On a blowy, bright Sunday morning I return to Otmoor. It is only a month since my last visit but, as always, it is different. Now there are large flocks of golden plover in the fields with the lapwings, but they are completely camouflaged when they are on the ground. Unlike the lapwings, which stand out, they are plain brown like the dead grasses.
Suddenly they burst out, their silver underwings glinting in the sun. Now they are entirely visible, but as they land they blend away again.
It is good to see a marsh harrier over the reeds, as well as red kite and buzzard.
The RSPB has put out seeds behind the hide and there are flocks of linnet, reed buntings and chaffinch. I am sorry not to see any bramblings. They were around earlier, I am told. ‘Twas ever thus.