NORTH DOWNS & BEYOND

I was having a dream that I was sitting in front of a giant aquarium, watching tropical fish swimming just inches away from my face. Without warning the glass exploded, engulfing me in freezing cold water and shards of glass. And at this violent moment I woke up, to be thoroughly confused as to what was happening as I was, in reality, being assaulted by cold water and broken glass - it was actually happening! Where on earth was I?... Jolted awake it took a few seconds to take in what was occurring. I was sitting in the front seat of Steve Broyd's car and his windscreen had been shattered by a Pheasant that had decided to fly straight at it as we travelled along the road at 50mph. My feeling of being immersed in cold water was, in fact, the cold winter air that was now howling into the opening car front. The glass was real. The Pheasant (a male) lay dead in the back of the car wedged between Bob and Scotty Hibbett. When the bird first entered the car Steve had looked around to see m...

The past few days has seen me out in the field a lot, but with little reward. After putting in the hours it can be disheartening when the ornithological return is minimal. It could be pointed out that my venues of choice are hardly inspirational - Epsom and Walton Downs, Banstead Heath and Canons Farm - but there again my expectation levels are hardly set to high. There have been moments of some compensation, with a displaying pair of Lapwings and a light trickle of Meadow Pipits overhead, but it is hardly the stuff of legend. This sort of disappointment isn't just the lot of the inland birder either, as my chums at Dungeness go through exactly the same feelings, although their measure of success and failure is on a far more loftier scale. There was so little to look at on one particular afternoon that I spent a few moments snapping away at this cock Pheasant - I liked the contrast between its gaudy plumage and the dour stubble - this sort of thing happens when you are scratching a...