Yes, it’s that day that birders dread. Ask me what my year list is. Go on, ask me.
Well, right now the answer is nought. Nada, zero, nothing, zilch, diddly squat, naff all, nuttin’, naaaht!
This is not acceptable and can only be rectified by racing around the roads of north norfolk and shouting bird names out of the window of a vehicle to my trusty, if only for one day of the year, secretary in the form of the long suffering Mrs Thing. If you tune in later, after the dark after the light after this dark, I may have a number for you. I may even compare that number to the number from last year. Don’t get too excited though, they are generally not very big numbers. And this year, I may even have seen a dead sperm whale which appears on none of my lists ever.
For your information, this is one of those auto-timed postings that I prepared in April last year for a laugh. I am not really blogging drivel as the new year comes in. The reality of the situation at 12:01 on new years day is that I am either stupified by booze watching fireworks, or in bed. Asleep.
Either way, my year list is rather poor right now.
Tawny Owl anyone?