#Mediterranean yellow-legged gull

[art3mus]

The gulls of Trajans Market 2/7/2024

[dansnaturepictures]

Some key birds of my 2023

In the Cairngorms in April it was an honour to encounter charming Crested Tits again, watching a wholesome Snow Bunting briefly at Cairngorm and at Norfolk's Holkham two months earlier was thrilling and on a scorching June day the sight of a Little Ringed Plover dashing through the air at RSPB Conwy was gleeful. On the evenings around Christmas I shall be posting some blogs to reflect on my year, remembering some wonderful experiences watching nature and being outdoors that I've had in England, Scotland and Wales this year across the themes of birds and mammals, butterflies and moths, dragon/damselflies and other wildlife, flowers and fungi and landscapes. I am in the final stages of putting them together and reviewing which birds I've seen should be in the birds and mammals post as I'm aiming to keep them concise, so thought I'd do a bit of an appetizer today featuring some of the species which didn't quite make the post.

Where dashing Fieldfares epitomized winter and autumn, stunning Sedge Warblers embodied spring and summer. Fine Whinchats at Hook-with-Warsash was a tasty bit of summer birding. Nuthatches embraced me on working days seeing my first of the year at Lakeside Country Park on a January working from home lunch break with them heard and seen well on August lunch breaks at Lakeside and also in Winchester on an office day. I saw Ring-necked Parakeets at my patch Lakeside more than ever this year and these screeching emerald birds were a star on our annual September royal parks trip to Bushy Park as I was immersed in watching them. I enjoyed many intimate and connected moments with Kestrels locally and further afield this year and gigantic Red Kites seen many times were another key part of a sensational year I've had for birds of prey.

Ring-necked Parakeet at Bushy Park

Kestrel with prey at Farlington Marshes in September

There were exceptional times I had this year spellbound by watching arresting Kingfishers, from a January spectacle with two at Winnall Moors to Titchfield Haven and more. Mediterranean Gulls with their exotic feel from Radipole Lake to Lakeside and others, Iceland Gull an early gem of my year and once again exciting Yellow-legged Gulls at Rutland Water in July were three of my favourite birds to see this year. Another winter experience consuming to the senses was watching bewitching Bewick's Swans early in the year at WWT Slimbridge, Goldeneye in England and Scotland is a species that kept on giving for me and Black-necked Grebe was another precious species seen early on. Two breathtaking birds I was honoured to see a few times throughout the year where I saw so many amazing places were Great White Egret and Spoonbill. Seeing three exquisite and exuberant waders across England and Scotland throughout the year brought me immense joy; Golden Plover, Greenshank and Bar-tailed Godwit.

A Kingfisher at Winnall Moors in January

Mediterranean Gull at Lakeside Country Park in July

A beautiful Bewick's Swan at Slimbridge

Record shot of a fine looking shiny Golden Plover at Loch Eil in April

[pleistocene-pride]

Phoenicopterus roseus better known as the greater flamingo, is a flamingo species native throughout much of Africa, Southern Europe, the middle east, the Indian Subcontinent, and various Mediterranean islands. Here they inhabit mudflats, rivers, deltas, lakes, and shallow coastal lagoons. Using its feet, the bird stirs up the mud, then sucks water through its bill and filters out various invertebrates, plankton, seeds, and algae on which it feeds. Aside from the occasional human, crocodile, big cat, baboon, or hyena, adult greater flamingos have few natural predators, however eggs and chicks are frequently taken by raptors, crows, marabou storks, and in particular yellow-legged gulls. Reaching some 3.6 to 6.2ft (110 to 187cms) in height and 4.4 to 9.9lbs (2 to 4.5kgs) the greater flamingo is the largest living species of flamingo. Most of the plumage is pinkish-white, but the wing coverts are red and the primary and secondary flight feathers are black. The bill is pink with a restricted black tip, and the legs are entirely pink. The chicks are covered in gray fluffy down, whilst subadults are lighter in coloration with dark legs. This is because the flamingos coloration comes from the carotenoid pigments in the organisms they eat. A social species the greater flamingo lives in large flocks, and breeding in large colonies. They are a monogamous species which perform synchronized 'dances' which involve neck stretching, preening and wing movements. Together, the two partners will build a mound of mud with a single egg. It's incubated there for 27 to 31 days by both the mother and father, and is fed by regurgitated 'crop milk' for the first 3 to 4 weeks of its life. After this, it will begin filter feeding and, at 10 weeks old, the chicks fledge, but they will live in a creche that's looked over by a non-breeding adult for another month thereafter. Under ideal conditions a greater flamingo will reach sexual maturity at around 2 years old and may live upwards of 80.

[bestgullpoll]

Best Gull Poll: Round 1, Side A

The gull games have begun! Find the individual poll posts for this batch of matchups linked below. They will run for 24 hours, until May 5, 2023 at 00:00 UTC.

Match 1: kelp gull vs Andean gull

Match 2: lava gull vs black-tailed gull

Match 3: Pacific gull vs Franklin's gull

Match 4: Belcher's gull vs Saunders's gull

Match 5: western gull vs great black-backed gull

Match 6: Armenian gull vs black-headed gull

Match 7: glaucous gull vs yellow-legged gull

Match 8: Audouin's gull vs Sabine's gull

Match 9: Olrog's gull vs slender-billed gull

Match 10: Mediterranean gull vs lesser black-backed gull

Match 11: Iceland gull vs brown-headed gull

[oneanimalpictureaday]

Seagull, maybe a yellow legged gull or a European herring gull? In Monaco. Tbh those two are similar enough that the first were considered sub-species to the second til 2007 so... I’m not the only one having trouble. This one is young enough to have traces of the juvenile coat in its wings.

Fact from Bird Fact: Yellow-legged gulls are colonial nesters, with pairs raising young only a few metres apart. However, they are highly defensive of their nest site, young, and mate, and will noisily attempt to see off any threats, including aggressively flying at much larger birds that encroach on their patch. While yellow-legged gulls are largely sedentary birds, with most birds in western Mediterranean regions and along the Atlantic coast rarely moving more than 100 km from their nesting grounds. However, some movement does occur at the end of the breeding season, with northward dispersal common in late summer, and a return to southern regions by mid-winter.

[bpod-bpod]

Seagull Sentinels

Antibiotic resistance in bacteria is one of the key medical challenges of this century, and monitoring bacterial populations in the wild demonstrates the scope of the problem. Species in close contact with humans, like gulls, known for scavenging our leftovers at the seaside, are likely to share our bacteria, including antibiotic-resistant strains. Following evidence of antibiotic-resistant Escherichia coli in Australian silver gulls, a recent study on yellow-legged and Audouin’s gulls in the Mediterranean also found resistant strains of Campylobacter jejuni and Salmonella Typhimurium (pictured, in red, invading a human cell). Common causes of diarrhoea, these latter bacteria are transmitted mainly through contaminated food and domestic animals. Finding them in multiple gull species highlights both the potential risk for transmission and the extent of contamination from human and agricultural waste, so gulls could serve as useful sentinel species, providing an indicator of the prevalence of antibiotic resistance in the environment.

Written by Emmanuelle Briolat

Image by David Goulding, Wellcome Trust Sanger Institute, in the Wellcome Collection

Research by Noelia Antilles and colleagues, IRTA, Centre de Recerca en Sanitat Animal (CReSA, IRTA-UAB), Campus de la Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, Bellaterra, Spain

Image originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

Research published in Science of The Total Environment, April 2021

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

[mastrmiscellaneous]

HPHM and His Dark Materials

I was watching the new HDM BBC show, and I got in my head the characters of Hogwarts Mystery with Daemons, so here’s my thoughts:

Thomas: Blue Jay

You are a passionate and talkative individual who is fiercely determined. More so than others with perching bird daemons, those with blue jays have a bold fearlessness and assertiveness. They are communicative and form tight, loyal relationships with others.

Charli: Cougar

You are a decisive and impact individual who looks after your own. More so than others with wild cat daemons, those with cougars are protective and communicative, clearly stating their own needs and watching out for those weaker than themselves. They are patient and aware, and get their best work done in solitude.

Rowan: Abyssinian

You are a bold and curious individual who loves to stay busy. More so than others with domestic cat daemons, those with Abyssinians adore spontaneity and a life full of variety; they have quick minds and always need to something to focus on. They bond very closely with their loved ones — endearing friends, though tend to be flaky and distractible.

