Another very windy, rainy day in Campbeltown. Walking along the front earlier I heard a familiar sound in an unfamiliar place.
The wren is the smallest bird in Britain, but quite common. It’s most often seen, though usually first heard, darting round in the shrubbery, and the low bushes and bracken. Sometimes in the trees but usually close to the ground. Places with shelter.
Jenny had decided that the place to sing out loud today was upon a very exposed railing along the seafront, facing into the wind. It was a tiny act of defiance, but impressive none the less.
There was shelter to hand. She later popped down to the sloped sea wall where there were plenty of nooks and crevices. But for a couple of minutes she blasted out her best rattly soprano while I, the sum total of her audience, watched in admiration.
I felt like applauding. I really enjoyed the gig. But I learnt a lesson too:
Don’t wait for perfect conditions - Do it now.