Conceivably being dropped on my head as a child is the only plausible explanation for going out in weather like this afternoon's downpour, but it suited my mood, and a quick stroll round the Sands Lake at Ainsdale seemed a good idea.
Besides, I'm not ready to renew my "Nocturnal Birders Club" membership for the winter just yet (although I confess to counting Redwing calls on clear nights this last week or so).
At the lake today, best I could rustle up out of the sodden bushes were a few Brown Rats, Robins, Wren and Dunnock, while on the water there were 110 Tufted Duck, and probably as many Mallards, if not more, with the usual Little Grebe and Mute Swans.
Rather than end up wetter than a Coot's backside, I headed for home after half an hour, leaving the lakeside to a dejected looking Feral Pigeon.
Eyes to the skies everyone, eyes to the skies...