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Filey Brigg, Scarborough.

Our last time out before our second lockdown, where do you fancy going Phil asked, anywhere warm said Steve. Well Phil assured me, even guaranteed, it would be dry, perhaps a little blustery he said! Now I trust Phil, but his face said one thing and I could hear his brain saying "you're gonna get wet, very wet you lightweight". When we arrived in the car park it was a little windy, I opened the boot of the car and the wind got hold of some of the contents and before you could blink they were fifty metres away.

As we walked down towards the beach the skys opened up and that rare old thing the sun started to show itself and within ten minutes we had the images below.
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The kestrel was hunting all the time that we were there, the walk down to the brigg and the whole walk back took a couple of hours and this little master of the sky was hunting the whole time.
Don't walk on the rocks, there very very slippy my mind said, I'm fine said my brain.
Steve stupid Farley
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I don't know the history of Filey Brigg but I've always remembered it right from my childhood. As a child it was one of those forbidden places, "don't go down there, the tide will cut you off and you'll have to be rescued". You could see the waves crashing on the rocks, a frightening place, a place you didn't really want to go, even though you all know at the age of 9 "I was actually Superman".

As we got closer we could see the Rock Pipits above our heads, skittish and loud. Different Gulls, Black Backed, Black Headed and those you're not quite sure about. Cormorants sunbathe on the rocks as Purple Sandpipers, Turnstones and even Pigeons forage below their feet.

As you look at the sun, the surf and the beauty of the birds, people's voices linger in the air as your legs start doing a Linford Christie animated run in mid air and you hit the rock, your whole body paralysed with pain as onlookers say "stupid man" Ooo the joys of birding.
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