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The following pair of Forster’s Terns were unconcerned by my presence as I parked close to the guardrail where they were perched. They seemed busy deciding when to plunge into the marsh water to look for fish.

“Lots of fish down there! High tide is bringing them into the marsh.”

“Here we go, 1, 2, …3”

“I can’t do it!”

“Sure you can! Go!”

Forster’s Tern hovered before coming back to the guardrail.

“Again!”

Flight.

Landing.

Standing.