And streeeetch...

"I expect to see some frame-filling shots from you later," said an ooling owling friend to me last week, having seen several Shorties fly straight past me from his position further along the wall. Well, I failed pretty badly that day, but I think I can claim to have done a bit better today. Certainly the owl was doing its best here - in fact, if I'd tightened the crop by pulling up the lower right corner a bit, I think that between us we'd have just about done it. But I like to give my birds a bit of space to fly into, even when, as here, I've got plenty of pixels to spare. Still, I hope it passes A's test.

It was another drearily dark afternoon up on the scarp, and bitterly cold. 5°, according to the Met Office, but feeling like 1° due to a brisk easterly wind. However, my car said 3° tops - and it was actually there, as opposed to the Met Office which was sitting in its nice warm office - so probably feeling more like -1°. Nothing flew for the first half hour or so after I arrived, and by the time the first Short-eared Owl went up my feet and hands were already suffering, and my camera work reflected the fact. Then there was a flurry of activity involving at least five owls, which got the blood pumping again, and my aim began to improve. Still, by the time I walked along the road to greet Hillyblips and have a chat - capturing both of these images en route - I was shaking from head to foot, and had to apologise for the fact that my speech was slurring because my mouth wasn't working properly any longer. "I'm not surprised," she said. "Your face is purple. Perhaps you should pull your scarf up?"

Not too long after this I decided that I'd had enough fun for one day, and stumbled off back to my car, with its heated seat and a waiting flask of hot coffee. I was thawing out with my coffee and one of the Boy Wonder's favourite Nakd cocoa orange bars ("But why is it called a naked bar," he enquired reasonably, "when it hasn't got any nakeds in it?") when a little Robin started hopping around the hawthorn tree next to where I'd parked, and eyeing me through the car window. I thought about sharing the bar, but there are limits to my generosity, and luckily I remembered just then that I had a bag of ground mix in the back of the car. By the time I'd braved the hostile elephants and spread a couple of handfuls on the verge I was shaking again, but I'm happy to say that a forty minute drive with the car seat turned up to 11 pretty much sorted me out.