Learning

The short-eared owls have defeated me - so far. Word of their presence has got around. Papercourt Meadow was peppered with knots of birdwatchers by late afternoon. I opted to wait on the other side of the river. Few go there, few know where to go. Signs saying "no entry", "private road" and "access prohibited" seem to put off most people. The biggest worry, though, was the broken toughened glass where I park up, a sign that a car had been broken in to.  That's a problem as the place is secluded. Best not to leave anything in the car then, so I humped my big bag and tripod with no intention of using either.

The camera is a weight on its own. Add the bag and binoculars and monopod and it's all getting a bit much. My plan was to find a clump of shrub and sit tight. But that's a bit boring, for Pippa too. The birds didn't appear until after 5 pm and it was already gloomy. Pippa is a white blob in the fields.

Leaving her at home or in the car is non-negotiable, says Pippa, but I can't see how I can do this otherwise. I've spent the equivalent of a working day (well, not one of  mine) this week, tracking these birds to get a few far off shots. But it's exciting. If it was easy, I wouldn't want to do it. Watching them is so rewarding. A good picture would be a bonus.

We went to see The Revenant this week - what a powerful film, has to get the Oscar for best picture. The one above won't. It's one of the fish ponds attached to Woking Palace. "Woking what?" said one of the bird watchers yesterday. "Palace," I said. "Henry VIII's mother lived there." Today there's nothing left but a broken wall and barrel vault, oh and the fish ponds. Once though, this place was a bustling royal abode. At least the Jeep was intact when I got back.

I can imagine Henry VIII throwing stones in here, maybe a wedding ring. Who knows?