Avocet. Attenborough. Standing at the screen overlooking the wader scrape, two birdwatchers casually asked if I had seen the Avocet! Almost disbelieving them I located the bird and hurriedly got the sketchbook out but moments later an immature Black headed Gull chased the wader off and I thought it had gone - without getting any sketches. After a few minutes I scanned the area to find it had returned to the same place and was busily feeding. It swam for the majority of time and up-ended like a duck frequently, kicking its legs out. The Gull constantly followed and harrassed the feeding bird at every opportunity. The wind was savage blowing directly into my face from the east and numbed my hands and face. After a while the Avocet swam to an island and slept, its black and white plumage tinged pink by the sun.