I usually find it is about twenty minutes after the first Water Rail has called that they move. I arrive at the best viewpoint as the sun goes down and the Water Rails kick in, at least six noted. A couple of Cetti’s sing weakly from each side of the lake. Still plenty of light in the sky, but start scanning. The ducks become restless, a Woodcock whizzes across the sky onward to some unknown feeding area. The last gulls pass through towards the roost, light levels drop. It’s Mallard time; birds are suddenly flying everywhere. Then the Pochard are alert, nodding to each other, and at some given signal, all get up and fly, probably south to the Thames. Very little light now, keep the resolve, keep scanning. There. The distinctive shape comes across the lake and crashes into the reeds in front of me. The Bittern has returned to its favoured roost site. Time for the football results.
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