A well-travelled blog, even in this heat!

Every now and then, I take a look at the statistics on where in the world this blog is being read. There's been an odd trend recently, and I'd love to know what explains it. For most of the life of the blog, the vast majority of readers were from the UK. Recently, however, British readership has slumped, and Italy and the US have overtaken big time. The table below shows page views for yesterday.

Odd, isn't it? Why are Italians so interested? And why am I losing readers from the UK? (Am I that boring?) Four readers in Cambodia? Two in The UAE?? And just who is that one lonely reader in Canada? Maybe some of you from outside of the UK could use the comments facility at the bottom, and introduce yourselves? Please? I'd love to hear from you.

I fixed the mushroom vent. That glue is truly amazing! And we've started on the chimney, too. It's not as difficult and scary as we'd imagined, of course. It's just slow because the sealant we're using in conjunction with glass-fibre rope takes hours to set fully. And of course, it's been VERY hot, which doesn't help with jobs. The maximum temperature in the cabin has been 32° C, with all windows and doors open. But, of course, the skies are wonderful.

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War's been declared at the marina

I don't have any photos, I regret to say. The skirmishes happen so quickly that I don't have time to get my camera. They often break out after dark, too. It's very frustrating. And when the fighters fly over, we just keep our heads down, hoping they don't bomb the boat. Getting to sleep at night's not easy. The row is unbelievable. We managed to catch some shut-eye last night during a lull in the combat, but we were awoken again before dawn to the same, dreadful sound of conflict.

I am referring, of course, to geese. An army of about 30 Canada Geese, and a much smaller platoon of around 6 Greylags.

commons.wikipedia.org

eastsussexbirding.co.uk

It all started a couple of days ago, and the confrontations always follow the same pattern. The Canadian mob land in the marina pound, noisy as always. Some time later, the Greylags land behind them, and a melée ensues. Typically, there's a spat between an individual from each side, which soon turns from vocal to physical, with the rest of them gathered around, cheering their mate on. The two look as if they're trying to drown each other or simply peck the other to death, and sometimes the violence spreads through the crowd, and other pairs get embroiled in the moment, caught up in the frenzy.

Then suddenly, as if in response to a command from their general, the Canadians take off as one, sounding their war-cry as they rise in formation. It's then that the boats get bombed. And I washed ours today! They soar off into the distance, gather more closely together, wheel around in a half-mile diameter circle and return to the battlefield, diving in behind the Greylags just as the Greylags had first attacked them.

Again, the armies' respective champions engage in battle. Again, others take on the nearest enemy, and then this time it's the turn of the Greylags to take off, pursued down the marina by a small number of Canadians before take-off.

The Canada gaggle shake themselves down, calling out from one to another, calming down slowly. And then a peace settles on the water. The geese wait, still, silent.

Meanwhile, the Greylag forces are regrouping, gaining height, circling, re-arming, preparing...