Was it something we said?

Sullied by Saturday's mega-dip, last Sunday provided the opportunity for a cleansing walk along the South West Coast Path from Ringstead to Lulworth Cove with my old friend Michael, who is in training for a Pennine Way walk. Within a couple of days, a big chunk of the path we walked on had fallen into the sea. Was it something we said?

Before starting our coastal walk, there was just time to dip on the Red-rumped Swallow that wasn't at Lodmoor. This showy Cetti's was nice though.

Michael is one of the more regular comment-leavers on this blog, usually making some obscure reference to Leeds United or an even more obscure reference to our days at Brunel University (it's in Uxbridge. Say it fast enough and it sounds like 'Oxbridge').

Blue Tit at Lodmoor

Michael understands the listing instinct as he visits minor league grounds for fun, though still maintains that, barring a natural disaster, at least he can be pretty certain the ground will be there when he arrives, unlike certain rare birds which I'd rather not talk about, like Rock Thrush. I maintain that, despite recent dips, my strike rate is still higher than the proportion of games he would have seen Leeds win this season had he gone to every one (36.36% in case you're wondering).

Fulmars cruise the cliffs near Durdle Door

Being a proud Yorkshireman, Michael feels perfectly at liberty to comment on the rules and customs of birding, about which he knows nothing, while finding it extremely difficult to accept that I might have a legitimate opinion about football, about which I know a tiny bit. Yet still we get on, even though I constantly interrupted his training yomp with frequent stops to photograph birds along the way.

This Peregrine was hovering and repeatedly stooping at the clifftop... 

Michael also blogs, along with others in the 'loveleedshatebates' movement. This, I assume, documents their admiration for a Mr Ken Bates, who used to own Chelsea before 'filthy rich' became 'not rich enough', and their disdain for Leeds United, who used to win things when they were little. Fortunately, Michael has an excellent sense of humour, so won't mind me taking the Tetley out of him on the internet. At least I hope not. He'll leave a rude comment if I'm wrong.

...when I got to the top I could see why: it had lost out to this Raven over a pigeon carcass.

I'm off to Scotland for a few days now, so a period of silence will ensue. Plus a glut of rarities in Dorset. Probably at Swineham. Enjoy!