“On the Post,” she cried.
We were driving along a flat farmland, busy, country road. Which Post? Seemed an obvious question from the driver’s side view. Thought I was supposed to be keeping it on the blackstuff, and avoiding making close personal contact with the oncoming traffic.
“Back there, on your side.” Makes it even harder.
Slow down a bit, look for a spot to pull off the road. No easy matter either as we’ve had a good share of rain of late and the pools on the grass on the side of the road, are not a promising parking location. 500 metres and I’m off the road. Now to wait for a break in the traffic to get around avoid cars in both directions. I’ve seen it less busy on a club day at Winton or Philip Island circuits.
“Think its a Brown Falcon,” so around we go. “There.”, but I’ve spotted it in the sunshine by then. Another of the avoid other car contact at all costs manoeuvres, and I’ve got the car about 50 metres from the most likely photo spot.
Slog back through the mud, avoiding if possible the road spray from our passing friendly roadsharing traffic.
By the time we’d got to a break in the roadside bushes, I’d already called “Peregrine Falcon”. Much too broad across the shoulders for your average Brown.
“It’s caught something,” Something, being, as it soon becomes apparent, is a rabbit.
First problem. The first signs of a morning seamist are just about on top of us, and the sunlight has a limited tenure. Second, the bird is much too far away in the middle of the fence line. Thirdly in my haste to slosh down here, I’ve left the Teleconverter in the car. Bad move.
Two passes by a magpie and the Falcon is a bit nervous, and takes to the air, at first I thought because of its run, it was going to come close, but it soon swung out, around, and headed down the line. Now too far for much else than enjoying the moment.
Then the seamist closed in, and we needed a guide dog to get back to the car, and the strains of bagpipes and Paul McCartney’s “Mull of Kintyre” ringing in my ears.