Dawlish Warren on a sunny Saturday autumn afternoon.
We walk out to The Hide, but a low tide means we don’t see many wading birdies: a solitary curlew, a solitary little egret; a flocket of linnets, a couple of crows – and that’s about it.
But it feels snuggly being in this hide drinking homemade lentil and ginger soup looking out on the soggy mudflats of the estuary.
I’m doing my customary clips of films, trying to capture a Golden Medal moment that isn’t quite happening due to lack of bird activity. But it’s feeling ok enough – more Bronze than Gold.
The quiet of the hide hiding us from the exposed basin of The Bight feels becalming.
On the limp back we snapple a few tall reeds for the reed boat Haze wants to make for her Unicorn box.
I’m stroking the noses of docile Shetland ponies.
A pair of swans yap lap green algae off the top of a reedy pond next to the visitor centre.
By 4 it’s just turned towards dimpsy and the day feels done; time to be heading back for buttered crumpets.