I can't think of a pun- title for this.

No- I can't think. I'm sure there's a dodgy pun in there somewhere but I just can't find it without trying to shoehorn some reference to scrotums.

Needless to say I was delighted to come across the three Common Scoter at the settling beds yesterday afternoon. It was one of those quirks of fate that happen sometime. Dunc had already dropped in at the BF twice, so if I had gone down there any earlier things may have been different. As it was, due to another car parked in the best spot, I initially drove on by to check the fields further on to see if there were any watery puddles I could use for reference for a painting of grazing Wigeon I started the other day. On my way back, I pulled in to have a quick look at the gathering of Shoveler- and only got out the car after I heard a Wigeon whistle. Wigeon are not unusual visitors to the beds, but they don't turn up all that frequently, so they're always worth a quick look.

Scanning past the harlequin parade of twirling Shovelers, three sleeping duck caught my eye. Longish, stiff tails poking at acute angles, and the pale cheeks and dark crown of one of them immediately brought to mind ruddy duck, a species that used to be unnervingly common on this water- but two of the birds were black. I know there are dark stifftails in the Americas- but these must be scoters, surely.

The problem now was that I'd only come out for a quick gasp of fresh air really, and was therefore unprepared. I rushed home to get my camera, and text Dunc the news- figuring he might need Common Scoter for his Ely10 list that he doesn't keep at all except he knows exactly what he's got on it. Of course I forgot my specs, and so after half an hour of not really knowing if I was getting anything in focus, I made another trip back after Dunc arrived.

The air was virtually still, and the sun shone mostly- giving the two males a glossy sheen that turned brown as they changed angle, and made their eyes glow amber. 

Across the back the Buzzards and Marsh Harriers briefly spiraled up together, and on the water the Shovelers mirrored them with their own spiraling fractal patterns. I did briefly notice three Wigeon, but priorities change. All-in-all it was a relaxing bubblebath of an afternoon, with pastel waters and sonorous birding. Mellow-nitta. There, I knew there had to be one somewhere.I hate myself.