ROOKS

My lunch date cancelled because of flu, so with some extra time and a clear blue sky, I set off to spend some time with our local buzzard.

As I reached his normal hunting ground, he flew across the front of the car, only about 1.5 m from me. However, by the time I had parked and walked down the margin of the wood, he had gone, quartering slowly over the ploughed fields and coming to rest in a distant hilltop copse. While waiting for his return, I practised on some rooks, a surprisingly difficult subject. I almost fell over a couple of times as I tried to follow them wheeling round.