Nearly fucked it up though, didn't I?
A small bird behind one of the hawthorn in the pub scrub caught my attention. Whitethroat natch! But even to my miopic-jump-to-any-conclusion like mind it were a wrong-un! Something about the eye. Too far for the bins I circled closer. Still looked strange and kinda shrike like. Preposterous.
I rounded my last bit of cover, camera ready. Of course the bird flew before the clunky focusing could get a fix. An hour full of expletives later wandering around the pub scrub it pops up on a dead tree in Alex scrub. Well I never...
... and if a Whitethroat had popped up in that time, well I never would have!