An improvisatory, essentially indefensible, randomly configured tragi-comedy
(no great revelations are likely to be accrued from its consumption)
06 February 2015
Arrived at the hide 20 minutes after it had 'done one' (largely due to the fact I got horribly lost in the uncharted wilds of Forest Farm). Waited two hours,... and then a bit,... and then out it popped into the unforgiving midday sun.
When not sheltering in the hazel hurdles-cum-hedge, the wee fella fed directly in front of the olive-clad throng. Nice find Messers Powell and Gilmore.
NB. I should just take this opportunity to bring the readers attention to the borderline subliminal near prediction of this species in last week's post. Just one county out. Bugger.