We spotted them when walking to the west and the east—relatively large birds with long necks and shiny black feathers were sitting on the tide markers on top of the dilapidated groynes. We approached them slowly, thinking that they might fly away, but they didn’t. They nonchalantly groomed their backs, looking at us with regal indifference.
“Are they herons? Or small storks perhaps?” I asked L., as their look reminded me of both types of birds. L. didn’t know either.
They weren’t: sometimes my ignorance about wildlife feels almost painful. They were cormorants, natives to the North Sea, and their necks are similar to those of prehistoric creatures—at least, what biologists would tell you, I guess.
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