It’s over 20 years since Little Egrets colonised South Devon. I’m on the banks of the River Teign and one has caught a flatfish.
The flatfish is too large to swallow. That brings the interest of a juvenile gull.
It’s a little breezy so the decorative feathers are clear to see.
It’s still struggling with that flatfish.
It’s time to manipulate it again to get it head first.
Then it’s down-the-hatch:
No. It comes back up again.
It tries to shake it and pull it and drops it in the water and picks it up again. Several times.
Finally it flies, gripping the flatfish firmly.
I wonder how many times it’s going to gag on it before it finally swallows it or gives up.
I don’t want to think about it.