The Epping Green Deer Crew

Paperwork again this morning, to the postbox again after lunch. The Epping Green deer crew were in a field where I have never seen them before, a stile and a public footpath sign at its edge. I strode towards them and got a few shots. Then I noticed another buck coming towards me. I decided to beat a hasty retreat as it is still the rutting season.

From there to Fishers Green, by now it was raining. I had a chat in the Bittern Hide with a guy who remembered me from this time last year when we were togging the glossy ibis at Rye Meads.

I decided to call in at another hide on the way back in case the geese were around. By now it was nearly dark. As I walked into the hide I noticed a shadowy figure in the corner. I'm not a scaredy person and struck up a conversation in the gloom. I couldn't see the man properly, he told me that his name is Ian in a beautiful soft Scottish accent. I asked him if he was a hobo. He was affronted, saying that it is an American term. I explained that for our family it comes from The Littlest Hobo, a series about a lovely travelling German Shepherd Dog. It transpires that Ian is homeless and was going to spend the night in the hide on his wet blanket, hoping to find food in the skip. We talked for ages. He is so articulate and knowledgeable. He wasn't drunk or out of his head.

I've had so much grief this past year dealing with the family home and related matters that I slightly, almost, envied him his lifestyle. I wanted to help him but I have responsibilities to others. I dare not put myself in jeopardy. :(