Weaver bird watching
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In fact they are the nests of weaver birds... hence the birds' names, as these nests are woven very expertly. It's astonishing to think that these nests swing from the palm tree branches, but are not dislodged by even the most violent of storms. I cannot figure out exactly what makes them so strong. Is it the density of the weave?
One can watch them for hours. (Okay... I confess... I did!).
The gas situation is worse apparently. The Boss has sent out one of his drivers at 6am to Cape Coast just to make sure he is in the queue. When I enquire at noon, there has been no word back.
The situation is worst for the taxi-drivers of course, many of whom run their cars on LPG.
Rather than waste anyone's gas, I walk into Elmina.
Occasionally there is evidence of the grass fires which gouge out the undergrowth here; especially in the electricity posts along the track which are black and charred at the ends. Suzi tells me of one occasion when they were all out in the night throwing endless buckets of water on the posts to prevent their complete engorgement by the flames.
One odd thing... the bird sounds run out about halfway along the track to the main road, and the small birds seem to disappear. Perhaps the growing number of kites at this point frightens them off, and so accounts for that phenomenon?