Festival-ed out

We went up to the allotment and put in a fairly long shift - it was also quite hot. The local sparrows were sampling the new seed D had given them and chatting noisily in the forsythia when I saw out of the corner of my eye a larger bird drop vertically down into the foliage. There were brief sounds of panic and one spudger shot out and across to Willie's hedge as if the hounds of hell were after him. Eventually we saw a female sparrowhawk rise up out of the bush and fly away. According to Collins guide they "Often fly low over ground making surprise attacks; can even pursue small birds on foot under bushes..." It was impossible to tell if she caught anyone.

On our way home across the Links we saw these four stretched out on the grass, dead to the world. They'd been up all night, I guess.

In the evening we went up to Kay's bar to meet Q, who was visiting for some work-related thing, and several other chums including Trev. We drank rather a lot of beer - Jarl mostly, which was delicious.