Some recent year ticks.
Blackcap (I can hear it singing as I type)
Reasonably predictable you might think. The astute reader will be wondering exactly what Norfolk heather moorland I saw the Red Grouse on. I didn’t. The even more astute reader will put two and two together, apply Occam’s Razor, and realise that I left Norfolk. Which I did. The Grouse in question was seen just south of a place called Penistone.
I repeat, just south of a place called Penistone.
I suspect that the locals pronounce it T’ Pennistun, and no childish giggles would ensue upon reference to said village. Not in my car. It was Penis-tone. And said, just like that, everytime a sign was passed with Penis. Tone. written on it. Childish I know.
I’m tempted to move there.