Penny: Poison Dart Frog

You are a unique and self-assured individual who is ruled by inquisition. more so than others with amphibian daemons, those with poison dart frogs are more cautious and aren’t afraid to assert themselves. they have high standards for themselves and others. 

Blue body with yellow back, and black spots.

Ben: Pudu

You are a nervous and solitary individual with a sensitive disposition. More so than others with deer daemons, those with pudus are insecure, but have busy minds and love to dream and stay busy. They are anxious people who don't do well in crowds, and rarely — if ever — open up to others about their passions.

smaller antlers (around 9 inches)

Bill: Binturong (bearcat)

You are an introverted and even-tempered individual who has a hardy nature. More so than others with viverroid daemons, those with binturongs self-assured and relaxed, often procrastinators who tend to go with the flow and not plan ahead. They are stubborn when others try to force them into things, but overall are warm and accepting people.

Charlie: Ostrich

You are a powerful and regal individual who sees what they want to see. More so than others with flightless bird daemons, those with ostriches are stubborn and bold leaders who push to get their way. If they're wrong or things aren't going according to plan, they then become experts at denial.

Tulip: Mediterranean Gull

Your daemon would take the form of a gull! You are a bold and adventurous individual who isn't afraid of the spotlight. More so than others with waterfowl daemons, those with gulls are vocal and confident, cunning in both their work and social interactions. They are resourceful people who aren't above a little manipulation, and enjoy discovering new horizons full of new opportunities.

light grey and white:  individual who is more bold and relishes attention.

Tonks: Pine Marten

You’re shy and curious, although it sometimes gets you in trouble. It doesn’t take you much time to get ready in the morning as you prioritise sleep over personal appearance. You have an uncanny ability to get yourself out of most situations, whether it’s with your clever wits or a little white lie. when a friend is in trouble, you’re often to first to come to their rescue. 

Andre: Fire-Bellied Toad

You are a lax and hardy individual who has a cocky streak. More so than others with amphibian daemons, those with fire-bellied toads are very consumed with their own ideas and are affronted when challenged. They have a bold presence and command attention when they want it.

Talbott: Osprey

you are precise and observant, individual who seeks to master challenges. More so than others with raptor daemons, those with ospreys are more emotionally in-tune with themselves. They are moved to act, and are unafraid of authority who go against their moral compass.

Chiara: Husky

You believe that all people are good, until they prove otherwise – and then you avoid them forever. You will remain loyal to your friends forever and only ask the same in return. You're non-judgemental of others and see people simply as people – you treat everyone with the same amount of respect and politeness regardless of their social status or lack thereof.

Badeea: Harvestman Spider (Daddy-long-legs)

You are a quiet and sensitive individual full of determination. More so than others with arachnid daemons, those with harvestmen are shy and peaceable people who avoid socializing and confrontations at all cost. They are diligent but adaptable, preferring to move on to something else if things are looking rough.

Barnaby: St. Bernard

You are a tireless and devoted individual who is deeply committed to helping others. More so than others with dog daemons, those with St. Bernards tend to neglect themselves to put others first. They have a strong spirit and big heart for friends and strangers alike.

light brown back and white stomach.

Merula: Amur Tiger

You are a courageous and confident individual who emphasizes balance in your life. More so than others with wild cat daemons, those with tigers are deeply introspective and see their raw emotions as power. They are patient and practical people who have learned just how much they can bite off before they can't chew

Ismelda: Smooth Greensnake

I mean, the name says it all. You're ambitious, charming, but have a streak of pettiness and, despite yourself, you absolutely cannot resist mean jokes. You were the first of your friends to get a fake ID, and as an adult, you lied on a form to get a student card. You are very clever, an excellent networker and negotiator, and sometimes feel like your personality changes depending on who you're with. You like going to new places and making new friends, and always stay smooth.

feel free to add for th rest of the characters!

[petsultan]

Seagull

Seagull is known as sea birds that everyone knows. It is a member of the Seagull family and has a sea that can live in all the lands of the world. They are not found in deserts and poles. It is about 35 cm tall, with pointed and long wings, with the ability to swim and fly, and a curtain-legged bird. There are quite a few types. Gümüşsel gull, dwarf gull, smiling gull, and black gull are the most common species. They usually live in places where there is a seashore collectively. While the hair in the head area becomes white in winter, it gets darker in summer. The color of its feathers is white, black, or ash. The size of its wings helps it fly well. Since they do not have the features to dive into the water, they swim and rest on the sea in the worst conditions. While the beak structures go straight down to the middle, it takes the form of a hook towards the tip. The tails are usually forked, the front toes of the feet are webbed, and the back of the feet are webbed. They feed on the surface and shores of the sea. They are quite an appetite. The insects they eat are carcasses, mollusks, and leftover food in the dump. If they eat plastic between their meals, they experience a process that goes from death to feeling constant satiety. Plenty of these birds are found in coastal areas where there is garbage. Birds with an ugly sound attract attention to their structures that do not compromise elegance. Birds, which have a very social structure, love to live with people. They cannot live far from the sea. The average lifespan is up to 25 years. mollusks and residual food in the dump. If they eat plastic between their meals, they experience a process that goes from death to feeling constant satiety. Plenty of these birds are found in coastal areas where there is garbage. Birds with an ugly sound attract attention to their structures that do not compromise elegance. Birds, which have a very social structure, love to live with people. They cannot live far from the sea. The average lifespan is up to 25 years. mollusks and residual food in the dump. If they eat plastic between their meals, they experience a process that goes from death to feeling constant satiety. Plenty of these birds are found in coastal areas where there is garbage. Birds with an ugly sound attract attention to their structures that do not compromise elegance. Birds, which have a very social structure, love to live with people. They cannot live far from the sea. The average lifespan is up to 25 years. They cannot live far from the sea. The average lifespan is up to 25 years. They cannot live far from the sea. The average lifespan is up to 25 years. What is the reproduction of seagulls?

Collective birds prefer marshy shores, roofs of houses, lakes, and seaside to make nests. Their mating takes place by mouth. Their nests, which have not been made neatly, are covered with moss. Females lay in eggs for 2-3 weeks by making 2-3 eggs. It incubates male and female seizures. Eggs have brown or black spots. When the babies first appear, they are born as brunettes. Male and female act together to protect the offspring and the nest. The puppies, which tell their hunger by hitting their mother and father's beak, fly out of the nest when they are 4-6 weeks old.

What are the gull species found in Turkey?

Island gull: They live in colonies on islands and off the coast. They live at altitudes of up to 1000 meters above the sea surface. They choose medium-height vegetation for breeding. It is the period of mating and spawning from mid-April to early May. The offspring, beginning in July, mingle with the colonies when they fly out of the nest. Hunting of these species is prohibited. They are located on the Mediterranean coast, especially in the Mersin Silifke region.

Common gull: They are the most common species. Other areas of the birds with yellow beaks, gray wings, and back are white. Some have pink legs and some are yellow. They have a height of around 56 cm. They live in the lakes and coasts of our country in Central and Eastern Anatolia. The prey of these breeds is limited.

Karabaş gull: These are the species that we always come across on the seashores and the lakeside. In these, their prey is limited.

Little gull: The heads of the gulls, which are 28 cm in length, are black during the summer. They reproduce in the summer period.

Black-backed ravioli: The species that look like seagulls are separated from them by the black color on their backs and wings.

Silver gull: They are rare species in our country. They are known for their grayish color.

Seagull

Seagull

Seagull

Seagull

https://petsultan.com/seagull?feed_id=973&_unique_id=5f1b8a3784231 #bird #breeds #seagull

[thepoemeater-blog]

By accident my heart lifted with a rush. Gone for weeks, finally home on a darkish day of blustery wind, napped, waking in a few minutes and the sun had come clean and crept around the house, this light from one of trillions of stars falling through the window skeined by the willow’s greenish bright yellow leaves so that my half-asleep head opened wide for the first time in many months, a cold sunstroke, so yellow-gold, so gold-yellow, yellow-gold, this eye beyond age bathed in yellow light.

* * *

Seventy days on the river with a confusion between river turbulence and human tribulation. We are here to be curious not consoled. The gift of the gods is consciousness not my forlorn bleating prayers for equilibrium, the self dog-paddling in circles on its own alga-lidded pond. Emily Walter wrote: “We are given rivers so we know our hearts can break, but still keep us breathing.”

