I hoped for Crossbill but if they were there I didn't find them, the first birds seen were a party of six Long Tailed Tits accompanied by Great, Blue and just one Marsh Tit efforts to take photographs were thwarted by the non-stop movement of this apparently merry band of roaming avian gymnasts. Further on I noticed that mouse-like but always exciting climber of trees the Tree Creeper and try as I might, this little gem proved elusive to snap with my camera, always disappearing on the other side of the tree trunk just as I had lined up and focused for a decent shot.
A Green Woodpecker took flight from a clearing and was soon lost among the trees as it made off using its rising and falling, kind of dippy flight.
Peering through a break in the ride-side hedging a substantial relatively clear area mainly treeless but with trimmings from previously felled trees lay before me and I counted six pheasants and a small Muntjac that seemed not to notice me even though the wind was taking my scent to it and indeed the Jay that flew into a tree and seemed impervious to my presence remained as I felt the privilege of being allowed into the lives of these wild creatures as they ignored me for some minutes.
I sometimes prefer birding on my own as it gives the opportunity to experience that almost weird feeling of isolation that drags my senses back to a time when man was closer to being one with the world of nature, and the swaying trees protecting me from just about all the outside tempest could muster, gave me a feeling of comfort while at the same time leaving me
a little uneasy that I was so alone, the cry of a Buzzard dragged me out of my near dream-world and signaled to me it was time I made my way home.
The Oxon Feather.
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