I stood and watched the sunset behind Grange, while C did her Qi Gong and Gus fossicked in the grass looking for who knows what. This is the place to be at this time in the evening, hardly anyone about but for our neighbour M who takes her exercise up the hill to see the sun go down and the estuary lit up by the reflected sky. The main channel swirls and curves, constantly changing and now turning north towards Grange. When Dr T and I walked round the Bay a few weeks ago before the Lockdown, there was a vast expanse of drying mudflats from our south side standpoint and we were drawn by the sound of birds honking from the distant channel. All we could see through binoculars were the tall white necks of forty or so whooper swans that had paused on their migration north to Iceland to roost in the channel - a phenomenon I had not previously witnessed.
Standing here last night listening, there was virtually no road noise from the Lindale bypass that in normal times is the background accompaniment. And more audible than usual was the nasal chattering of linnets in the scrubby field below. I had always thought that there was just a small population confined to an area of tall gorse, but now it's apparent they are more numerous and dispersed across the field in the hawthorn and blackthorn scrub.
A beautiful end to a bright but cool day. As we left, the sky turned crimson in a protracted sunset.