Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud . . .

After a somewhat unproductive trip to Dalbeattie to check up on the arrival or non-arrival of a dining set we took ourselves off to Kippford and checked on the pubs there. The Anchor appeared to be closed, but the Mariner was open. We went in, were hospitably received and examined the “specials” board. He had one portion of haddock left which was bagged by me, and my wife went for the pork and mushrooms which she said was smashing. My haddock wasn’t bad either. We sat opposite a window and looked out at a sea of mud – it being low water.  We lamented not bringing our binoculars (as yet unpacked) and the Landlord appeared as if by magic and lent us a pair. There were flocks of widgeon at the water’s edge, and lapwings flying about – the most we have seen for a long time.  As we watched and ate, the tide began to make and the birds followed it upstream.

The small numbers of lapwings about now is a great contrast to 60 years ago.  At that time the airfield at which I was training was mowed regularly by contractors and great flocks of lapwings shunted themselves about as the mowers went circulated.  In those days I did not take much notice, but in retrospect I suppose they were after earthworms which perhaps came to the surface disturbed by the noise of the mowers and tractors.

(OS Map reproduced without permission !)

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