Kicking back in the study, working on an article, listening to an excellent adaptation of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance on R4 and avoiding a blustery outdoors littered with multitudes of day-trippers, when a call came through re: a Red Kite heading low towards the seafront from the north cliff (thanks Julie).
With Red Kites being much scarcer up here, and with the seafront being 20 seconds away, a slippertwitch* inevitably beckoned. Grabbing the camera, swerving chip-munching holidaymakers and scanning the bay, I happily got onto the Kite immediately as it approached from the north, predictably harried by gulls and corvids.
Forced out over the bay, the bird lost height and at one stage plummeted unnervingly close to the surface of the water, before battling upwards and eventually making its escape by heading way out to sea.
A treat made all the sweeter by the old gent playing 'Oh I Do Like to be Beside the Seaside' via a crappy casio keyboard (and a deafening P.A) in the bandstand alongside me. Couldn't agree more.
(* = when time spent changing into outdoor footwear is time critically wasted)
