Sunday 1 August 1915, Kingsnorth


A hot Sunday created a longing for a breath of sea air. This craving I was fortunate enough to be able to satisfy and this afternoon I was able to return to my old haunts – New Romney and Littlestone. I was not a little surprised to discover two belated young Kentish plovers feeding with their mother on the open sands quite a hundred yards from the high water mark. They appeared to be in a dangerously exposed situation, for besides a few stray pieces of seaweed they had nothing in which they could conceal themselves. The feathers on the mantle, scapular, wing and breast were just beginning to replace the first infantile downy covering.



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