I’m climbing down the shallow cliffs to the sea to take photographs of Puffins in flight when I hear the usual pipping of a Rock Pipit. This time, though, it’s more urgent and insistent than I’m used to. Something must be going on to disturb them. It’s then that I realise that it’s me that’s ‘going on’. There’s a newly fledged bird on the rocks. It’s just fluttered onto a cliff with the weakest, most feeble flight I’ve seen in a long time, and is now clinging there, desperate to remain undiscovered. It’s pretty good camouflage, isn’t it?
As the adult pips and hops about I continue my climb down, so I don’t disturb them.
I wish their lovely little family luck as I go.