Down at the river

A week or so ago I went to the big river and took some photos. There was no story. Sorry. (I have a maybe-story from the little river, but I haven't sorted through all the photos yet.)

At the big river, an egret was practicing for the 100-metre sprint.


A kingfisher posed for me on the path.


Another little bird pretended to be a kingfisher, and I took its photo. It was only after zooming in on the (not very good) photo that I realized that it was not a kingfisher. I don't know what it was, but it was very cute.


There were a lot of gulls.


At one point, the gulls all suddenly took to the air. I took a picture. They looked like the Hitchcock movie.


Then I noticed why they had taken to the air. Poor wee doggie. The river is not very deep at the moment, and he got out quite a way before realizing none of the gulls was going to sit there and wait for him.


After that I came home again. It was a cold, grey sort of day, and my fingers and toes were turning blue.