With the tide rising over Kirkcudbright Bay at dawn, and a few decoys floating at the burn mouth, I had high hopes of some wigeon seeking shelter on the lee shore where I was lurking. I was not very successful, spotting the only little group that came too late. Once it was properly light, away to the south, the greylags that had been roosting on the tide started to flight, each skein beating into the moderate northeasterly breeze and then climbing steeply to cross the shoreline.
It was a standard midwinter pattern; the geese had long worked out that the place of greatest danger