Chuffed with choughs and portentous peregrination

Apparently the word chuffed doesn't just mean feeling pleased or happy, but also (more historically) precisely the opposite - what a great language English is.  And both meanings fairly well describe how I felt about choughs at times this summer.  On Saltee and then Skomer decent pictures escaped me, so my last chance fell to a deer park, best known for not having any deer!
Leaving Skomer (yes, this post is that far behind) the weather looked set fair for a couple of days so I decided to stay at the campsite at Marloes and have two more days in Pembrokeshire.

The original thinking had been to day trip back to Skomer (so close to the mainland that with a big lens you could clearly see the farmhouse we had stayed in the last 2 nights),

but it had been apparent the puffins were very much evening targets.  Instead I decided to spend the time looking for a range of coastal birds at the Marloes Deer Park, named for a failed attempt to establish one. What it did have was a plentiful supply of gorse and the sort of rabbit nibbled turf that the reputed choughs would be seeking.

So there followed 2 days of walking, watching, walking and snapping ..... and walking.

Not having many shots of linnet, stonechat and wheatear it was good to see they were around, and I was pleased but surprised to hear there was a flock of up to 17 chough - thought to be youngsters not yet paired up.  I hadn't expected to see so many whitethroat, but their more territorial nature helped plan shots more easily.

The odd chough could be heard but then a flock of 15 did appear.  This was great in terms of potential, but they were a bit wary and their gregarious nature meant it was actually quite hard to isolate one or two to get a picture.  In the end I could have done better, but was still fairly happy with a few of the pics.

If you watch Springwatch the door with a hole cut in it may jog a memory? 

A small building on the path down to the boats is home to nesting swallows (I hope the person who sent in the shot of the nest doesn't mind this snap from my tv being used here but I'm afraid I didn't note her name).  Anyway the nestbuilding swallows were collecting their mud from the bank of a small stream.  I got a few shots - and some pretty wet clothes.

So it had been a good end to the trip.  At sunrise on the final day, and awkwardly into the sun, I had a pretty close and best ever view of a bird that unbeknownst to me would consume the bulk of my snapping the through the rest of the summer.