Bleary eyes and head-torch hair, coffee-breath and walkie-talkie in hand.
Hunched close against the cold, waiting for the survey to start.
Bitching about sleeplessness and swapping tales of sat-nav errors.
Peering into the gloom, shifting from foot to foot.
Swapping the detector hand, to stuff the other into a jacket pocket.
Asking myself the perennial question: Why the hell do I do this?
Slowly a glow appears on the horizon, the first herald of day.
A blackbird shouts first and soon the dawn chorus grows.
The flit of a bat returning and swarming, joined soon by many more.
The drive home, slow and careful, swerving to avoid a suicidal badger.
Chill forgotten, sleeplessness forgiven, tasteless, tepid coffee accepted.
Thoughts of bat and birds and badgers. I recall now, why I do it.
Keep up to date with the latest posts Facebook.com/Davidsbatblog
No comments:
Post a Comment