a soft murmuring or rustling sound; whisper.
As I wander down to the reedbed at Red Rocks a soft rustling, a whipser comes from the gently swaying Phragmities.
It is the only sound. I am the only one hearing it as there is noone else here. I'm on my own.
Not many people will be able to claim to have had West Kirby beach and Red Rocks to themselves on a double bank holiday weekend. It is just turning 6 o'clock in the morning and the sun is hanging low and pinky orange.
The beach still bears the scars of yesterdays day trips. It is like a litter bomb has gone off.
Gulls and Magpies pick through the wreckage of the barbeques and take-a-ways discarded by lazy beach-goers.
It is not these birds that I am after. The breeze causing the susurrus is south easterly and that means migration. Wheatears are still passing through, more of them later.
Whimbrel are on the outer edge of the saltmarsh. They take off with their 7 whistles call piercing the susurrus, a 21 whistle salute and off they fly towards Hilbre.
I follow the song of one and eventually I'm rewarded as he hops up and up a stem and into the clear long enough for me to capture his image for this blog.
That has to be that I think after the bird hops out of sight. Time is running out on this session, I have to be at work soon. I head home for a bowl of museli (not a great breakkie, but I'm tyring to cut out the greasy stuff!) a quick change and a cycle ride along Chiffchaff Alley.
There is still one more encounter to come as I wander back. A few Wheatears are drifting about and I notice one perched on a rock not far away. They are usually pretty flighty but this one seems quite content that I am walking up to it. It's on the path, I'm not stalking it but as it is posing (like the fem Reed Bunting earlier) I take a few frames.