* * *

When you run through the woods blindfolded you’re liable to collide with trees, I thought one hot afternoon on the river. You can’t drown yourself if you swim well. We saw some plovers and then a few yellow legs with their peculiar cries, and I remembered a very cold, windy September day with Matthiessen and Danny when the birds lifted me far out of myself. It was so cold and blustery the avian world descended into the river valley and while fishing we saw a golden eagle, two immature and two adult bald eagles, two prairie falcons, two peregrines, Cooper’s hawks, two Swainson’s, a sharp-shinned, a rough-legged, a harrier, five turkey vultures, three ospreys, and also saw buffleheads, widgeon, teal, mallards, morning doves, kingfishers, ring-billed gulls, killdeer, spotted plovers, sandpipers and sandhill cranes. They also saw us. If a peregrine sees fifty times better than we, what do we look like to them? Unanswerable.

* * *

Nearing seventy there is a tinge of the usually unseen miraculous when you wake up alive from a night’s sleep or a nap. We always rise in the terrifying posture of the living. Some days the river is incomprehensible. No, not the posture, but that a terrifying beauty is born within us. I think of the 20-acre thicket my mother planted after the deaths 40 years ago, the thicket now nearly impenetrable as its own beauty. Across the small pond the green heron looked at me quizzically— who is this? I said I wasn’t sure at that moment wondering if the green heron could be Mother.

* * *

Now back in the Absarokas I’m awake to these diffuse corridors of light. The grizzlies have buried themselves below that light cast down across the mountain meadow, following a canyon to the valley floor where the rattlesnakes will also sleep until mid-April. Meanwhile we’ll travel toward the border with the birds. The moon is swollen tonight and the mountain this summer I saw bathed in a thunderstorm now bathes itself in a mist of snow.

* * *

Rushing, turbulent water and light, convinced by animals and rivers that nature only leads us to herself, so openly female through the window of my single eye. For half a year my alphabet blinded me to beauty, forgetting my nature which came from the boy lost comfortably in the woods, how and why he suspected home, this overmade world where old paths are submerged in metal and cement.

* * *

This morning in the first clear sunlight making its way over the mountains, the earth covered with crunchy frost, I walked the dogs past Weber’s sheep pasture where a ram was covering a ewe who continued eating, a wise and experienced woman. I headed due west up the slope toward Antelope Butte in the delicious cold still air, turning at the irrigation ditch hearing the staccato howl of sandhill cranes behind me, a couple of hundred rising a mile away from Cargill’s alfalfa, floating up into the white mist rising from the frost, and moving north in what I judge is the wrong direction for this weather. Birds make mistakes, so many dying against windows and phone wires. I continued west toward the snake den to try to catch the spirit of the place when it’s asleep, the sheer otherness of hundreds of rattlesnakes sleeping in a big ball deep in the rocky earth beneath my feet. The dogs, having been snake trained, are frightened of this place. So am I. So much protective malevolence. I fled. Back home in the studio, a man-made wonder. We planted a chokecherry tree near the window and now through cream- colored blinds the precise silhouette of the bare branches, gently but firmly lifting my head, a Chinese screen that no one made which I accept from the nature of light.

* * *

I think of Mother’s thicket as her bird garden. How obsessed she was with these creatures. When I told her a schizophrenic in Kentucky wrote, “Birds are holes in heaven through which a man must pass,” her eyes teared. She lost husband and daughter to the violence of the road and I see their spirits in the bird garden. On our last night a few years ago she asked me, “Are we the same species as God?” At eighty-five she was angry that the New Testament wasn’t fair to women and then she said, “During the Great Depression we had plenty to eat,” meaning at the farmhouse, barn and chicken coop a hundred yards to the north that are no longer there, disappeared with the inhabitants. The child is also the mother of the man.

* * *

In the U.P. in the vast place southeast of the river I found my way home by following the path where my shadow was the tallest which led to the trail which led to another trail which led to the road home to the cabin where I wrote to her: “Found two dead redtail hawks, missing their breasts, doubtless a goshawk took them as one nests just north of here a half mile in a tall hemlock on the bend of the river.”

* * *

With only one eye I’ve learned to celebrate vision, the eye a painter, the eye a monstrous fleshy camera which can’t stop itself in the dark where it sees its private imagination. The tiny eye that sees the cosmos overhead.

* * *

Last winter I lost heart between each of seven cities. Planes never land with the same people who boarded.

* * *

Walking Mary and Zilpha every morning I wonder how many dogs are bound by regret because they are captured by our imaginations and affixed there by our need to have them do as we wish when their hearts are quite otherwise.

* * *

I hope to define my life, whatever is left, by migrations, south and north with the birds and far from the metallic fever of clocks, the self staring at the clock saying, “I must do this.” I can’t tell the time on the tongue of the river in the cool morning air, the smell of the ferment of greenery, the dust off the canyon’s rock walls, the swallows swooping above the scent of raw water.

* * *

Maybe we’re not meant to wake up completely. I’m trying to think of what I can’t remember. Last week in France I read that the Ainu in Japan receive messages from the gods through willow trees so I’m not the only one. I looked down into the garden of Matignon and wondered at the car trip the week before where at twilight in Narbonne 27,000 blackbirds swirled and that night from the window it was eerie with a slip of the waning moon off the right shoulder of the Romanesque cathedral with Venus sparkling shamelessly above the moon, Venus over whom the church never had any power. Who sees? Whose eye is this? A day later in Collioure from the Hermitage among vineyards in the mountains I could look down steep canyons still slightly green from the oaks in November to the startling blue of the Mediterranean, storm-wracked from the mistral’s seventy knot winds, huge lumpy white caps, their crests looking toward Africa.

* * *

I always feared losing my remaining eye, my singular window to the world. When closed it sees the thousands of conscious photos I’ve taken with it, impressionist rather than crystalline, from a lion’s mouth in the Serengeti in 1972 to a whale’s eye in the Humboldt current, the mountain sun gorged with the color of forest fires followed by a moon orange as a simple orange, a thousand girls and women I’ve seen but never met, the countless birds I adopted since losing the eye in 1945 including an albino grouse creamy as that goshawk’s breast that came within feet of Mother in our back pasture, the female trogon that appeared when Dalva decided to die, and the thousands of books out of whose print vision is created in the mind’s eye, as real as any garden at dawn.

* * *

No rhapsodies today. Home from France and the cold wind and a foot of snow have destroyed my golden window, but then the memory has always been more vivid than the life. The memory is the not-quite-living museum of our lives. Sometimes its doors are insufferably wide open with black stars in a grey sky, and horses clattering in and out, our dead animals resting here and there but often willing to come to life again to greet us, parents and brothers and sisters sit at the August table laughing while they eat twelve fresh vegetables from the garden. Rivers, creeks, lakes over which birds funnel like massive schools of minnows. In memory the clocks have drowned themselves, leaving time to the life spans of trees. The world of our lives comes unbidden as night.

- Jim Harrison, The Golden Window

[marcalanpen-blog]

Travels in Birdland (France) 6 From Pont du Gard to the coast

June 2017

After Pont du Gard we headed off southwards to the Mediterranean coast at Hyeres, and the Presqu’ile de Giens, where we were to be for the beach part of our trip to Provence.

On our first stop at Baux de Provence I spotted this Black Redstart at the top of the castle, high up above the vineyards in the valleys below. 

The castle also had a busy army of lime green butterflies gambling about its gardens and especially around the lavender plants.

The castle at Baux.

The motorhome parked near the vineyards around Baux.

At Avignon we shared our plot with this Blackbird.

The famous Avignon bridge was just opposite our campsite, on the other side of the River Rhone. (below)

The Luberon Valley. Made famous by Marcel Pagnol and Jean de Florette.

Butterfly in amongst the flora in the Luberon (below)

More wild flowers in amongst the Luberon hills.

The Luberon valley.

I’d never had a successful photo of a Jay before. Whenever we’ve been to Holland we’ve seen lots in just about any woodland we’d been through, but hadn’t ever been able to actually take a decent photo of one. This one was very obliging, it came to me as I was looking out of the door of the motorhome in a campsite we stayed in on our way south, after the Luberon. 

Our next stop saw us by the sea. The motorhome was a matter of 15 metres from the sunny warm Mediterranean near Bormes les Mimosas.

Mediterranean sunrise (below)

The Presqu’ile de Gens. The beach five minutes walk from our campsite (below) with its warm, clear seas.

