very handsome specimen. I hope he scored.
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