Before being consumed by sleep last night I finally finished reading all six hundred plus pages of 'Invierno en Madrid'. It's been my bedside companion over the past three years, but only taken up and read in fits and starts. The last twenty pages delivered a shocking tragic end, in the best tradition of spy novels and throught it I've learned a bit more about the Spanish Civil War and the early years of the Franco régime. No wonder some of the deep wounds and divisions of that era remain unhealed.
Another good night's sleep for both of us, waking up to a colder but sunny day, more like November fine weather days we hope for but don't always get. After another substantial cooked breakfast, we packed our bags and loaded the car, then handed in our key cards and walked to the lakeside hide, to see what birds we could see.
It was quiet, with just a family of mallards and a couple of single drakes roosting in the reeds, a moorhen, glimpse of a teal, and a pair of buzzards riding the thermals, out hunting. We caught sight of one of them high up in a tree, a quarter of a mile away. A chance long range photo confirmed the sighting, although the image was tiny and not sharp, but satisfying nonetheless.
Then we walked on the coast path track across the nature reserve, through the sand dunes to reach the sea, and walked along the beach to return to the hotel for lunch. As we came out of the dunes a flock of twenty Dunlin descended out of the blue and stopped within a couple of metres of us for just a few seconds before taking to the air again. In the air before they landed they resembled a small round dark cloud, or a swarm of bees as they moved. An astonishing fleeting sight.
A few minutes later we saw them occupying a patch of wet sand from which the tide had just receded. As we moved down the shore the flock followed us, foraging as it went. A couple of the birds flew on ahead to feed like, they were a reconnaissance party, I thought. Why they should separate themselves from the safety of the group is a mystery to me however.
We both ordered three bean chili and rice for lunch and relaxed for a while before leaving. I took a short walk up the St Illtud's church to take some photos, then we left for home a four, calling at the Coop in Bishopston to do some weekend shopping before joining the commuter queue around Swansea Bay and on to the Motorway.
From Oxwich to the east side of Swansea Bay is twenty miles, and with the stop to shop took us an hour, and then another hour to travel the thirty five miles home from there. By the time we left the supermarket the sun had set. I'd forgotten just how early it sets at this time of year. We could have set off earlier and travelled home in daylight, but Oxwich Bay is so lovely it's hard quit when the weather is fine and the light is good. That was our third stay in the Gower this year!
I was delighted and grateful to find a free parking space in the street right outside our house, as nearly all the rest were taken.. We unpacked, Clare made a veggie soup for supper, I uploaded my photos of the day, and then watched another intriguing episode of Walter Presents latest French crimmie Astrid and Rafaelle before turning in for the night.
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