Giens has a wide expanse of salt flats which at one time provided its industry and wealth, but which nowadays is home to many sorts of waders and chief among them the Flamingoes.

Although there were a lot of other birds there too. 

Our campsite had regular visits from Collared Doves.

Yellow Legged Gulls were common enough around the coasts.

Cicadas along the coast camouflaged amongst the sand.....

.... and Cormorants in the sea.

The Hyeres Nature Reserve where we’d hoped to see a lot of waders, and wildlife in general, was closed the day we got there.

The Black Winged Stilt. 

As we were cycling on our way back from our attempt to visit the nature reserve this happened. At around noon beside a big traffic roundabout we came across a family of Black Winged Stilts. We first saw one adult very close to the road, and as we watched, eventually we noticed the young bird (well camouflaged), and a little later the other parent bird. A little band of other cycling tourists soon accumulated watching the birds peck and stroll around seemingly unconcerned by either the noise of the lumbering traffic or the peering people who’d dismounted from their bikes for a closer view., 

A Black-headed Gull.

Sunset on the Presqu’ile de Giens.

[readingactually]

Book Spotlight: Best Beach Ever by Wendy Wax

Release Day

May 22,2018

Read an excerpt: ONE Nicole Grant Giraldi stood in front of a far-too-full-length mirror that hung on a wall of the too-small cottage where she, her husband special agent Joe Giraldi, and their twin daughters currently lived. It exposed two primary reasons women were not designed to give birth at forty-seven; lack of elasticity and surplus gravity. She closed one eye and shifted slightly, but the expanse of flesh did not become easier to contemplate. Despite all of her fears and doubts, the body she was staring at had performed admirably. It had adapted and stretched to accommodate Sofia and Gemma. Against great odds, it had carried them full term, propelled them into the world nine months ago, and then provided sustenance. What it had not done was snap back into anything that resembled its previous shape. Her eyes slid away. She forced them back. It was time to accept reality. Her breasts hung lower than seemed anatomically possible. Blue veins streaked across them no doubt to match the ones that now crisscrossed the legs she’d once been proud of. Stretch marks cut across the stomach that jiggled as she turned. Although she knew it was a mistake, she looked at her rear end, which had grown wider and had somehow been injected with cottage cheese. Most likely while she’d been sleeping. Or confined to bed-rest. “Are you ready?” Joe called. She sighed and turned her back on the mirror as she wriggled into a jogging bra, slipped her arms into a T-shirt, then began to pull the too-tight lycra up over her thighs. “Almost!” “I’m going to put the girls in the stroller. We’ll be outside.” Nikki tied her hair back into a low ponytail, donned a lightweight running jacket and laced up her shoes. Careful not to look at herself again, she left the bedroom and made it through the tiny cottage in a matter of seconds. It was the second day of January. On the west coast of central Florida, that meant a vivid  blue sky, butter yellow sun, and a cool salt breeze. She breathed in the crisp air as she stepped onto the concrete path that bisected the Sunshine Hotel property and nearly stumbled at the sight of Joe and the girls waiting for her. Were they really all hers? Tamping down a swell of emotion, she moved toward the stroller taking in the pink and white knit hats neatly tied beneath their chins and the streaks of sunscreen slathered over their cheeks. Sofia had her father’s dark hair, sparkling brown-black eyes, and sunny temperament while Gemma was auburn haired and green eyed like Nikki. Where Gemma’s oversized lungs and the will to use them had come from, was still under debate. “All present, recently diapered, and accounted for. Requesting permission to move out.” Joe shot her a wink and saluted smartly. Though he was closing in on fifty, Joe remained broad shouldered and hard bodied with a chiseled face and piercing dark eyes that too often saw right through her; a skill she blamed on his FBI training. They’d met when he’d used her to help him catch her younger brother Malcolm Dyer, whose three hundred million dollar Ponzi scheme had left Nikki and then-strangers Madeline Singer and Avery Lawford with nothing but shared ownership of Bella Flora, a 1920s Mediterranean revival mansion at the south end of the beach.    She saluted back and fell into step beside him. A few doors down they passed the two- bedroom cottage that Madeline Singer, her daughter Kyra and grandson Dustin had just moved into. “It’ll be great having Maddie here, but it’s so strange to think of someone else living in Bella Flora,” Nikki said thinking of the house they’d brought back from the brink of ruin and that had done the same for them. After they’d first renovated Bella Flora Dustin’s famous father, mega-movie star Daniel Deranian, had bought it for Dustin and Kyra. It had become home to all of them when they’d needed one most, but Kyra had been forced to rent it out. “Yeah,” Joe agreed as they wheeled passed Bitsy Baynard’s one bedroom, which the former heiress had taken in lieu of repayment for the money she’d put into their now defunct TV show. “When is Bitsy coming back?” “I don’t know. She said she was going to stay in Palm Beach until she found someone who knew something about where Bertie is hiding.” Nikki grimaced. In her former life as an A-list matchmaker, Nikki had brought Bitsy, heiress to a timber fortune, and her husband together and had counted them as one of her biggest successes. Right up until last January when Bertie disappeared with Bitsy’s fortune and an exotic dancer who was pregnant with his child. When the walkway split they wheeled the stroller toward the low slung main building, a mid-century gem that they’d renovated for what they’d hoped would be a new season of their TV show, Do Over. The sound of voices and the scrape of furniture reached them from the new rooftop deck, where tables and chairs were being set up. The pool area was quiet. The lifeguard would take his place on the retro lifeguard stand at noon when temperatures had risen and the rooftop grille started cranking out hot dogs and hamburgers. By the time they wheeled through the opening in the low pink wall and onto the beach, Nikki was feeling slightly winded. Joe was not. Despite the weak morning sun and the breeze off the gulf, he pulled off his T-shirt and tucked one end into the waistband of his running shorts. His chest and abs were hard, his arms and legs muscled. Dark hair smattered with gray dusted his chest and arrowed downward. She considered his body with an unhealthy mixture of admiration and jealousy. And a devout wish that men carried the babies in our species. “You know we don’t have to run,” he said when they reached the hard packed sand near the water’s edge. “It’s a gorgeous day just to be outside.” “Definitely gorgeous,” she agreed admiring the dip and dance of sunlight on the slightly choppy water’s surface. A windsurfer skimmed by as she began to stretch, his brightly colored sail bulging with wind.  “But I know you’re ready for a run.” She had to hold onto his shoulder as she reached back to grab her foot and stretch her quads. “And so am I.” “All right.” When she’d finished stretching, he flashed her a smile and opened his arms wide, leaving their direction up to her. “Lead the way.” To their right lay the historic Don CeSar Hotel and the northern half of St. Petersburg Beach. In the other direction… she shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but she could not deny the tug she felt. Without a word she pivoted left and broke into a slow jog, heading toward the southern tip of Pass-a-Grille. And Bella Flora. Joe turned the stroller and fell in beside her. For a few heady minutes she simply gave herself up to the fresh air, the wash of water on and off the sand, and the caw of gulls wheeling through the sky. But it wasn’t long before her breathing grew uneven and her strides became shorter. She flushed with embarrassment when she realized that he had checked his stride to match hers. Her chin went up and she picked up her pace. She’d recently weaned the girls to formula and while nursing had helped her drop weight, she was going to have to do more than a crawl if she ever hoped to get her body back. “You worry about yourself and the girls,” she snapped careful not to huff or puff. “I’ll be fine.” “Okay,” he said easily. “You’re the boss.” His movements remained fluid, but she could still feel him holding back. “There’s no shame in taking it easy, Nik. And walking is exercise too. A walk could be nice.” “Right.”  Surely that wasn’t her breathing that sounded so…labored. Or her legs that had turned into lead weights. She pinned a smile on her lips and focused her eyes down the beach.  She’d run this distance a thousand times. There was no reason she couldn’t do it now. She woulddo it now. And if she felt a little uncomfortable, well no one had ever died from discomfort. Otherwise she would have expired early in her pregnancy. She picked up her pace another notch and ignored Joe’s look of concern. She was not going to whine or complain and she most definitely wasn’t going to walk. Breathing was overrated. And it was nothing compared to pride. # Shortly before her life imploded, Madeline Singer had decided to refurbish it slightly.  Her nest had emptied and she’d hit the big five-oh. The time seemed right to take down a few metaphorical walls. Raise a few ceilings. Open things up. What she’d envisioned as a minor renovation turned into a total gut job when her husband lost everything in Malcolm Dyer’s Ponzi scheme. The life she’d only planned to tweak got demo’d; blown to bits before her eyes.     There were casualties. Somehow she managed to drag her family clear of the rubble. Ultimately, those who were still standing constructed a new life; one that bore almost no resemblance to the original. Not exactly a ‘do over,’ but a chance to do and be more. Today was January second. The first useable day of a brand new year and once again her life was under construction.  Yesterday she, her daughter Kyra and her four-year-old grandson Dustin and Dustin’s new puppy Max, had moved out of Bella Flora into the newly renovated two bedroom cottage she stood in now. Soon Kyra and Dustin would go to Orlando so that Dustin could play his father’s son in Daniel Deranian’s directorial debut. At which point Maddie would be completely on her own. A fact that both excited and terrified her. In the kitchen, the lack of counter space forced her to work more efficiently and in less than fifteen minutes she’d assembled an egg souffle, slid it into the oven, and set the timer. The souffle was of the never fail variety, guaranteed to pouf in exactly sixty minutes. Unlike life, which came with no guarantees and often ‘poufed’ when you least expected it. Soon the scent of melting cheese teased her nostrils and began to fill the air. She pictured it wafting down the short hallway to the second bedroom, slipping under the closed door, and crooking its finger. While she waited she put on a pot of coffee and puttered, unpacking and organizing the exceedingly compact kitchen. The cottage felt like a dollhouse after the castle-like Bella Flora, but Maddie felt oddly content. She lacked space and income and her resume consisted only of a brief and excruciatingly public stint on their renovation-turned-reality TV show. But the cottage belonged to her. And so did the new life that lay ahead. A text dinged in and the face of William Hightower, the rock icon formerly known as William the Wild, appeared on the screen. A reminder that the life that lay ahead included a relationship with a man whose poster had once hung on her teenaged bedroom wall. Mornin’ Maddie-fan. Hud and the fish send their regards. Ha. She had discovered early on that the fish that lived in the Florida Keys had a nasty sense of humor. Despite Will’s efforts to teach her how to fly cast, she was no threat to the fish population and they knew it. Catch anything yet? Nope. But the sun’s on the rise and it’s so beautiful down here this morning I’m not sure I care. Liar. Will loved to be out on the flats around Islamorada above all things, but he did not like to