Linda and I drove north through a busy Wroxham to the fast-disappearing village of Happisburgh (pronounced 'Haze- bru'!) The juvenile Rose-coloured Starling that had eluded Brian, Norman and me yesterday was allegedly showing quite well, so - despite the gloomy weather forecast - we thought we'd have a bash. In fact, we didn't have to wait at all: the charming little 'yellow-billed biscuit' was grovelling around a couple of pallets of bricks, on which it eventually perched. It flew off for an hour, before returning to pose on a phone wire before being chased to the far side of the field by a pugnacious Blackbird.
Bonus year tick was a drake Velvet Scoter: no photo, but a kind birder let me have a good look through his 'scope.
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