There’s a Ringed Plover on the shoreline of North Ronaldsay, one of the most northerly islands of Orkney:
I creep closer to it along the rocks:
It’s a fine bird. There are two here:
Suddenly I notice it act strangely. It starts unfolding one wing into the most unnatural position and dragging it on the floor behind it. It’s the classic ‘broken wing act’ to lure a potential predator away from the nest, which means it must have eggs or young nearby. I check my feet and walk slowly and very gingerly away.
What an amazing evolutionary adaptation.