be bested by anything covered with scales. True. And Hud’s making me look bad. He and the fish want to know when you’re coming to visit. They’re just looking for entertainment. Hudson Power, Will’s longtime friend and fishing guide, had taught her to drive a boat and been very patient with her ineptness at fly casting. But she was fairly certain she’d heard the fish laughing at her on more than one occasion. True. He texted again. But I miss you madly, Maddie fan. A warm glow formed in her chest and radiated outward. She did not understand why Will, who had finally won his own personal war on drugs and was once again topping the charts, had chosen her when he could have his pick of younger, prettier, and undoubtedly firmer women, but  she’d finally stopped asking. Plus it was hard to argue with his physical reaction to her. Her cheeks flamed at the thought and despite her two left thumbs, she was very glad they were texting and not face-timing. When are you coming down to Mermaid Point? They had met when their former network sent Madeline, Kyra, Avery Lawford, and Nicole Grant down to the Keys with instructions to turn Will’s private island into a Bed and Breakfast; an idea he did not appreciate in the least. As soon as Kyra and Dustin leave for Orlando. Kyra, who’d met and fallen for the megastar on her very first film set, was not at all happy about the upcoming film. Or having to spend six weeks on set with Daniel and his equally famous movie star wife, Tonja Kay. Can u tell me when? In 2 weeks. That’s 2 weeks 2 long. She was still smiling when she heard the first sounds of movement from the second bedroom. By the time she’d finished setting the dinette table, pulled the orange juice out of the refrigerator, and cut up a bowl of fruit, there were only a few minutes left on the timer. A woof and the shake of a dog’s collar were followed by the creak of a bedframe. Despite the early hour, the souffle had worked its magic. She poured herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with it. In the small second bedroom of her mother’s cottage, Kyra woke to the scents of coffee and egg soufflé. Dustin slept on the railed bunk bed above her. Max, the Great Dane puppy his father had unexpectedly and unaccountably given him for Christmas, stood next to her whimpering. She did not want to get up, but she definitely didn’t want to clean up another accident. Max nudged her with his wet, cold nose and she threw off her sheets. Today was not a good day. Today was the day a stranger would move into Bella Flora. Max began to circle and sniff the floor. Kyra sat up, careful not to hit her head on the upper bunk. She was debating whether she could make a run to the bathroom when Max’s whimper turned more urgent. “Got it. Hold on!” She grabbed him and raced for the door, holding him out in front of her. “Good morning.”  Maddie moved to throw open the door. “Um-hmmm.” She sniffed appreciatively as they passed the oven that held the souffle. Madeline Singer was the mother everyone deserved but didn’t necessarily get. She’d created a home everywhere they’d landed from the initially uninhabitable Bella Flora to Max Golden’s neglected Deco home on South Beach to the rickety houseboat tethered to William Hightower’s dock. While Max anointed the grass and the nearest bush, she lifted her cell phone and roused it. The first six months rent had been released from escrow and deposited into her account, but the sight of all those zeros didn’t make her anywhere near as happy as it should have. It meant there was not going to be a last minute reprieve. The tenant would move in today. For the next six months he/she/or them would have the run of Bella Flora and the option to stay on for six more months after that. Which meant she and Dustin and Max could be sharing a bedroom in Maddie’s cottage for an entire year while a stranger lived in the house they’d poured their hearts and souls into and that was ‘home’ in every way that mattered. She’d been a fool to believe that everything would somehow magically work out when she’d taken the loan to finance the Sunshine Hotel renovation and their own version of Do Over. Max woofed happily as she pulled a plastic bag from her pocket, picked up his ‘offering,’ then dropped it in a nearby trashcan. She’d changed Dustin’s diapers easily enough but she’d known the day would come when he could toilet on his own. Unless they moved into a rural setting Max was never going to be able to dispose of his own droppings. She did not want to think about how big Max was going to get, or what size plastic bag he would one day require. Inside, she found Dustin sitting at the dinette drinking a cup of orange juice and chatting with his favorite person. That person held out a cup of coffee. “Thanks, Mom.” She swallowed a long sip, let the warmth slide down her throat. “The money’s in my account.” “That’s a good thing, Kyra. That will definitely take some of the pressure off.” “I know. But …” “Come eat.” Three plates containing souffle, buttered toast, and fresh fruit were on their way to the table. Within minutes Kyra was seated. She picked up her fork, but her appetite had fled. “Kyra, you need to let go of the worry. It’s done. Bella Flora’s only on loan. She still belongs to Dustin and you. Emotionally she’ll always belong to all of us.” “It’s just….” Kyra took a bite of souffle, but her usual bliss over the cheesy wonderfulness was missing. She needed to see the tenant for herself. Needed to make sure he wasn’t some Atilla the Hun of houses, bent on destruction. Or someone fronting for Daniel Deranian and Tonja Kay for some nefarious reason she’d yet to figure out. She took another bite of souffle then washed it down with another long pull of coffee. John Franklin was meeting the tenant at eleven to hand over the key. She stole a glance at her phone. It was early. There would be plenty of time after a leisurely breakfast to shower and dress and discover that she’d left something at Bella Flora that they couldn’t possibly be expected live without. # Avery Lawford did not want to get out of bed. Not now. Not ever. She clutched the pillow more tightly to her chest and kept her eyes shut. It would take a crowbar to pry them open. A tow truck to move her. Something warm passed under her nose. It smelled dark and steamy before it moved just out of range then back again. The lovely fog of sleep that had enveloped her began to dissipate. She closed her eyes tighter and wished she could shut her nostrils, but Avery braked for coffee. She drank it for the protection of others and had the T-shirt to prove it.  She burrowed deeper into the cocoon of blankets but her nose betrayed her. No. She would not be ruled by coffee. She was stronger than coffee. The smell retreated. She’d begun to relax back into sleep when the crinkle of paper sounded near her ear. There was movement. A new scent joined the first. She sniffed, a reflex nothing more. She was only human. Sugar. “Avery?” Chase Hardin’s voice was warm and seductive. “There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me get out of this bed right now.” “Nothing?” The bed dipped as he sat on its edge. “You mean you don’t want this Dunkin Donuts coffee or glazed donuts?” He waved each item as he mentioned it. His voice grew muffled as he took a bite of donut and chewed appreciatively. “Ummm, that’s good.” He bent over and kissed her with warm lips sticky with sugar. This was what came of sleeping with a man who knew your weaknesses. She opened her eyes. A large Styrofoam cup of coffee sat on the nightstand. Chase finished off the donut, licked his fingers and grinned. “I don’t remember the last time I spent almost two days in bed.” His blue eyes glittered. Dark stubble covered his cheeks and his hair stuck up in a variety of directions. “I thought we needed sustenance.” When she didn’t make a move, he drew a donut out of the bag and placed it on a napkin next to the cup of coffee. She’d known Chase since childhood, much of which she’d spent crushing on him. They’d grown up on their fathers’ construction sites, gone their separate ways. She’d become an architect. He’d taken over Hardin Morgan Construction. He’d been a royal pain in the ass the whole time he was helping them renovate Bella Flora. And then one day he wasn’t. “Your cupboards are bare,” he said. “A man cannot live on sex and Cheez Doodles alone.” “This woman can,” she replied stung that he would disparage the snack that in the darkest of times could help make life worth living. “I give that donut and coffee about fifteen seconds.” He looked at her knowingly. She wanted to argue. And she really, really wanted to be asleep. She could resist if she wanted to. She could. But what would be gained by rejecting a warm, gooey glazed donut and a steaming cup of coffee? “If you were looking at me like you’re looking at that donut right now we could spend another two days in bed.” He stretched and scratched his chest. “I owe my sister big time for having Dad and the boys up for the week.” His blue eyes turned dark and steamy. They were a magnetic force. The siren call of coffee and donuts grew softer as a shiver of anticipation snaked up her spine. They’d been in bed since New Year’s Eve and today was… “Oh, no!” She sat up. “What?” “What day is it?” She ran her hands under the covers but her phone wasn’t there. “It’s Monday.” “Are you sure?” He nodded without hesitation. “But that means it’s…” “… January second,” they said simultaneously. But it was just a date on the calendar to him.  She began scooting out of bed. “What time is it?” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s .…ten forty.” She took one bite of donut, swallowed it whole, and grabbed the cup of coffee. “How far away did you park?” She moved toward the bathroom very glad the cottage was so tiny. “Hmmm?” “You didn’t park here at the Sunshine, right? I told you I didn’t want anyone to know that we’re…you know…” She nodded toward the bed, which looked like it had been struck by a hurricane. Or lifted by a tornado and tossed around for a night or two. “Everybody knows, Avery. There’s no reason to keep it a secret that we’re back together.” “But we’re not back together.” She raced into the bathroom, turned on the shower, raced back to retrieve the donut. “Having sex doesn’t mean we’re back together. It just means we’re still attracted to each other and spent a couple of days in bed to celebrate the New Year.” Their relationship had foundered during his youngest son Jason’s meltdown and rebellion. Jason was doing better now and repeating his senior year of high school, but Avery could still remember exactly how it felt to be pushed away when things got rough. Other than Maddie, Nikki, and Kyra, the Hardins were the closest thing to family she had yet Chase had completely shut her out when Jason had gone off the rails. Out of the family and out of Hardin Morgan Construction. That they were dating again was due to his abject apologies and powers of persuasion. She enjoyed his company and the sex was spectacular, but she didn’t intend to open herself up to that kind of hurt again any time in this millennium. And she was not prepared to tie her career to his. She devoured the donut in a few hungry bites then stepped into the now hot shower. Ten minutes later she was running a comb through her short blond hair and pulling on a pair of jeans and a Do Over T-shirt. She could almost hear her mother’s ghost hovering above her and sighing over her lack of makeup, but she was a wash and wear kind of girl. And though she no longer hid the Dolly Parton sized bust that was too large for her height in oversized clothes, she had not yet reconciled to the big blue eyes and Kewpie Doll features that caused strangers to deduct IQ points before she even opened her mouth. “Are you staying here or coming with me?” “Where are we going?” He grabbed the bag of donuts. “Out.” “Out where?” She grabbed the keys to the mini-Cooper and headed for the front door. # Nikki and Joe sat at their favorite picnic table at the Paradise Grille overlooking the white sand beach and the gulf that it bounded. A stream of beachgoers passed in both directions. A jovial game of corn hole played out in the soft sand nearby. Sofia and Gemma snoozed happily in the stroller, their faces smeared with the remnants of a scrambled egg breakfast. Seagulls eyed the crumbs left on their plates but so far no dive-bombing had occurred. “God they’re adorable when they’re