Thursday, 16 March 2017

Carol Will Know

  On my walk along the disused railway, I was stopped by a twitcher.  She was in comfortable blues and a khaki pashmina threaded through a plus-sized woggle.  In a rich, beautifully modulated voice she said that I'd been probably wondering about the noise out there - meaning the conservation area.  'It's probably a duck, rather than a goose; except that the call is so low and raspy. Can't actually see what it might be.  I'm puzzled, frankly.'
  I said, 'I'll ask Carol from the shop when I walk back.  She always knows.'
  The twitcher nodded, clearly accepting one of the wisdoms of Thorpeness.
 

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