First Sandwich Terns of the year for me in the Divit as they begin their autumn accumulation on the Forth.
Most notable event of the morning though was a cacophony of Magpies from the quarry which merited investigation. As I approached half a dozen Magpies were screeching and jumping around what turned out to be a Raven. I could just make out the edge of a Magpie wing from what I supposed to be a corpse in the process of being eaten. When I got closer the Raven flew off into nearby cover presumably hoping to return once the disturbance had passed. The other Magpies also beat a retreat.
I expected to see a half eaten Magpie, but as I approached a juvenile Magpie hopped up onto its feet, scruffy (from youth) and probably a bit shocked but otherwise apparently none the worse for wear. As a grim side-note I did check that it still had two eyes - it did. It walked and hopped a bit before flying off to join the others. Thus I became the hero of Magpies everywhere and no doubt Magpie folk lore for the ages. Ravens, though, may not like me so much.