asleep,” Nikki said looking at the girls’ angelic faces. “Not that they aren’t adorable when they’re awake, but…” “… you’re too busy trying to keep them happy to notice.” Nikki looked at Joe. “You don’t even bat an eyelash when Gemma goes on a screaming jag. Or one of them projectile vomits all over you.” “I may have ended up in the financial crimes unit, but I do have hostage negotiation training,” he said wryly. “I know how to look like I’m not panicking even when I’m scared shitless.” “So when do you think you’ll be able to actually start negotiating with them?” “Well, we know from personal experience that it doesn’t work on pregnant women,” he said. “I can’t remember convincing you of a single thing while you were carrying them. So while I don’t know that there’s a lower age limit, it’s clear rational thought is necessary. And probably the ability to speak or at least understand and process language are too.” “Great.” Nikki slumped. Every morning she vowed this would be the day that she’d become competent and un-harried. The kind of mother who loved her children so much that she never resented the endless demands that created the near constant state of exhaustion. “I’ve got another ten days or so and then I’m going to have to start traveling again.” Her heart sunk further. “Oh?” “Yeah. Which is why I really think we ought to hire someone to help you.” “No. I’m their mother. Taking care of them is my job.” Not a job she’d ever imagined for herself. But it wasn’t one you could resign from. “Nik, they’re too much for the two of us a lot of the time. I can’t leave you alone.” “I won’t be alone,” she said trying to keep the panic out of her eyes and her voice. “Maddie will help. And…Avery and Bitsy will be nearby.” Neither of them mentioned that Bitsy had fallen down on the job the night Nikki had gone into labor. “Kyra and Dustin will be leaving for Orlando in two weeks. And Maddie won’t have a reason to stay here. She’ll be free to travel. Or spend time with Will. Or whatever she feels like. And Avery and Bitsy have no experience with children and aren’t looking to acquire it. Plus they’ll both be working. “I can do it,” she said. “End of conversation.” “But, Nikki. I…” His face smoothed out. She saw him relax his features, his shoulders. Hostage negotiation training her ass.  “Ready to head back?” She’d barely made it this far. In fact, about halfway there she’d been doing more of a brisk walk than a slow jog. “I was thinking maybe I could run back to the cottage and come pick you all up in the car.” He looked at her face. “You know, in case you’d like to just chill here for a while.” “Don’t think I can make it back?” she challenged though she wasn’t totally sure she could. She only knew she was not going to appear too tired or too overwhelmed or too anything in front of him. “No, of course not. I just thought you might want to get back more quickly. It’s getting close to eleven.” “Eleven?” She sat up. “Yes.” “I wouldn’t mind walking a little further. There’s really no rush to get back is there?” “No.” “The girls love the jetty. And the fishermen on the dock.” He gave her a long look. “Sure. Why not?” He busied himself gathering the paper plates and cups and was gentleman enough not to say anything when she took her time getting to her feet. # “That was one of your best egg soufflés ever, Mom. Right Dustin?” Freshly showered and dressed, Kyra strode back into the living room/kitchen where Dustin stood on a stool ‘helping’ his grandmother wash the dishes. “D’licious,” he agreed waving his hands, which were encased in a pair of too-large rubber gloves. Max was under the table licking up the bits of egg that surrounded Dustin’s chair. “What do we say to Grandma?” Kyra asked Dustin as she stole a glance at the clock on the wall then turned her gaze to the coffee table where the car keys typically ended up. “Thank you Geema!” Dustin crowed. “You’re both very welcome,” Maddie said hiding her smile at the speed with which Kyra located and pocketed the car keys. “If you don’t mind keeping an eye on Dustin, I… I  have a couple of things I need to take care of.” Kyra didn’t quite meet her eye as she laid a kiss on Dustin’s head and moved toward the door. “Things?” Maddie asked. “Umm-hmmm.” “Dustin wanna do things too!” Dustin clambered down from the step and held out his arms. Maddie peeled the large yellow gloves from beneath his armpits and down his arms. Kyra checked the clock again. “It’s ten-fifty,” Maddie said. “Where exactly are you going?” “Oh, you know. Here and there. Not far,” Kyra babbled. “I won’t be gone long.” “Kyra…” Her daughter looked up as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.” “I … don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyra protested. “It would be better to just stay away,” Maddie said gently. “Stay away from what?” Kyra adopted an expression of surprised confusion, but any mother worth her salt could read a daughter’s face like a roadmap. It would take more than feigned indignation to make Maddie believe she was headed out to run errands. “Kyra.” “Fine.” Kyra sighed. “It’s not like there’s any chance of keeping a secret when we’re living on top of each other like this anyway.” “If you’re going, we’re going with you.” She picked up the leash and attached it to Max’s collar then handed Dustin his sweatshirt. “Where we going Geema?” Dustin asked as his mother pulled open the cottage door. “If I’m not mistaken, I think we’re going to Bella Flora to get a look at the person who’s going to live there.” TWO Kyra breathed deeply as she drove south on the narrow two lane road, but each breath carried its own little dart of panic that sent her fear of who and what she’d find at Bella Flora shooting through her. She turned on to Gulf Way, her thoughts jumbled and her gaze slightly unfocused.  The familiar scenery rippled and shimmered before her eyes giving the mom and pop hotels and expensive new homes on her left and the low wall and crossovers that bordered the beach on her right, a fun house vibe.    The blocks were short and the avenues that stretched from the bay to the gulf were even shorter. At The Hurricane Restaurant her foot eased further off the gas pedal so that the minivan passed Eighth Avenue, Pass-a-Grille’s ‘main street,’ at what could only be called a crawl. The closer they got to Bella Flora the slower she drove and the sharper and more pointed the panic became.  What if the tenant was Daniel Deranian or Tonja Kay or one of their emissaries? What if he/she/they were trust fund babies with no respect for other people’s property? What if they looked unstable or had a herd of children who would abuse Dustin’s mini-Bella Flora playhouse? The number of things the new tenant would be free to do in/and/or to her home bombarded her. How could she let some stranger sleep in her bed? Hang their clothes in her closet? Lie on their couch? Mix drinks in the Casbah Lounge? How on earth could she have let this happen? “We can still turn around,” Maddie said. “It’s not too late.” She hesitated. “No one will ever know we even thought about doing this.” But though she was driving as slowly as any newly arrived retiree, Bella Flora’s gravitational pull was simply too strong to resist. So was Kyra’s urge to protect her even though it was far too late for that. They passed a couple pushing a jogging stroller. That couple was Nikki and Joe. So much for a lack of witnesses. And then she came face to face with Bella Flora. Rising out of the low walled garden. A pale pink wedding cake of a house with banks of windows framed in white icing trim and bell towers that topped a multi-angled barrel-tile roof and jutted up into the brilliant blue sky. “We going home?” Dustin asked uncertainly. God, she wished they were only coming home from a trip to the grocery store or some other mundane errand and not about to watch some stranger move in. Eyes blurred with tears, Kyra pulled into a parking space. The blue Mini-Cooper in the next spot belonged to Avery Lawford. Max gave a happy woof as they joined Avery and Chase on the sidewalk. A minute later Nikki and Joe arrived, the twins sound asleep in the stroller. Kyra was trying to decide who looked the most embarrassed when a lone figure walked up the path from the jetty. Gatsby style pants fluttering lightly in the breeze, a mint green vest buttoned over an oxford shirt, Ray Flamingo, former designer to the stars, walked up to them. “Beautiful day isn’t it?” “Don’t even try to pretend you were just out for a stroll,” Avery said. “Who me?” Hands in pockets Ray turned to face Bella Flora. “I didn’t realize a house could send a distress signal until today.” “You know that whoever is renting Bella Flora has spent a lot of money to live in her,” Joe said gently. “There’s every reason to expect that person will treat her well.” John Franklin’s Cadillac pulled up in front of Bella Flora at exactly 11:00AM. The car was a classic, like its octogenarian owner and driver. Kyra’s father, Steve, who now worked at Franklin Realty and had been responsible for finding Bella Flora’s mystery tenant, was with him. With Max straining against his leash they trundled over to meet them. “You all look a little more like a lynch mob than a welcoming committee.” John Franklin had a ruff of white hair around an otherwise bald scalp and a long face dominated by the droopy brown eyes of a basset hound. Those eyes looked worried as his hands tightened on the handle of his cane. “Is there a problem?” “That depends,” Kyra said. “On what?” her father asked. “On whether the tenants look as if they can fully appreciate their luck in getting to walk through Bella Flora’s front doors. If they don’t, I might need help stringing them up from the Reclinata Palm out back.” Chase and Joe laughed. Maddie, Avery, and Nikki exchanged worried glances. “We don’t necessarily have to deliver a welcome basket,” Ray said in a conciliatory tone. “But I don’t think we need to be contemplating violence, either.” “Neither do I,” Maddie said. “In fact, I’m not altogether sure we should be here.” As usual her mother seemed intent on keeping the peace. And preventing Kyra from committing a stupid act. If only that had happened before Kyra took the loan out against Bella Flora. “But clearly we’re all curious to see who’s moving in. So I think we should at least act like a welcoming committee. Plus we can let them know that we’re nearby if they have any questions about the workings or idiosyncrasies of the house.” They milled relatively quietly until a car turned off of Pass-a-Grille Way onto Beach Road, passed the Cottage Inn and pulled into Bella Flora’s brick driveway. The car was low, sleek and silver with tinted windows that revealed little. They inched closer, stopping just short of the garden wall as John and her father walked up the driveway. Kyra wasn’t the only one holding her breath as the driver got out of the car. Through the palms and tall bushes she could see only slices at a time; a lone male head of blond hair atop a body that seemed tall and well formed. There was a flash of blue jean and some kind of dark jacket or blazer. He moved with a confident stride that Kyra chalked up to arrogance.  Did that mean he would be careless with other people’s possessions? Or did it mean that he was used to nice things and would take care of theirs? She moved in an attempt to get a better look, but everyone was jockeying for position. Between the bushes and trees John and her father’s backs were the only things clearly visible.  Her father froze briefly. John Franklin’s normally hunched shoulders went stiff. Murmurs of what sounded like surprise reached them. Heart pounding, knees pressed against the concrete, she leaned over the garden wall in an attempt to see more. The tenant cocked his head and she sensed him peering between John and her father as if looking for something or someone. Dustin dropped her hand and moved toward the driveway. A prickle of unease raised the hair on the back of her neck, but she knew from the blond head and build that it wasn’t Daniel Deranian. Was it another movie star? A famous athlete or musician? “Lookit Mommy. Lookit who’s here!” Dustin shouted as he ran up the driveway. Kyra detached herself from the wall and the group to race after him. The breath caught in her throat as the tenant stepped around the two Realtors and reached down to pick up Dustin. She blinked rapidly trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Read the full article

