As queer as a coot...

Coots. That was to be today's subject. The warm spell and bright sunshine has got them thinking about procreation, or that's what it seemed was going on on the back garden fence this morning.

There's obviously a bit of voyeur in my jeans genes so I crept up the side of the house with my long lens in my firm grip. Every time I got within 5 yards (short metres) the little buggers flew off into the scrub and weeds at the far side of the pond. Three times I tried to catch the little procreators at it and three times I failed.

So here it is, my pic of no flipping coots on the farm pond.

BTW 'Queer as a coot' has been around for a long time, long before the homophobics stole it. It used to mean odd or strange. Despite a lot of research (5 minutes on Google) I can't find what is supposed to be queer about a coot. perhaps procreating on a farm fence gave rise (no pun intended) to the expression. Who knows. Who cares?