Bog Myrtle & Peat

No one has seen the blackcock for a while, so we were all starting to worry. He now lives so near the house that the shepherd tells me she can hear him calling at last light from her kitchen, but the fact that she has not been able to hear anything at all recently was starting to give rise to concerns. I went up yesterday afternoon to have a look about with the rifle, and before I had even got through the farm gate, I spotted a huge black blob hunched miserably against the rain on the top of a drystone wall by the road.

It was him, and I drove to within seventy yards to take photographs. After a while, he stuck his head up in dramatic fury and flew down towards the shepherd’s garden. I would have felt bad about disturbing him if he hadn’t flown right towards the only house within a mile. He may not particularly like human company, but he certainly doesn’t hate it.