[dansnaturepictures]

Seven of my favourite photos I took in July 2023 and month summary

The photos are of; Marmalade hoverfly at Egleton Nature Reserve at Rutland Water, view at Andrews Mare in the New Forest, Brown Hairstreak at Shipton Bellinger, Chalkhill Blue at Stockbridge Down, Four-spotted Chaser at Hickling Broad, water mint at Lakeside Country Park and White Storks at Knepp.

July was another fantastic wild month for me with so much seen and so many places visited, a key part of real core weeks in my wildlife year. We saw and did so much it feels as though things right at the start were more than a month ago!

It was one of my greatest ever months of butterflies. There were nine excellent species additions to my year; the dream moment when we were amazed to see a Swallowtail in Norfolk, another very successful Purple Emperor search at Knepp seeing them so well as well as Silver-washed Fritillary, White Admiral and lovely White-letter Hairstreak, always a quintessential summer moment I think seeing beautiful Chalkhill Blues at Stockbridge Down and Brown Hairstreak, Wall Brown and Silver-spotted Skipper on an extraordinary day at Shipton Bellinger and Perham Down making my butterfly year list my highest ever. Purple Hairstreak at Knepp and various times at Lakeside was another key butterfly I loved seeing this month, with Marbled White, Ringlet and Small Skipper enjoyed too. The arrival of Big Butterfly Count was something I enjoyed doing, counting the butterflies to help inform how species are doing again. This also helped uncover (although I’d have surely noticed anyway) for me that we are onto a bumper year of Red Admirals with so many around which has been fun. Gatekeeper, Meadow Brown, Small White, Green-veined White, Holly Blue, Common Blue, Comma, Peacock, Brimstone, Small Copper and Small Tortoiseshell were other of the target species enjoyed, with Brown Argus seen nicely this month too. Six-spot Burnet which I’ve also seen so many of this year and Silver Y are day flying moths in the count I’ve liked seeing this month in another good one for moths with my first ever Forester a pretty one and a Mint moth at Stockbridge Down as well as Synaphe punctalis on that pivotal insect day for me as well as Yellow Shell at Knepp, a few Bird-cherry Ermine at Rutland Water and Shipton Bellinger, Pearl Veneer at Lakeside and Pyrausta nigrata at Shipton Bellinger key ones seen.

Bird wise it was another smashing month, with a charming Ruddy Shelduck seen at Petersfield Heath Pond, an inspiring day at Knepp getting exquisite views of the monumental White Storks young and old, of course another valuable chance to see the astonishing and wondrous Bee-eaters at Trimingham on the Norfolk trip and in among all the inspiring talks and lovely interaction at the Bird Fair my first Green Sandpiper and Yellow-legged Gulls of the year at Rutland Water’s Egleton reserve during that long weekend both top birds of my year. On those two weekends away this month part of one of my best runs of weekends throughout the year with so much packed in and many big trips we like to do going to Norfolk and Rutland stunning views of majestic Marsh Harrier, exceptional views of Osprey including seeing one hunt, Hobby seen extremely well and at both gorgeous Great White Egrets so well established in those areas now were other big highlights, with Egyptian Geese enjoyed at both and the Petersfield Heath Pond visit including seeing young. Sand Martin, Common Tern, Blackcap, Linnet and Yellowhammer were other standouts this month, with the Lakeside Great Crested Grebes with both families doing well I really enjoyed seeing multiple times as well as Moorhens with young, seeing Peregrines in Winchester including the chick Rosie too. I have also really appreciated Swift and House Martin this month especially on patch, and with gull numbers going up again at Lakeside young Black-headed and also an adult Mediterranean Gull were key moments there this month.

It was also one of my best ever months for dazzling dragonflies and damselflies, with our first ever Norfolk Hawkers, Brown Hawker, Ruddy Darter and Emerald Damselfly coming into our year on the Norfolk trip, Brown Hawker enjoyed again alongside immense Southern Hawker views at Rutland Water with Common Darter, Four-spotted Chaser and locally and further afield Black-tailed Skimmer seen well this month. It was a top month of mammals with smashing views of Water Vole and Stoat at Rutland Water and Stockbridge Down on the long weekend, big mammals in what has got to be my best year of mammals with so many amazing species seen. Fallow and Muntjac Deers at Knepp and Norfolk respectively added to those brilliant times. There were lots of great moments with other insects with Black Clock beetle, Peacock butterfly caterpillar and Garden Tiger moth caterpillar at Hickling Broad, Marmalade (also seen at Lakeside) and Long Hoverfly at Egleton, Rutland Water in a strong month of hoverflies, striking and symbolic of summer Cinnabar moth caterpillars first seeing these at Knepp, so many Common Red Soldier beetles seen what a stalwart of summer, Black-and-yellow longhorn beetle something I was fixated on at Lakeside and Meadow grasshopper at Stockbridge Down with Common Field Grasshopper at Lakeside standing out with nice spider moments too.

In my plant year July felt like the very mature time in the flower year it is with some of the last flowers I expect to see blooming including hemp agrimony, water mint and red bartsia. Wild carrot, marjoram and basil, great willowherb, purple loosestrife, bird vetch, pyramidal orchid, St. John’s-wort, centaury, restharrow, scabious, mallow, scarlet pimpernel, many white clovers, rosebay willowherb, lady’s bedstraw, cuckoo-pint and agrimony have been others that stood out this month. With wetland, coast, meadow, rich grassland, lakes and woodland explored I enjoyed many breathtaking and panoramic views this month, as the weather was interestingly changeable. Have a good August all.

[thedailyexcelsior]

Invading 'rat of the sky' irks Algerians

ALGIERS: “It’s not a bird, it’s a rat – and it’s squatting on my terrace,” Ali says of his new neighbour, a yellow-legged gull – a pest ubiquitous in the Algerian capital.

The 60-year-old is not alone in despising this versatile scavenger, whose Mediterranean population has boomed in recent decades.

The “rat of the sky” has taken advantage of human waste to supplement its normal marine diet,…

[bestgullpoll]

Round 1, Side B: Match 16

[Image ID: Two pictures of gulls. The left is a brown-hooded gull with its head stretched up and forward and bill open in a call. The right is a great black-headed gull with its head pulled back and bill wide open in a call. /End ID]

The brown-hooded gull (Chroicocephalus maculipennis) is a small gull found in southern South America. They typically measure 35-37 cm (14-15 in) in length. They have a dark brown head, white eye crests, white underparts, light grey back, orange-red legs, and dark red bill. Their grey wings are darker at the tips with a large white "mirror." They eat insects, invertebrates, and carrion, and steal food from other birds. The black-headed duck has a brood parasite relationship with the brown-hooded gull, where the duck will lay an egg in the gull's nest to be incubated by the gull.

The great black-headed gull (Ichthyaetus ichthyaetus) breeds in southern Russia and Mongolia and migrates to winter in the eastern Mediterranean, Arabia, and India. They are the third-largest gull in the world, measuring 55-72 cm (22-28 in) in length and 142-170 (56-67 in) in wingspan. They have a black head, white eye crescents and underparts, grey back and wings with black tips and white "mirrors," and yellow legs and bill with red and black tip. They eat fish, crustaceans, insects, and even small mammals.

brown-hooded gull image by Cláudio Dias Timm

great black-headed gull image by Dmitry Mikhirev

[bestgullpoll]

Round 3: Match 43

[Image ID: Two pictures of gulls. The left is a red-legged kittiwake standing on a rock with its back facing the viewer. The right is a great black-headed gull and chick on grass. The adult is scratching its head with one foot. /End ID]

The red-legged kittiwake (Rissa brevirostris) is a small gull that breeds on islands in the Bering Sea and spends the winter at sea. They typically measure 35-39 cm (14-15 in) in length and 84-92 cm (33-36 in) in wingspan. They have white underparts and head, dark grey back and wings with black tips, short yellow bill, and red legs. They feed on fish, squid, and invertebrates. They are named after the color of their legs and the sound of their call, which resembles a long "kit-ti-wake." They are listed as vulnerable by the IUCN.

The great black-headed gull (Ichthyaetus ichthyaetus) breeds in southern Russia and Mongolia and migrates to winter in the eastern Mediterranean, Arabia, and India. They are the third-largest gull in the world, measuring 55-72 cm (22-28 in) in length and 142-170 (56-67 in) in wingspan. They have a black head, white eye crescents and underparts, grey back and wings with black tips and white "mirrors," and yellow legs and bill with red and black tip. They eat fish, crustaceans, insects, and even small mammals.

red-legged kittiwake image by Dick Daniels

great black-headed gull image by Dmitry Mikhirev

[bestgullpoll]

Round 1, Side A: Match 8

[Image ID: Two pictures of gulls. The left is an Audouin's gull in flight. The right is a Sabine's gull in flight. /End ID]

The Audouin's gull (Ichthyaetus audouinii) lives in the Mediterranean and along the western coast of Saharan Africa and the Iberian Peninsula. They typically measure 48-52 cm (19-20 in) in length and 125-138 cm (49-54 in) in wingspan. They have white underparts and head, pale grey upperparts, greyish-green legs, and short red bill with dark yellow tip and black band. Their pale grey wings are black at the tips with small white spots. They specialize in eating fish and rarely scavenge, unlike many large gulls. They are listed as vulnerable by the IUCN.

The Sabine's gull (Xema sabini) is a small gull that breeds in the Arctic and migrates south to winter off the western coasts of South America and southern Africa. They typically measure 27-33 cm (10-13 in) in length and 81-87 cm (32-34 in) in wingspan. Their head is charcoal grey edged in black, their body is white, and their bill is black with a yellow tip. They have a white forked tail and red eyering. Their wings show a striking triangle pattern of grey, white, and black. They eat small fish, crustaceans, and insects, and occasionally eggs or nestlings of other birds.

Audouin's gull image by Adam Kumiszcza

Sabine's gull image by Nick Athanas